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#who covered this man in stickers
hesterias · 5 months
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HOLD THE FUCKING PHONE
catching the Fontaines D.C. concert in Brooklyn, NY
(cr: puppetsspace on IG)
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crazylittlejester · 11 days
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buy the cringey ass stickers of your hyperfixation if that’s what you want to do and slap that shit on your laptop or water bottle with pride, life is too short to be ‘normal’ and force yourself to be boring just to fit in
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st4rbwrry · 4 months
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𝒜𝑀 𝐼 𝐵𝒜𝐵𝒴?
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✧。˚ a shy nympho camgirl seeks a partner to help her film content on a dating app. soon, meeting up with a handsome man who's willing to do anything for the pretty girl he chats with.
𝒲𝒜𝑅𝒩𝐼𝒩𝒢𝒮 𓇼 14k. pwp, lowercase intended, age gap ꒰ toji is 36, reader is 24 ꒱ submissive reader, pleasure!dom toji, bondage ꒰ belt ꒱, check ins, heavy praise, overstimulation, aftercare, unprotected, videography, oral ꒰ f + m ꒱ , squirting + kreaming, spanking, choking, hair pulling, mild degradation, intimacy on high, toji is intimidating, manhandling, masturbation, daddy kink srry not srry, pet names ꒰ baby, girl, pretty, sweetheart, angel ꒱ minors aren't welcomed! reblogs & comments are appreciated!
౨ৎ — ꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 ꒱: this took me so long to finish y'all but im super proud of it. one of my favorite works so far so i hope y’all enjoy. ♡
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you hold your notebook in your hands, a bright pink color with numerous doodles sketched onto its cover, your pen on the back of your ear as you slowly cross off a list of things you needed to buy while browsing on your laptop. your room is quiet aside from the soft sound of music playing from your stereo, beyoncé’s cowboy carter album playing from start to finish while you slumped into your soft pink duvet hiding beneath a white canopy slip. the air is crisp how you like, a fresh, chunky strawberry is chewed between teeth, and your skin is freshly scrubbed and moisturized, only covered in a matcha green two piece short and tank set. a laptop sits on your thighs as you cross your legs, twirling your left calf as you bury your back into your mountain of plushies.
this was frustrating. you never realized how hard this would be to find someone to fuck, let alone film content with. you’d made a profile on hinge a week prior to now, and most of the matches weren’t close to peaking your interest. most of the men seemed like creeps, some too old . . . giving very much grim reaper. and others, too young, freshly adults at that. you think you’ve made yourself appealing enough. cute profile with full faced pictures, personality traits, daily interests even . . . but it somehow didn’t attract those you truly wanted.
as your sticker covered macbook’s motherboard screamed for air, warm on your thighs and now sliding on your tummy the further you leaned back. . . you were growing tired. huffing and puffing from literal exhaustion. am i wasting my time? should i just go out and find people like in the movies? but this generation made it so hard to even physically connect anymore. what happened to people running into each other at a coffee shop, a book store, a park? sharing interests and going on dates. granted, what you were looking for was strictly work related. you wouldn’t dare stare a stranger in the eye you bumped into at the farmers market and ask, “hey, wanna fuck me for content?” it’d be tasteless. you have self respect. others may think differently considering your side quests to fund the unfathomable reality of adulthood on top of just being a girl.
“this fucking sucks,” you groan to yourself, thumb aching from how quickly you hit the big ‘x’ on the bottom left corner of your phone screen.
maybe it was time to call it a night. you had an early shift at the salon, about five clients to be exact, booking either re-twists, goddess braids, or a wig install. so you had to save your hand strength. sighing, you shut off your laptop and set it aside on your nightstand, disconnecting the music from your phone before getting up to cut off the light. your fluffy cat that laid on the edge of your bed shooting her head up in alarm, ready to follow at any adventure you pursued.
“relax, mommy’s not going anywhere,” you smile assuredly, knee dipping into the bed as you lean over to smooch her on her tiny head, pointy ears tickling your cheek as you watch her tail sway. “good night, sweet — oh, fuck! i forgot to feed you. i’m so sorry baby.”
the alert in your tone has the black cat stand in attention, cursing to yourself as you slip on your heart printed slippers and make your way towards the kitchen, your studio apartment being on one level making this task easier. you listen to her tiny paws thud on the floor after she jumps off the bed in a hurry, dashing in front of you, damn near tripping you.
“oh my god, you’re so extra,” you shake your head, but couldn’t help but laugh. she meows at you violently, as if you hadn’t fed her in two weeks. rolling your eyes, you reach for her bowl off the floor to clean before opening a fresh can of fancy feast, using one of her plastic spoons to arrange her dinner.
whilst she awaits, you can’t help but glare at the screen of your phone as it suddenly dings, forgetting to turn off your ringer. hovering over it to activate your face i.d, it immediately opens the hinge app, reloading the page to see a new match. the air you inhaled suddenly catches in your throat as you stare wide eyed at your screen, the man in your view is just what you’ve been waiting for.
“oh, holy fuck,” comprehension wasn’t on your radar seeming as you lost the ability of the cat food in your hand, dropping it to the floor and flinching from the mess your fur baby began chowing on. sucking your teeth, you mutter, “goddamit. no, no. stop it.”
flailing your hand gently to get her to stop, you snatch the can and dump the remainder in the deep oval ceramic bowl. you try to ignore the rapid pounding of your heartbeat, unsure why it went so astray. maybe it’s because you’ve never seen a man so fucking fine. deadly fine, foul almost. as if it was such a disrespect to all beings. she’d cleaned up her own mess, so you take the time to grab your phone and lean against the sink to observe this man further. he had matched with you, of course, otherwise you wouldn’t have been so depressed a few minutes ago . . . unless you were waiting for him to like you back.
toji. it’s his name. simple, nice. he only has about three pictures, one of them a huge black cane corso with a gorgeous silky coat. it made sense given the vibe he was giving. dark, intimidating, sexy. jet black hair, slender smoke gray eyes, sharp jaw and a fascinating scar on the side of his mouth. another thing you noticed was how big he was. most of the clothing he wears sticks to his skin like glue. molding the outline of his muscles, the thickness in his arms, the heaviness in his thighs, the brick trail of his abdomen.
a certain feeling burns in your chest, and between your legs as you scroll to see the last image. he’s sitting on a beach chair, thighs spread in black cargo pants, matching tee, a yuengling beer in his hand and a cross dangling around his neck as he takes a sip of his beverage with a hungry look into the camera. it’s cocky, possessive, dominant. the dark brows above his eyes lowered with attentiveness. his shirt is half risen above his abdomen, and you can easily see the dark trail of hair leading into his crotch. it’s full there, clear as day. so it’s easy to tell he carries something serious.
fuck. “fuck,” you feel yourself growing hot, blowing out a breath of air before making your way back to your comfy bed to stare at him more. what a fucking man. honestly, you’d never seen someone so of your standard. exactly your type. before messaging him, you check his profile a bit deeper to make sure you’re not mistaken of anything. find some flaws, though profiles only express so much.
thirty-six, that makes you moan. that’s a twelve year age difference. though that only makes him hotter. not too old, nor young. he’s a . . . gynecologist.
“so he’s good with pussy,” you giggle to yourself. he makes a decent amount of money. he’s into fitness, clearly. cars, politics, sports. seemed like a pretty laid back man to you.
without even realizing, he had already messaged you, your heart dropping to your toes at his first response.
toji
i’ve seen you before.
you blink, fingers typing quickly.
you
mhm, where?
he takes a moment to reply, so you fiddle with your necklace out of anxiousness, laying on your stomach and swaying your feet.
toji
sounds a little embarrassing, but an adult website.
you
sounds about right. does that bother you?
toji
i wouldn’t have matched with you if it had.
you
so you’re saying if i wasn’t a porn streamer you wouldn’t even look my way?
those three dots prolong longer than you wanted, only making you aware he didn’t know what to say.
toji
i matched with you because i find you attractive. whether you want me in that way or not is up to you. i want you.
he’s straightforward. you can’t help but bite the tip of your acrylic, smiling like a stupid teenager, kicking your feet in the air. the attraction being mutual boosting your ego.
“i want you, daddy,” you joke to yourself.
you
i’m assuming you’ve read my bio. i’m looking for someone to film content with! if you’re down for it, we can meet in person and talk about it! i’m not really looking for a relationship. . . right now at least. ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)
toji
of course, sweetheart. i’m free saturday’s and sunday’s. you don’t seem that far from me. let’s grab italian. my treat.
there’s something blunt and grown about him, you can practically feel his intimidation radiating through your fingertips. he seems just like the kind of man you knew would fuck you stupid. scream his name until the walls bled. until you’re trembling, and the sheets are off the bed, and his sweat is on your back so arched to the point where it’s painfully delicious. biting your lip, you had nothing else to lose. you needed his help, he’s offering lunch, you only live once.
you
you had me at italian. saturday at 2?
toji
saturday at 2. see you then, darling.
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the nostalgic scent of blue magic hair grease fills the air of the salon, your fingers working tirelessly to intricate detail into the woman’s scalp you worked on. your last client of the day in fact. you couldn’t wait to clock out and grab a bowl from chipotle, thinking about it your entire shift. fingers entwining artfully as braiding hair flicks from angle to angle, you finish up the final knotless braid with a hard working sigh. you tried to remain optimistic after she’d taken her seat, unfortunately arriving an hour late to her appointment. said she had ‘issues’ with her boyfriend, smelling like weed and partially slurring her words when she came in. but you could care less when you were on a time crunch.
you hated when people wouldn’t respect the clearly listed rules on your account. so, for that, she’d be paying a late fee. after you applied moose and rosemary oil to her scalp, she’d pay you through apple pay and be on her way. you thank her, and when she’s out the door, you instantly turn to your friend and roll your eyes.
“you’re too damn nice for doing her hair. i would’ve told her ass to kick rocks after showing up that damn late,” amethyst speaks, crosslegged and shaking her head as she digs her fork into her chinease platter, filled to the brim with shrimp fried rice and popcorn chicken. the smell alone makes your tummy growl. “did she even tip you?”
“not at all,” you brush off, not even wanting to think about it anymore. “still got my money at the end of the day.“
“hey, you’ve been off the whole day, everything alright?” amethyst proceeds to question, and your shoulders slump as you halt from sweeping up hair off the floor.
aside from tireless appointments, you couldn’t get toji out of your mind, super impatient, even anxious for saturday to come. it’s two days away until you finally meet him. you’ve texted here and there, shared a few updates on life or spoke of relating passions and wanting desires. you had told him your occupation outside of being a camgirl, and how dissatisfied with it you’ve become. this field wasn’t for you anymore. the passion for it is dying, the clients grow irritable, and you just wanted to breathe. you feel like you’ve been working your whole life. in conclusion, since fifteen. started from an early age dealing with responsibilities due to financial constraints within your family. your mother raised you on her own, along with four other children. and being cursed with the older daughter syndrome, you developed faster than you wanted to. barely having time to live your life until you moved out. even then, it’s been all about work. you needed an island getaway.
“this week just burnt me out. i’m just glad it’s almost over,” you reply, not having the energy for a full conversation. she was a sweet girl, albeit very nosey. you try to keep events in your life private, gossip to a minimum.
“awe, bookie,” she pouts. “what’s your plan for tomorrow? me and the girls were gonna check out that new club ‘sin.’”
shaking your head, you disagree. “now you know i’m not big on clubs. have an art piece to work on anyways before the weekend comes. so i’ll be busy.”
amethyst nods. “well, alright then. i guess i’ll just see you whenever you get booked again.”
you don’t know why that felt like a backhanded response. you’re only here three times out of the week, and most of those days you see about five to six clients. everyone else had a bigger following on social media, meaning more attention, more money. you believe because you aren’t so passionate for this major, your ability to promote and put effort only shows in your adult entertainment career. since it’s where most of your income comes from as of four months ago.
“guess i’ll see you.”
after packing your ballerina pink telfar bag with all of your tools, you wave goodbye to everyone before making your way to your white honda civic, interior a vast splash of pink matching the two-piece skims set you wore. shorts since the weather is about seventy-five degrees today. buckling yourself in, your only agenda is to head to chipotle and then home. ordering your delectable signature bowl of barbacoa, fajita veggies, guacamole, pico de gallo, corn, sour cream, cheese, lettuce, and refusing to eat the bowl without their vinaigrette and a side of chips.
it’s around 9pm when you’re finally cleaned off from a hot shower, curly hair pushed back from your face with a hello kitty headband as you finish your skincare, sitting at your vanity while scandal plays in the background. you’d already eaten your food about an hour ago, even taking a thirty minute nap to regenerate for this art piece you needed to finish. in total, you had about three jobs; hair stylist, camgirl, ceramicist. you had an etsy profile where people bought cute little things of yours you liked to sculpt. tea pots, coquette flower pots, plates, heart cake jewelry boxes . . you name it. you had a few orders for mini miffy trinkets you had to ship out by saturday.
saturday. the warmth in your gut swarms at the thought of seeing that man. quite frankly, you’ve been unable to relieve your mind of him. he’s like a poison, hard to get rid of, but desperate to stay bonded with you. and you wanted nothing more than to be buried in his embrace; small and fucked out. since he’s been busy with work, and so have you, there hasn’t been much time to even call and chat. then again, you wanted to wait to see him in person. to feel that magnetism stronger than it already was. two days away and you’re anxious to even hear a hello.
while patting your toner into your face, you gaze through your mirror to see a scene playing from your show where fitz and olivia fight before they fuck for the hundredth time. the way he grabs her, speaks to her, caresses her and worships her. it has you thinking of toji instantly. the burn for him aching more than normal. practically feeling his eyes on you the way he stared into the camera in that one photo, long fingers clasped around the glass bottle, craving for that lock around your throat. wondering how tight he’d make it. would you be able to breathe? would he kiss air into your mouth to help you? tell you it’s okay, to feel it all, to take it all, to cum on his dick till you're milking him dry?
your thighs squeeze together from your imagination, staring at your reflection . . . and it’s all in your eyes. deep arousal, and the harsh clench you currently held your moisturizer in, close to grinding in your seat to ease the buzz of your clit. there’s only one solution for this, and you might as well make money off it. standing to your feet, you think not a second more before retrieving your laptop from your closet, setting it on your vanity desk and logging into the domain of prettyfuckbunnies.com. it seemed to be the main site for growth, given your eight thousand dedicated subscribers. you check yourself in the mirror once more before going live, rolling your chair back a few inches so they could see your entire frame. dressed in nothing but a small red slip dress.
angelbwrry is live!
your subscribers were notified well before others, hundreds of them swarming the chat within seconds. you were a new favorite, a prized star of the platform. admiration from both women and men. people who tipped you just for being pretty. others here for the obvious. applying gloss to your lips, you stare intensely into the camera, the character you play going into affect.
“hi,” you mutter quietly, slowly titling your head to the side as you bite your lip and sink lower into your seat, back arching. “i’m so fucking horny, and i just need someone to watch me fuck myself.”
the black kuromi chair you sat in begins to sway as you gently swing yourself side to side, eyes trained on the chat to witness them praise you, some comments degrading off the rip that you chose to ignore, others demanding you get on with it. for the most part, you tend to be discreet with sharing much about yourself. technically, you weren’t hiding much, your face easily accessible and probably even less hard to track. you’d always pray that there wasn’t a psycho willing to go that far just to find you. role playing was your forte. writing ideas for new personas to please them. and you had fun doing it. you’d never do something you weren’t in to for the satisfaction of others. never took private calls, or meets ups for obvious reasons.
but, you had to talk about him.
“i met this guy i can’t get outta my head,” the softness in your tone making dicks go erect and clits beat, the chat asking questions and growing fond of your way of interaction. “well, maybe not met. we’ve texted, and i meet him in a few days. possibly someone you’ll see on the channel. and . . .”
the tenseness in toji’s neck bothers him as he groans and leans back into his office’s chair, fork in one hand as he chews on his salad from sweetgreen a coworker grabbed for him, reading through emails his secretary confirmed appointments of, needing to add it into his schedule to be aware of what he can fit between. needing to run a few errands this weekend. the white doctors coat clings to his body, one foot raised to rest on the front of his desk, manspreading and jaw shifting as he finishes his food tiredly, knowing he wouldn’t eat a thing once he got home.
“goodnight doctor fushiguro! get some rest tonight, yeah?” a body comes to view of his secretary; a woman with glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose, a chunky face and beautiful red hair. she waves enthusiastically.
toji smiles, the older woman trying her best not to swoon. he’s young enough to be her son. “good night, miss thorn. thank you for today. you get home safe and enjoy your trip. i wanna hear all about it when you’re back.”
“you know you’re the first person i’m running to tell!” she chirps, toji chuckling. “i left my keys on the main desk. don’t forget or else you’ll have to break open the drawer for your patients files.”
“i’ll be sure to remember.”
twenty minutes pass and toji’s cutting off lights to his small facility and locking up. twirling the keys on his long finger, starting up the sleek black maserati ghibli gt sitting in the parking lot from his key. a black patent leather messenger bag hanging from his shoulder, doctors coat discarded and now attired in his usual black tee with matching slacks. setting it beside him in the passengers seat, he gets a ding! from his cellphone, resting his shoulders in his seat before checking what it was, perhaps it was miss thorn, she tends to leave things behind.
angelbwrry is going live!
toji raises a brow from the notification, checking the sapphire bulova watch on his wrist for the time. 9:54pm. why were you up so late? forgetting people have other schedules, he’s so used to being asleep around this time, much more having to be done today the only reason he was still in the office way past the hour it closed. part of him grows inquisitive, wondering if he should invade your privacy or what not. though, he’s not new to your escapades. he’s seen every inch of your body, memorizing it quite literally. he’s not ashamed to say you’ve gotten him off a few times these past months. he feels like he knows you on a deeper level now, so itching for that perverted behavior would be indecent to both of you. especially if he’s seeing you in two days . . . for a conversation about what you do and his potential participation.
nothing wrong with just watching, right?
as the engine to his car hums, toji finds himself in a devious act, clicking onto your feed and finding you displayed in your feminine bedroom. the videos on mute momentarily before he’s going full screen and turning his phone sideways. there you were, small and standing tall as the slip that barely clung to your body arose the more you moved. hips wide, thighs full, nipples taut and tits defying gravity. the strap on your right shoulder falls elegantly, your hair hoisted up by a claw clip and your brown skin radiating glow. the man openly groans from the sight, knowing you smelt so good.
“wait, i have an idea!” the cute tone of your voice blares through his phone, a smirk painting his stern features as he watches you scramble for something in your room, your slip riding up your ass. the hourglass shape of your body, to the pudge of your tummy . . he’s enamored.
he, and a thousand other people watch curiously as you lift the seven foot mirror that previously leaned against your closet door and position it on the floor at the edge of your bed. then, you’re digging into your bottom drawer for something else, toji catching a brief glance at the chat raving and thirsting from the view of your perky ass peaking out, a tiny birth mark under the left one. the cellulite in your legs that squish together from size, the stretch marks leading from beneath your ass cheeks down to the backs of your knees. so fucking soft.
“ta-da!” you wave the object in your hand courageously, an evil grin on your face as you show the crowd your confetti designed dildo, the brow on toji’s face raising. he almost wants to chuckle. you’re so silly, he thinks. watching you dance your way back towards the mirror where you hum a tune to yourself, swaying your ass in the air for dramatics before plunging your toy onto the center of the mirror so it sticks, watching it spring for attention.
“gonna pretend this is him, ‘till then. can’t wait any longer,” your hands slowly drift up your thighs to show your audience your bare pussy, hiding between those luscious thighs of yours. he wanted to suffocate his face there badly. what you say almost goes over his head. pretend who’s what?
toji ignores the flow of comments filling the chat, degrading you to some degree which he briefly clenches his jaw from, feeling somewhat protective. others praising you, acting like your cash pigs. pathetic, he thinks. he sees one comment in particular that makes the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
prinxxxspeach
aren’t you seeing him saturday? call him now to come help you girl!!
don’t fucking call me, angel. i’ll nut in my pants right now if i hear you say my name. he’s slightly amused that you spoke of him. is that why you went live so late? thinking about him? so pent up, and impatient, you had to just fuck it out your system? he’d fuck you a lot better than that lousy toy you had, that’s for sure.
you giggle from the comment, contacts still in your sockets so you can read what people are saying from afar.
“he can wait for me. he’s making me wait,” it’s like an old film camera flipping to the next scene, or maybe his mind had gone blank from your response because now, now you’re sinking your tiny pussy onto your toy after coating it with lube, the reflection of your cunt for all to see in the mirror. watching as this toy splits you apart, pretty folds swallowing it deep as you balance yourself on the tips of your toes. fully sitting and rolling your hips to adjust, your mouth falls wide and a whimper escapes.
“nng, s’so deep,” that voice of yours is going to get you in trouble. the broken moans you release as you lift your hips to grind and bounce, face falling forward to look at yourself, seeing someone other than yourself. your imagination begins to run wild, and you forget a cameras watching you, dainty fingers caressing the mirror before laying your palm flat, as if you’re choking him. biting your lip, you occupy your other hand by molding at your chest.
you uphold your balance well, clapping your ass down against the mirror now coated with your slick, pussy squelching ridiculously loud aside from your weak moans and desperate whimpers.
“fuuck,” your breath hikes, sounds broken and almost pleading, eyes rolling back as you collapse to your knees and lazily rock back on your idea of a dick. by this point, toji’s eyes are malicious, and his dick is hard in his slacks. shifting in his seat uncomfortably from what you’ve done.
“lemme see your face,” toji whispers in the air, the heat rushing to his cheeks. the things you do to him truly fascinating.
“g’na cuum, mmph daddy!” a high pitched squeal you let out stuns him, your hips shifting back and forth hurriedly. the flesh of your ass moving like water, and he’s in a trance. daddy? what the fuck are you doing to him? he wonders if you knew he was going to purposely join your live. already talking about him gave it away.
“c’mon, angel. show me,” the blood swells in his cock rapidly, tip damn near dripping with precum, unable to help but palm his heavy hand with it, humming and widening his legs.
“too-jii,” it’s faint the words you falter, a pathetic whimper followed by drool covered lips and a cute squeak. your body trembles from the depth of your orgasm, riding out your high and giggling cutely to yourself. to others, the words were inaudible. but to him, he knew exactly what the fuck you said.
the way you smile at yourself in the mirror, as if you’re looking at his fucked out face, you slowly upturn your head to bring it back to the livestream, a drunken, and dangerous grin on your face. never in his years of life had a woman made him gulp. to fear for what you’d do to him. how bad you’d break him, make him go fucking crazy. yearn for your pussy on his mouth.
you were fucking ethereal.
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of-fucking-course you’d be running late. you were supposed to meet toji at two and it’s two thirty. the location of c’est moi exactly twenty five minutes away from where you lived. you were close to the downtown area, not fond of parking down there but you’d drive faster than an uber can. you made sure to make toji aware of your lateness so he’s not getting the idea that you stood him up. never. not after the other day. you don’t know what happened, but your mind took over your body and you couldn’t help yourself. you only pray he didn’t see it, not expecting him to. it’s embarrassing now that you think back on it.
you manage to make it out of the house twenty minutes after, throwing on a simple white pleated cami dress with a ruffled hem, ruched bust, and pairing of olive green sandals that had tea rose shaded orchids clipped onto the forefront. a teri cherry printed coach bag tight on your shoulder after you sped sixty miles per hour towards the restaurant, finding parking and hurriedly making your way inside.
“hi, reservations for fushiguro. i’m extremely late,” as you approach the host, you make out the sight of the man you were here to see outside instantly. sitting alone sipping a cup of coffee. his side profile all you can see, that deep scar carved into the side of his mouth, his veiny hands big as he clutches the mug . . and your throat clogs up.
he’s fucking . . . big. fuck being nervous before, this made you want to run and hide and never show your face. he’s practically hunching over the table, making it appear smaller than it actually is. his hair is midnight black, his broad shoulders and muscles suffocating the sleek gucci button up he wore, a few undone, eyes studying his cellphone, awaiting your call. one thing about being a doctor, he’s learned to be patient. understanding your alarm forgot to go off, or rather you slept through it . . seemingly growing to become impatient. he needed to see your face now.
“right this way.”
your feet follow blindly behind the hostess, trying your best not to trip over your own feet, heart beating drastically against your ribcage. your palms are sweaty, feeling the warm breeze of spring air hit your skin as the hostess leads you outside to the table where toji resides. he sees you before you see him, the sun beaming on your skin not nearly as hot as your cheeks suddenly became when finally making eye contact. your right hand picks at the ends of your dress anxiously, toji taking a stand to welcome you like a gentleman. it’s like slow fucking motion the closer you approach him, and when you’re inches apart, you can see the stillness on his face. he doesn’t smile, his face is almost unreadable. not sure if he’s upset with you for being late, or he’s just not one for emotions.
“hi,” the hairs on your skin stand from the deep baritone of his voice, visibly swallowing as you stare up at him, height difference making you dizzy.
“hi,” you blink like an innocent doe. he’s hovering over you and the waiter whom sets the menu down on the table, his chest almost touching you as he comes around to pull your chair out for you to sit, finally getting so close to the point where he could breathe in your sweet perfume, the peony and white musk scent has him forcing down a groan. he’s staring intently at your backside, dark hair going to the middle of your back in wild curls, a bit frizzy due to the humidity outside.
“can i get you anything to drink, miss?” the waiter addresses you, politely waiting for toji to move out the way.
why is your entire body on fire? no man has ever had this affect on you. his aura exudes something sinister, overtly masculine even. “u-um, yes please. can i just have a frozen sangria?”
“of course, i’ll be back with that while you decide on your meal.”
“thanks,” you smile sweetly, trying your very best to avoid complete eye contact. once the two of you are alone, you build up the courage to look at him again. he’s seated once more, leaning back into his chair with a left arm resting over the back of the chair with his legs comfortably spread. he liked to do that a lot. his eyes are low, head adjusted somewhat to the left as he observes you.
“good to finally see you,” he’s the first to speak, again. that fucking voice of his; raspy and dominant. how are you supposed to carry out a conversation without folding?
“y-yeah,” you clear your throat, sitting up straight after shyly clamping your hands between your legs and trying to hide like a porcupine. “i want to apologize again for running late. out of all days my phone decides to not ring my alarm. i rushed here as soon as possible. i hope you weren’t waiting too long.”
his lips began to rise into a soft smile, and that eases your nerves. no one would notice you’d rush to get ready. so naturally pretty with your face glowing from rose water and petroleum jelly, hair brushed out, lashes only curled with mascara, lips lined with black liner and smothered with gloss while your prescription glasses sit on the bridge of your nose. too cute.
“sweetheart, no need for the sorry’s. i understand.”
he’s not mad, thank fuck. “kay,” you smile back, tucking pieces of flown hair behind your ear. “did you order yet?”
“was waiting on you,” he replied. “though i kind of lost my appetite. i’m craving something . . . else. so, order anything you’d like.”
that was surely a double meaning. now, you’re not so sure if you had an appetite anymore. you couldn’t bare to eat in front of this man right now. when the waiter came back with your drink, you downed half of it, toji chuckling from your anxiousness. you needed the liquid courage before uttering another word towards the man who watched you with motive, intention. the intimidation brewing from his body is corrupting you. you order a simple caesar salad, nothing too fancy.
“oh! i printed out the document we have to go over.”
toji’s eyes trail to your hands that reach for your purse, acrylic nails painted a peony pink pulling out your notebook stuffed with an arrangement of papers as well as a pen. “guess we can call it like an nda, affidavit . . whatever. i’m sure you’re aware of the obvious on why. um, we can discuss boundaries within the bedroom . . . things we will or will not condone. a safe word is a must. if you don’t feel comfortable showing your face i’d blur it out, but given i do livestreams most of the time that’ll be impossible. so i’d suggest a mask, which i’m actually in to so if that’s something you’re willing to do . . “
toji nods as you continue to ramble, carefully analyzing everything you say, though, his mind begins to drift elsewhere. he still couldn’t get that damn livestream out of his mind. killing himself these past two days just thinking about how fucked out he needed you to be, buried deep and crying underneath him. the cute expressions on your face when you moaned his name so publicly, as if you dared him to see. how desperately you fucked yourself on that pathetic toy of yours from the very thought of him. your whines, the illicit way you stared at your reflection in the mirror beneath your sculpture of a body you rolled seductively. he shifts in his seat, attempting to conceal the stirring of hunger within him as you continue to talk. he doesn’t need a fucking contract. he’d fuck you good and wouldn’t tell a soul.
his expression is firm yet tinged with a hint of something different this time . . anticipation. “why do you film content?”
the unwavering intensity in his gaze causes you to cut your sentence short, mouth forming an ‘o’ as you ponder on his question. was he even listening? “wha—what do you mean?”
toji chuckles. “i mean, why do you film? is it your main source of income? do you enjoy submitting to hundreds of people? does it make you feel confident, make you feel good? why?”
that should’ve been something you prepared yourself to answer. most of the guys you filmed content with didn’t have personal answers to ask, nor did they care. they were simply there to have a good time and go about their lives. you came into this situation thinking that’s what toji wanted as well. now you’re getting a gut feeling it’s more than that. or maybe you’re just an over-thinker. the whole point of making an account on hinge was to find better people to connect with for work, but most of them never got the job done, and you were tired of faking an orgasm and boosting a man’s ego. something about this one though, you can feel that he’s willing to worship you.
“well, i actually have three jobs. hairstylist during the day, which i’m growing to lose passion for. i’m good with pottery so i make little things and sell them. and then as for filming content . . . it’s fast money. the economy is shit right now. minimum wage jobs aren’t cutting it. rent prices are horrifying. i want to fund a new life for myself. to travel more, and just be a girl.”
toji smiles, admiring you.
“bali has been on my mind as a place to reside. it’s always been a dream of mine to be somewhere tropical. less breathing in polluted air and eating foods they pump full of hormones. mexico and puerto rico are also on the list. i really need to dip my feet in some sand or something. i don’t know. it’s also kind of sexually liberating to be in my own bubble and enjoy myself in that way. i do it for no one but myself.”
toji sits up in his seat, taking a piece of ciabatta and smearing softened butter onto the breadpicked up a slice of bread and smeared some butter onto it. “i think that moving to a place like that is a good idea. there’s a lot of bullshit in the world that’s hard to run away from. if you feel like it’s what’s best for your mental and emotional being, then go for it. you seem like you’ve worked real hard your entire life. you deserve a break.”
the heat in your cheeks rise as he leans himself closer, guiding the bread to your lips, waiting for you to take a bite. you smile softly, sitting up a bit in your chair before taking a bite. toji watches intensely as you moan from the taste.
“isn’t it much better when it’s given by someone else?”
“yeah, it’s good. real good,” you swallow, licking your lips to rid the breadcrumbs, reaching for your glass of wine to take another sip. “i have most of my savings in tact, so my plan is to be out of here by next year.”
the unadulterated pull between the two of you threatens to consume him as he stares at you, his body almost painfully yearning for your touch, your taste, your everything. toji can no longer resist. he reaches out and gently cups your chin, his fingers gently yet firmly tilting your face up to meet his smoldering gaze when you dared to look away. “how ‘bout you take me with you.“
the entire scene switches, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, filled with a raw mixture of lust and vulnerability makes you fall shamelessly into his trance. you feel your heart patter against your chest, scanning his entire face with small indications of panic, and excitement. you’ve been dying for his touch all week. you pray he’s as good as he looks.
“what’s the catch?” you breathe inordinately.
toji smirks. “we get fake married or something and change our identities.”
you shake your head at his joke. “i need to see a ring first, mister.”
“mhm, you look like a marquise kinda girl,” he tongues his cheek, in deep thought. “go to bali. i pay, you enjoy life.”
pairs of lips are mere inches away, toji ghosting his softly amongst your own, yours parting to follow. you feel like you’re in space, the feeling extraterrestrial. surrounded by depths of nothingness with only the two of you existing.
“i. . no, i can’t let you do that,” you shake your head dismissively.
“you deserve it.”
“you don’t know me.”
“good. that’ll be the perfect occasion for us to spend more time together,” he concludes, softly pecking your lips to coax you into giving him what he needed. you’re stunned, unsure what to say, or to think. so, he doesn’t make you think.
“fuckin’ kiss me,” his voice drops to a husky whisper, filled with a raw mixture of desire and vulnerability, eyes flickering from the plumpness of your lips to your eyes. “can’t wait any fucking longer.”
the heat of his breath mingles with yours as his lips brush against your own in a hungry, fiery kiss. his mouth devours yours with an intensity that borders on primal, each movement filled with a desperate need to taste and consume everything you have to offer. his tongue slips past your parted lips, eagerly exploring the depths of your mouth as if seeking to memorize every inch of you.
you were drawn in fully now and you didn’t think you’d be able to pull away even if you wanted.
within the moment of your passionate kiss, as toji’s rough hand trailed to grasp your throat, your waiter begins to approach with your salad, eyes widening as he noticed how deeply, and somewhat aggressively your make out session was. practically swallowing each others faces. deciding to mind his business and turn the other way. he’d come back in a few minutes. toji breaks the kiss abruptly, his eyes gleaming with a hint of reluctance.
“damn this table,” he mutters, his gaze shifting towards the barrier separating the two of you. his breathing is ragged, body practically trembling with pent-up need. even so, he manages to pull himself together enough to maintain some semblance of composure.
he’s left you breathless, feeling something in your chest you’d never felt before, this attraction for him otherworldly. your lips are pouted, hands bawled into little fists levitating in front of your chest, as if you were begging for him to come back. when he begins to rise to his feet, you wonder where he’s going, eyes coming into immediate contact at the bulge growing tight in his jeans. you swallow, shifting your gaze up to the tall man that hovers over you possessively.
“go home, send me the address. i gotta handle a few business calls then i’ll be there at eleven.”
you hadn’t noticed the way your teeth sunk into your lower lip as you give him those damn puppy eyes, as if you’re so fascinated by him, almost scared of him to leave right now. toji grabs the pen resting between your little pink book, signing his signature on the indicated line on the bottom of the page for your gratification. after, he’s fishing for the brown leather wallet in his pocket to place down a hundred dollar bill on the table to cover the tab and the waiters tip. then, he leans down, lips gently brushing against your forehead in a tender kiss that sends a shiver down your spine. he lingers just a moment longer, as if reluctant to let go.
“see you later, angel.”
finally, and with that, he steps back, his eyes lingering on your form for a moment before he turns and walks away, the sound of his heavy footsteps echoes in your ears, leaving you alone with your thoughts and a lingering sense of anticipation for the evening to come. starstruck entirely.
𓇼
a rush of arousal burned within you like wildfire as you lay in your empty bed, yearning for the man who's been gone for only a few hours now. caressing your collarbone while chewing on your lip, your phone rests in your palm, excitement brewing for twenty minutes now ever since he texted you to let you know he was on the way. a black baby doll is adorned on your soft skin. ruffle lace details at the neckline and hem with a satin waistband tie at the back into a cute bow. matching mesh g-string panty, and floral patterns along the bust and hip area.
you took the time to curl your hair, reminding yourself to actually put your contacts in this time. also keeping makeup to a minimum with just mascara, a bit of blush, and some strawberry chapstick. skin moisturized in baby oil and spritzed with miss dior. . . waiting. the camera’s set up across from your bed, trying to distract yourself by engaging in conversation with your viewers. the comments were raging about how impatient they were to see something, but how did they think you felt? you could barely walk out of that restaurant without feeling your legs shake.
he intimidated you beyond measure, and god knows what he’s going to do to you when he gets here. it’s a fear and form of greed you’d never felt before.
“my fucking hands are shaking,” you giggle anxiously, smiling to yourself and shaking your hands before dramatically breathing out.
as you waited, you did little things to keep your buyers entertained, showing your ass every now and then as you cleaned your room like a cute maid. call it foreplay. sitting on your knees now become uncomfortable, so you aim for lowering to your tummy and stretching your arms ahead of you, ass raised up. as soon as you get comfortable, your head pops up from the sound of heavy footsteps surrounding the small area of your home. it’s him. you’d hope, leaving the door unlocked so it’d be easier for him to enter.
“oh, fuck—y’all,” the anxiety is even worse now, mentally preparing yourself with steady breaths and shoving your face into the bed to scream happily. the emotions are bipolar. “he’s coming up.”
toji steps closer to your slightly cracked open door, pushing it open wide to see you. his demeanor nothing short of serious when he gets a good look at you, hearing you yap at your camcorder with his hands stuffed into his jean pockets. he rests his right shoulder against the frame of the door, staring at you, admiring. his boots hit along the floor the closer he gets to you, and that cute ass you had perched up. the lights in your room are dimly lit, citrus candles spread around and led lights from your vanity illuminating the area. the vibe is nice, he likes it. like he likes you.
you continue to speak to your livestream and pretend he wasn’t there, trying to ignore your heartbeat picking up. the tension is in the air. you tried to steady your breathing as you continue to ramble about nonsense; animal crossing, sims you wanted to recreate and purposely wicked whim them. anything to distract yourself from the sparks shivering through your body. you prod the inside of your cheek trying to bite back a grin when you finally feel his hands on your hips, eyes watching the chat go wild from the brooding man behind you. what makes it all the more hot is that he hasn’t spoken a word, feeling like an intruder. stalking, waiting.
“so yeah, i’m thinking about dying my hair red. i feel like my face is kinda full to have a silk press so i’ll look . . off? maybe p-pin ‘urls,” a wave of pleasure shocks through you when you feel him press the outline of his dick against your cunt, dragging you back to air-fuck you once or twice. a few times. for the tease of it. his fingertips lightly flowing along the curves and contours of your body, your hips being the most sensitive. gasping and twitching from the feel, the thong you wore barely shielding how wet you were.
your breath became heavier, and you found it harder to continue speaking. you felt like moans would slip out of if you continued to react to his touch, the heat between you two rising. you were drawn fully into him. the reaction from him gave you a confidence boost, a slick smile showing on your face. while his body speaks of his own growing need, he remains a silent observer, his intense gaze watching as you maintain, or try, your playful conversation with the camera.
“i gotta admit something,” you smile into your hair that falls angelically around the frame of your face. his form, silhouetted behind you, takes on an ominous yet seductive presence. even though he remains hidden from view, his yearn is palpable, eyes locked on you as if he could consume you with a single glance.
“i fucked myself thinking of him,” a jolt of electricity runs down toji’s spine as he recollects the image. a low, involuntary groan escapes his throat as his grip on you tightens. “those of you who don’t remember. it was really, really good.”
that’s the final trigger. in seconds, a rough palm strikes the flesh of your ass, causing the cutest squeak to emit from you. toji’s wrapping his other fist around the softness of your hair and pulling you back to his hard chest. his cologne is strong, enrapturing even. your hand reaches beside you to catch his wrist in your grip, feeling the coldness of his expensive watch while he’s busy locking your jaw still and pressing his lips beneath your ear.
“really?” the tone is condescending, and as you nod frantically, pushing your ass back to feel him more, all you can hear is the unraveling of his belt. slowly removing it, the sound of the leather rubbing against the buckle and his pants. the anticipation fills you at an alarming pace. “i knew that, angel.”
how? wait, did he fucking watch the live you made that night? your legs nearly go weak at the possibility, sheer embarrassment consuming you. he wasn’t meant to see that. yeah, you told him about it. but him seeing that, then having lunch with you like nothing happened is crazy work. he noticed you’re frozen, chuckling darkly behind you.
“relax, doll. i can pretend i didn’t, ‘n you can show me all over again.”
he grabs your wrists, pining them behind your back with a rush of power fueling him, crossed hands sitting on your ass.
“this okay, baby?” he scans the side of your face for approval, using the smooth leather to bond them together. you hum, lips bitten and nodding obediently.
the look on your face in the camera is so worth the thousands of views from people who were just as desperate as he was to see you submit. your hands wriggle to touch him, laying your head on his shoulder and biting your lip as his teeth graze from your shoulder, to your collarbone, and your neck. your body’s completely on fire, and he makes it worse when he gently shoves you forward to fall on your face, back arched and ass high for his view, and theirs.
toji stared down at you as you remained there, fully surrendering yourself for the taking. his larger body leans over yours, fingers grabbing your chin to force your mouth to open. toji brushes his lips along yours, your desperate mouth sinking into him, feeling that same spark you felt earlier during lunch in your chest. he deepened the kiss to give you what you wanted, easily reading you, his tongue ravaging your mouth with his waist grinding into the shape of your ass. the kiss is so wet it has you mewling like a cat in heat, losing your breath.
“give me a safe word, hm?” toji sucks on his lower lip, the arousal in his eyes ruining you. a heavy hand rubs circles on your ass before hitting it again, another cute sound leaving that pretty mouth you had.
brushing your cheek along your bed set, dark curls dancing around your face and a pout on your lips, you whimper, “strawberry.”
“mhm,” your stomach flips when you felt his hand drift between your inner thigh, toji’s tongue skidding over your lips the same time his fingers apply pressure to your clit, rubbing in circles after he pulls your panties to the side, your babydoll resting pretty on top of the rolls on your back. your fists are balled tightly in your restraints, widening your mouth to suck on his tongue before giving him a deep kiss. the image on your face is pure dizziness. acting like your fucked dumb while barely being fucked. he couldn’t wait to see you crumble.
you squirm under his touch, breath growing short and shaky, toji maintaining eye contact with you dangerously. he’s big on it, and it makes you shy, yet brave enough to endure it.
“you hear yourself, girl?” toji hisses, pecking your lips hard, his fingers coated with your slick the more he rubbed. you whine, arching your ass even closer to his hand. “you’re so needy for me, it’s cute.”
it’s ridiculous that you can’t even speak, him turning you into nothing but a whiny, whimpering sub. “you’re desperate for my touch, for my tongue.” he whispered, his voice growing even rougher as his own need grew.
“mmm, yes. need it so bad,” you pout, mouth gaping after he spanks your clit lightly. “fuck, please eat it, baby.”
“i will good girl.”
he didn’t hesitate for another second, sliding behind you with one knee pressed into the bed and his big hands holding you still, spreading your cheeks further apart and cussing under his breath from how fucking cute your pussy was. fat, and glistening in your juices, clit hiding between your folds giving him something to search for. “g’na fuckin’ kill me, angel. pretty fuckin’ pussy you got.”
you scoot up as much as you can, hands still bound behind your back, wanting to cry from the inability to move, but loving that he had you at his mercy. his hair covers his eyes and he’s submerged into you, pressing his mouth to your pussy in a sweet kiss, like he’s knocking politely, before running his thick, long tongue over you slowly. a groan resounded devilishly, toji lapping at your dripping clit, tongue hot and your toes can do nothing but curl.
he’s slow and deliberate, enjoying the sounds and reactions he was getting out of you as you writhed and quivered under his ministrations. your pussy and his mouth makes up the loudest voice in the room, so fucking sweet and wet he’s salivating over you. spanking you, taking his time to devour you as he swallows your cunt whole, tongue gliding from your clit all the way to your hole. occasionally dipping his tongue into you to fuck you like that. your eyes cross, a broken cry making him lose it.
“keep bouncing that ass back, baby. fuck, fuck my face, angel,” he’s hitting you again, and you can’t take it, shifting your thighs to roll your ass back onto his gorgeous face. you’re panting like an animal, jaw dropping as he keeps his mouth on your clit, sucking it hard and groaning into your cunt, the vibrations traveling up your spine.
“oh . . god, oooh god,” the gasp in your throat became high pitched, toji licking you faster when he sees you giving your utmost effort. continuing his onslaught on your sensitive clit, swollen and satiating his taste buds. his fingers dug into your thighs, lowering himself completely to sit on his knees before you, rocking you back on his face as he eats it, unrelenting. sucking, licking, slurping, drowning his tongue inside of you . . . damn, it’s fucking good.
“c-cumming,” he can barely hear you as you stuff your face into the bed, toji’s head bouncing as you settle your feet on his shoulders and rock back on his face even quicker, groaning. “don’t stop, don’t s-stop, babyyy.”
“mhm hmm,” he’s moaning into your pussy, kissing and tonguing you down until you finally burst, your hands in their constraint balling into fists, getting the chance to latch onto his black hair once he pushes you flat on your stomach to bury his face completely between your ass and thighs. “let it out, baby.”
his chin glistened from your juices, toji groaning the rougher you tugged at his scalp, dick jumping in his jeans he needed to unravel soon. when you cum, you do this thing where you squeal and gasp at once, and he swears it’s the cutest thing he’s ever fucking heard. lifting his face, he licks his lips proudly, wiping his chin and patting your ass to watch it shake in his palm. you were a lovely display beneath him, and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of ownership over you.
he reached down and traced a finger along the length of your trembling leg, his dominant presence still overwhelming. he brings his hand to the back of your neck which you arched into his touch, his eyes darkening at your silent plea. “you want more?”
“nn, yea,” a breathless giggle falls from you, toji dragging you to sit at your knees by the grip on your neck and around your chest with his forearm, back hitting his chest again, and your eyes come into contact with the camera, almost forgetting it was there.
“show them what i did to your pussy, angel. let them see how perfect you are,” toji whispers, tapping at your knees to help you sit on your behind.
“okay,” the words are small again, because that’s how he makes you feel. once you sit, you raise your knees to your chest, toji lifting your babydoll to show your soft tummy and the pink lights from your vanity mirror glowing on the angles and curves of your body. you look like the finest art.
it’s liberating seeing yourself like this, a sense of relief washing over you when he begins to unloose the belt, humming elatedly and arching into him, your periwinkle painted toes twinkling in the air playfully. toji laughs at you, your hand coming to your cunt to cover it out of fake shyness, rolling to lay on your side and giggling to yourself. you really did know how to play a role, or maybe you’re just naturally silly.
toji unfastened his button before drifting his zipper down, thick thighs spread and arms bulky as he kept them in fists into the bed, tilting his head in your direction as he sat beside you, body taking up half the bed. you sit on your knees next to him, your hands running across his stomach and lifting up his shirt, toji licking his lips when your nails delicately scratch at his hips. you moan when his hand comes into contact with your hair, your nails digging into the broadness of his thigh.
as he guided your head down, you could feel the heat coming off of his body. you could smell the unique scent of masculinity wafting off of him. the feeling of his fingers running through your hair sent tingles down your spine, his touch tender and affectionate despite his dominating demeanor. your chest fluttered when his thumb touched your lower lip, your breath stuttering and your body quivering, a heat rising in your core all over. you felt the need for him grow stronger, pulling your lip downward. he shifted his fingers and tilted your chin up further, exposing your throat and neck to him. then he leans over, his free hand coming up to cup the back of your head as his mouth latches onto your neck. pressing light kisses along the sensitive skin, his tongue grazing out and your skin pricks with fire.
“can’t stop tasting you,” he grunts, his lips and tongue on your throat licking hard, driving you insane with need. his hand holding the back of your neck in a possessive manner, keeping you in place as his mouth explored your sensitive skin.
“toji. .” your voice is weak, feeling your inner thighs drown in a puddle of your arousal. “wanna suck it.”
“i’m sorry, what was that?” he hums.
“don’t tease,” you roll your eyes and pout.
“mhm,” he lets out a little grunt as his eyes rake over you, his breath catching slightly as he stares at you. he runs his hand down to your waist, gripping fervently. “so pretty,” he murmurs.
“thank you,” you whisper, feeling a strong rush of affection for him. “you’re so handsome,” you say, your voice low and tender.
“g’na give it a good kiss, baby? real good?” he hisses, your hand pulling at his jeans to sit lower on his sharp hips, letting his dick free and watching it with a watered mouth as it sat against his tummy. heavy, thick, two veins protruding on either side. you fucking knew he was big. bless your intuition.
“yes, want it,” you plead.
a low growl escaped his throat. “show me you want it then,” he purrs, his eyes growing darker with desire and his grip on your hip tightening.
the salivation in your mouth gave you just what you needed to do the job, widening your mouth to accommodate his size, drooling over his dick as you pull him in as deep as you could to start. half of him enclosed by the warmth of your mouth and instantly toji moans from the feel, your cheek sucking in while you guide your head up and down, keeping your hands to yourself, one on his thigh for balance. your eyes are closed to focus, humming and dragging your mouth slow to make him feel it all. toji catches himself knocking his head back, pulling the sheets between his fingertips and scrunching his brows together, stomach caving in.
he can hear you slurp and suck at him needily, moaning around him and riding the air with your ass, spit gliding down to the base of his dick as your tongue sticks out to drag along the under of his shaft, bobbing your head and licking at him. something about giving him head in specific felt intoxicating. maybe it’s the sounds he makes; guttural yet whiny. the desperation begs to tug at his throat, shifting his hips blindly and cussing under his breath. eventually, his fingers find their way back to your scalp, toji sitting up and entangling both hands into your hair, face curated in pleasure with eyes wired shut and a gaped jaw.
“shit, ꒰♡꒱. that’s fuckin’ good, doll,” toji grunts, your moans around him encompassing him to briefly detangle a hand to spank against your ass in clear indulgence. “damn.”
your hand couldn’t help but travel to touch him, wrapping your hand around the base of his dick to stroke your hand according to the pace your mouth drags. that gravitational wave in his abdomen hit, a deep ‘your suckin’ it so good’ fleeing from his mouth followed by another harsh spank and a steady tug at your scalp to push you down only enough to follow your rhythm. when he hits the back of your throat, you force yourself to hold him there for a few seconds, purposely constricting your throat to hear him moan for you again, and again. his sounds addicting.
toji chuckles from how good you’re doing, raising your head to breathe before swallowing only the tip while stroking the remainder, your salvia being enough lubricant to quickly move your wrist. twisting and tugging while keeping it mostly on the head of his cock, the sensitive spot your toy to play with as you give teasing kitty licks, two hands covering him now.
picking your head up momentarily, you stare into his eyes with your siren ones, low and dangerous. pulling at his dick while you bite your lips before kissing him, mewling when he shoves his tongue into your mouth, pulling your body closer by your ass, the other grabbing the side of your face he practically swallowed into his own. the kiss is feverish, something straight out of a movie. he’s highly infatuated with you, tasting himself off of you with the mixture of yourself. toji sucks on your lower lip, and you find yourself positioning your thigh over his to sit and grind on his leg. you had enough of the foreplay, you needed him to fuck you.
“fuck me,” a whimper escapes, pressing your body down harder onto him, hand still stroking at him, that fucking voice of yours driving him mad. he doesn’t think he’ll last if you keep it up. “toji. . . toji.”
“stop begging,” he shuts it down quickly, the sound of his boots hitting the floor as he kicks them off exciting you. of course you couldn’t hide the smile, feening innocence as you pet at his jeans to help him remove them.
he's only in his black shirt now, your eyes following how his muscles swallowed the material, showcasing every sharp cut of his upper body. he made you dizzy, truly. that slit on the side of his mouth curving with his mouth as he smirks at you for getting lost in your cute little dream land.
“focus, love,” toji reels you back in, his hand on your lower back to arch your chest into his, dragging you to straddle him. if he could see the blush on your face he’d see that you were red as a tomato, his dick sitting right beneath you and you can’t help but shudder. “need you to lift your hips, help daddy out.”
“kay,” you nod like a damn bobble head, laying your hands on his shoulders and balancing yourself on your tippy toes, wrapping your arms around his neck for extra security. toji’s large arm his thrown around your waist to keep you locked to him, both of your body heat scorching.
he catches a hold of his dick, pumping it twice before he’s rubbing the fat tip against your drenched opening, collecting your flow before a soft gasp emits past your lips when you feel him gently enter, sinking you down carefully, little by little. the sensation from the stretch is . . like a fantasy. your foreheads are touching, breaths mingling as he removes his hand to balance the two of you on the bed, leaning back somewhat for your comfortability.
when you think he’s fully apart of you, that thought is knocked down the minute he utters, “c‘mon, girl. you gotta lot more to take.”
“oh my god,” the shock is out of, well, shock. he feels really good already, it’s gonna be hell if you handle any more. embedding your nails into his clothing, chin resting between the crook of his neck while you ground your ass back to make it easier for him to slip completely in. the two of you groan in sync, toji’s arm tightening around your waist from how tight you felt.
the more you rock, slow, steady, it fucks the both of you up. holding tightly onto one another while toji lets you take your time, the heavy breathing and hearts beating rapidly is fucking poetic. one might call this act making love. once you drop your ass entirely, that pressure in your sweet spot causes you to scream out softly, losing balance and sitting on your knees, holding onto him with an unexpected whine.
“shit, baby, you alright?” he’s immediately checking in on you, bringing you up and make eye contact, hands holding either side of your face and scanning for signs. pushing away the fact that you’re convulsing around his dick and trying his best not to fuck you hard. yet, at least.
again, you can’t even speak. your mouth is wide open, nodding and breathing heavily, shifting your hips and grind onto him, flexing your ass when you arch your back deeper before lifting halfway and slamming yourself down. toji chokes, face copying yours as he grips onto the sheets and places his arm back around you, helping you lift yourself.
“you feel . . really good, baby. stuffing me full,” you moan, toji grunting and yanking you up and down faster, losing his patience now. it blew out the fucking window the minute he slipped inside you. he fixates on the sound of your pussy sliding and swallowing his dick, the slick making his tongue water for the taste all over. you’re so fucking sweet it’s insane.
“yeah?” he lets out a low, guttural groan and grips your hips even harder, his breaths coming out in deep gasps. “fuck me like you fucked that toy, thinking of me.”
that makes you smile, that insecurity of him seeing that video earlier disappearing as you take both of your small hands and wrap them around his throat, using your weight to push his body so he falls onto his back, his hands cupping the curves under your ass cheeks. toji usually isn’t one for submission, but he’s been thinking for a while about trying new shit, and a pretty girl like you choking and fucking him was only the start. you see the look in his eyes, and you feel heat sweltering inside of you even more, relishing the fact that you are the one in control, applying more pressure to his neck, loving the way his breath hitches.
“you want me to fuck you just like that?” you lick your lips and grind teasingly, the dangerous swirl of your hips making his head sink further into the bed.
“want you to fuck me like that, angel. gimme a show.”
and you won’t deny his wish. positioning yourself back on the tips of your toes, his hands are smoothing underneath your thighs, clutching on either sides as you with his eyes going dark, his hips bucking. he can barely string a thought together, his mind completely consumed by the sensations you’re sending through him. your pussy takes it all while you pounce your body above him, rolling your waist each time you dip your ass down and meet his thighs.
“fuck, you feel so good,” he grunts, his voice thick with pleasure, eyes never leaving yours before his voice rasps out, “keep going. fuck me for real. like you want it. it’s yours.”
you let out a strangled gasp, body jerking and mind almost slipping away, the pleasure he’s giving you overwhelming and consuming you completely. his hands on your body clench harder, the warmth from his body on yours killing you.
“just like that,” his hands move at their own possession now, slamming down on your ass repeatedly to bruise your skin, the hits vibrating straight to your clit and it’s making you drunk. your eyes scroll back into your skull, his appraisal driving you to work for it faster.
“t-toji, i’m so wet for you,” you gasp in shock from the slickness between you two. “look what you did to me. you slide in and out so easily.”
“f-fuck, doll. you’re killing me talkin’ like that,” he lets out a strangled gasp at your words, voice ragged and eyes filled with need. “you like it that much, baby?”
“y-yes!” a squeal sounds from you, bouncing heavier than before, your voice getting caught in your throat from the impact. you clutch any part of his skin you can grab, losing yourself in the way he fills you. “i love your dick, baby. makes me feel prettier.”
hazy eyes filled with pleasure admire your features, fucked out already when he still has so much he wanted to do to you. give you what you deserve. a smirk tugs at his lips, sitting up and leaning in close, missing the skin contact. his voice low and rough as he says, “you look prettier when you’re sitting on my dick.”
“yeah,” you drunkenly nod. “s’mine.”
toji raises a brow with amusement. “it can be yours. when you cum on it real hard.”
wanting him even closer to you, you keep only one hand around his neck, placing the other on his forearm and pressing your chest to his entirely as you gyrate your hips and tease his neck, hovering over his skin with your mouth and teeth before you leave little love-bites on his skin. toji guides your hips in a circular motion, the simple switch up making you gasp and whine into his ear, hitting that spot repeatedly.
“god, baby,” you feel his guidance, his grip on your hips firm as he moves you. you ride against him, the friction on your clit making you whimper weakly, his deep voice in your ear making your body shake, feeling another orgasm develop. “i love it. s’fucking me so good.”
“see you movin’ just like you did for me on that mirror,” he wraps his hand around your neck, squeezing firmly. your eyes lock, yours clouded by arousal, his with an agenda. “fuckin’ yourself like that . . ima fuck you real bad for that,” toji hissed, swiping his tongue across his lower lip before aggressively smacking your ass. “i feel that fuckin’ pussy squeezing me tighter. if you’re g’na cum then do it on me. gush all on it.”
the more your body reacts to his praise, and sprinkles of degradation, the faster your orgasm approaches you, washing over you hard as your body spasmes from the intensity of it. your teeth sink into his shoulder as you scream, riding out your high, squeezing hard on his arms. toji kisses your temple, keeping you close as he falls back and lays on his side while turning you to face your camera you’d both forgotten about, still did.
“you did so well,” the kisses continue around your face while your brains on autopilot, his hand clasping around your neck as he presses his hot chest against your back. his kisses are so aggressive it makes you feel small and wanting to obey. you jump when he spanks you, moaning weakly into your shoulder with your arms halfway hanging off the bed.
toji goes lift your right leg to adjust himself behind you, dick achingly hard and covered in your juices, slipping back inside of you fully before angling your knee towards your tummy, keeping a hand locked under the bend of your knee, your skin smooth to the touch. you smell good too. everything about you besotted him. your hand touches his face, tugging it closer to the point where his nose smushed against your cheek, dark hair clouding your eyesight as his big frame overtakes yours.
“you’re gonna kill me,” you whisper, eyes focused on each other, a giggle creeping up.
“not you,” he whispered back, rolling his waist back and forth, grinding deeper into you. the plush of your ass molding against his sharp hips. his lips brush on your neck as he kisses and nibbles at your sensitive skin. your hands roam over your body, touching and exploring every inch of yourself as his lips trail down your collarbone, darkly watching as your hand presses on your clit. “her.”
as he possessively holds you in place, he’s prepared you enough before he’s fucking you hard, knocking the wind from your throat completely. a hard gasp falls past your lips as toji slams his hips against your ass, knitting his brows together, squeezing his eyes shut while his mouth falls open. the utter silence both of your voices held at the moment was more powerful than the rough interaction of your skin. your eyes a ghost white as he pounds his dick into you hard. when a noise is made, it’s from equal parts, syncing your eager moans.
“ooh, fuck baby. you’re taking it,” he huskily whispers into your ear, his words punctuated by the way he continues to move into you. “sucking me so deep. m’not going nowhere.”
“to-ji,” his name is broken down by the harsh pounds he fucks you with, whining and moaning in his entrapment. your vision gone. “i love the way you fuck me. you fuck me so good.”
he fucks like he’s not letting up, his body pushing you deeper into the mattress, the grip around your neck remains tight, the feeling of his ownership only growing more intense. his body is hovering over yours now, digging deep as he can to fuck you real good, to make himself feel it all. your body remains to the side, only half twisted as he drops your leg and pushes his weight into you so your stomach is close to grazing the bed.
“s’too much, fuck . . i, i—” the words are caught in your throat from the overstimulation. breathing heavy, tears begin to fill your sockets, whining his name loudly in his face like you’d lost your mind for good this time. this pleasure was something you hadn’t felt in a long time. it’s everything you needed and more.
toji shushes you, kissing your nose as he grips your face, big hand almost covering it whole. “you like when daddy takes control? you like when he tells you what to do?”
toji will admit, you’ve got him fucking spent. it’s been a long time since he’s had a woman submit and cry under him, and you do all those things well. the gorgeous image on your face, to the salacious movement of your body. the softness of your skin and the equal relation of your voice. capturing and captivating him. you’d think he was on drugs the way he was talking. high off his ass from your pussy. his lips gently brush over your ear. your eyes flutter, his voice attacking your clit, and you swear it makes it gush even more, soaking the sheets underneath your ass. “when he makes you his? you like being my good girl, pretty?”
he knows you can’t speak anymore, but you’re still interactive with your body language. the slur of your nonexistent words to the way you try to roll your ass back to fuck him back . . but he’s got you trapped. even the tears falling down your face from overwhelming pleasure. he knows you’re okay, asking for a safe word prior for your protection. you’re a big girl, he knows you can handle it.
“nnng,” you can’t stop trembling, gasping for air and sobbing in his face. toji places his forehead on yours, looking into your eyes and nodding, cooing. you are fucked dumbed. toji hisses, hitting your ass and pausing momentarily to look between where you two collide, an ‘oh my god’ faltering out. he’s as gone as you are.
“you so fuckin’ creamy, girl,” toji drags out a frustrated hum, getting annoyed by how good your pussy is. you’re going to become a problem.
“please,” you don’t even know what you’re saying it for. do you need him to stop, do you want more, or are you just completely fucked out you’re saying anything that’s coming to your head? that butterfly feeling is back in your stomach, as well as a foreign one near your clit, knowing exactly what’s going to happen. “toji, m’ g’na c-cummm. oh my god, babyy.”
your hiccups and sobs only urge him to fuck you even harder, loving how the breath literally jumps out of your throat in shock.
“cryin’ on this dick. fuck, you got me going crazy,” he really doesn’t want to cum yet, he needed to fuck you in every way imaginable. but he knows you need a break, to breathe for sure. he wanted to edge himself so that when he finally came, it’d be the best fucking orgasm of his life. your moans are clawing at his soul, so filthy and dulcet. you’re making it really fucking difficult to obtain that.
toji finds himself slamming his palm over your mouth to bury them in a way, but you’re so damn loud it’s getting to him. ‘fuck fuck fuck’ he’s cussing repeatedly in a whispered hush as he fucks you as hard he possibly can. his hand doesn’t even work, because you’re consuming him wholly and the minute he feels that build up, he pulls out to cum and you’ve drenched the sheets as you squirt. an almost blood curdling scream surrounds the room, your body rapidly trembling as your mouth falls open in utter shock, gasping, whining, whimpering, moaning his fucking name while he moaned yours. toji nutting up the entire side of your body, wrist twisting as he holds you body still, mouth drawn open.
his hand reaches over to unclamp your legs, heavy hand rubbing your pussy to stimulate you further, your back arching and head sinking into your pillow, crying out. he watches your hand flail to grip his wrist as your wetness continues to spurt out of you like water.
“strawberry!” toji listens to you weep, choking on your cries and pleads. finally having enough.
“holy s-shit,” you’re laughing while also trying to catch your breath, not believing that just happened. he can tell by the shock in your face that you’ve never had it happen before, or that much.
“damn,” he laughs along with you, smacking your outer thigh before smashing his lips to yours in a deep kiss, gliding your tongues together while his hands massaged every part of your body after allowing you to lay on your back. caressing and soothing you to calm you down. “gonna grab a rag.”
you pout when he goes to stand, already missing the disconnect as you lay empty on your . . messy bed. absolutely disgusting you two, hawk puth! one things for sure, you can’t keep that wide ass smile off your face. he comes back into the room, one of your pink towels wrapped around his midsection covering up that demon of a dick he carried. toji smirks down at you, grabbing your ankle and tugging you down to the edge of the bed before he’s taking a warm rag that smelt of your dove beauty bar to wipe what he painted on you. you swallow your lower lip into your mouth, watching with hooded eyes as he drags the rag sensually along ever part of your skin. you flinch when it comes to contact with your cunt, toji kissing your inner thigh with a ‘sorry’. he admires the curves of your body even more, kissing your ankle adorned with a silver anklet after he finishes.
“how you feeling?” he asks.
“i’m more than perfect.”
he hums. “you’re something else.”
“i was good?” you ask seriously, batting your lashes shyly.
toji stares at you as if you’re deadass. “don’t do that. you know you were. you didn’t hear me? i fuck you deaf?”
that makes you roll your eyes, but not before giggling. “hate you.”
“you won’t after i tell you i got chinese in the kitchen,” he winks, the light in your eyes making his heart swell. “c’mon, sexy.”
you sit up, gasping. “i knew i fucking smelt that shit when you came in. i thought it was outside!”
“nah, i realized i didn’t eat shit at the restaurant earlier so i decided to get us both something. did you even eat your salad?”
“i did, had to after you dropped a whole hundred,” you shake your head. “how’d you know i liked chinese?”
toji blinks. “baby, we literally talked half of this week. for hours. i have good memory.”
that slip of a nickname outside of sex warmed your chest, burying your face in your hair to hide your shyness. “you’re right.”
“don’t hide now, i’ve seen it all,” he chuckles, tickling the bottom of your foot.
“oh, whatever!” you chuck one of your plushies at him, half of them had fallen to the floor. toji gets up to grab your robe he saw hanging on the bathroom door, draping it around you as you stood.
he kisses your forehead and you walk ahead of him into the kitchen, screeching when he hit and gripped your ass, the two of you forgetting about the livestream altogether as you warmed up the food, poured a glass of wine and reminisced about what just happened.
angelbwrry live : 1M viewers.
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© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡ 
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gender-euphowrya · 1 year
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yea boi
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sunflowerliberty · 1 year
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etsy sellers who add in little fun things like stickers and candy and whatnot to packages really are keeping the world going i think
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lunaekalenda · 6 months
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biker!suguru who looks pretty intimidating with that big helmet that covers his face, but will take advantage of red lights to make the children in the cars around him laugh. moving his hands, changing his seat, lying on the motorcycle; anything works when he sees them smiling and waving at him when the traffic starts again.
biker!suguru who's full of tattoos under all the riding clothes. they're tiny, like fine stickers on his body, but you could spend whole afternoons finding each one of them, and he'll gladly tell you what do they mean.
biker!suguru who refuses to let you get off the bike by yourself. if he opens the car door for you and offers a hand so you can comfortably get off, why wouldn't he do the same on the bike?
biker!suguru who accompanies you to buy clothes and equipment for riding. he has been on it for years and he knows the best brands, the best options and the more secure ones. he'll make sure to pay for them, even if they're expensive, as long as you're comfortable and protected from any injury.
biker!suguru who takes you everywhere. you have a meeting? he takes the bike. you're craving your favorite ice cream at night? you'll go quicker in the bike. why would you go walking if he loves to take you anywhere?
biker!suguru who's not bothered by the rain at all. he would ride anyway, with drops falling on his visor and sticking to his exposed neck. he would even unzip his riding jacket and let the rain wet his t-shirt. it makes him feel alive. (and later, sick.)
biker!suguru who doesn't like you sitting by yourself so makes it impossible for you, moving the bike and going back and forth, laughing and receiving your little slaps on his shoulders until you let him sit you (or he lets you sit)
biker!suguru who holds your hand when driving straight, taking it between his gloved fingers, cutely caressing and taking it to his helmet as if he was kissing it.
biker!suguru who helps you to put and take off the helmet the first times you ride, being his smile the last thing you see when closing your eyes to put it on and being his lips pressed on yours the first thing you feel when taking it off.
biker!suguru who doesn't doubt to show you how to ride when you ask him. he takes you on a couple lessons outside, quietly and calmly ordering you what to do. he trusts you enough to backpack you (but you don't trust your freshly aquired habilities with such a man behind)
biker!suguru who never arrives from a ride late. he'll always find you awake, and he doesn't want to let you go to sleep alone. he'll always make it safely on time.
biker!suguru who loves to mess with you, while riding and once done. he'll take your visor up, he'll put your hands inside his t-shirt, he'll give little taps on top of your helmet.
biker!suguru who craves shoulder massages on sunday afternoons after all the week riding and working. you'll gladly give him some, and he'll make sure to payback with cuddles (or rides.)
biker!suguru who lets all the kids try his helmet while he waits for you to exit work/uni. you'll just find the most random situations while getting closer to your boyfriend, such as a kid having trouble with the helmet's weight or another one unable to see due to puting it wrong.
biker!suguru who looks so good unzipping his riding suit and taking off the helmet you can only think of seein that exact image every evening of your life
part one here ✨
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bluetimeombre · 1 month
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・❥ 'Are you Hugh down under?' p2
You and Hugh were the stars of the biggest movie, Wolverine and Ladypool, and fans love the two of you.
[Here's p2, thank you for loving the last one and being as obsessed as I am. I hope i got everyone on the tag list and the second part to Ladypool and Wolverine is on its way. Again this isn't proof read, this is just vibes. There's some sexual innuendos and sexist comments that Hugh is at the rescue for. Also, i'm British so half of these interviews just end up being British icons]
part one
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You and Hugh being in love for twenty-five minutes (part two)
2017, Y/N heart monitor
You were doing an interview for your latest movie with Nick Grimshaw on BBC radio one. It was a new thing he'd come up with, trying it with you for the first time as you were hooked up to a heart rate monitor.
'Is it working?' asked Nick. 'Is she alive?'
You help him put the stickers onto you. 'It's like, there's nothing there,' you joke with them.
'She's a robot.'
The beeping began and it found your heart beating at a steady pace, a good start.
'So, I'm going to show you a series of images and we're just gonna see how you react to these images, ok?' he asked.
You grin, nerves kicking in. 'Ok.' It could have been anything. And boy were you right.
Some of them were fine, easy, normal. A picture of a co-star the heart rate was fine, a pair of shoes that you wore a lot, a picture of cash and an ex that had it risen but not alarmingly.
'And finally,' Nick picked up an image. 'Hugh Jackman! How does he make you feel?'
Your cheeks go red and you laugh. 'I hate you all so much, um, Hugh Jackman?' you were too busy laughing. Once you had made a joke about Wolverine and how good looking he was, now it was following you everywhere.
'Heartbeats rising!' Nick cheered as you covered your face. 'Heartbeats the highest it's ever been, eighty-five, up to ninety! One hundred!' he claps.
You bang your head on the table, finally finding control over yourself. 'I can't believe you all.'
Nick slid the picture over to you. 'Here, you can take that one home with you.'
'Thanks. He looks great there, doesn't he?' you say. 'A classic, Hugh Jackman picture.'
'Yeah, you like it?' he teased.
You grinned. 'That's going on my wall when I get home.'
The Graham Norton show
You and Hugh had walked out, waving at the adorning crowd that cheered as you took the sofa.
‘Hello! Hello!’ Graham called.
The two of you looked the pair as you smiled and sat next to each other in spite of the space on the sofa.
‘Sofa to ourselves, i like that,’ you say, lying back.
‘The other guests were too intimidated,’ said Graham. ‘Now, was the walk out ok for you guys, Hugh, are you happy?’ He asked.
Hugh frowned. The crowd laughed. ‘It was very good, thank you.’
‘Because, is it true- and Y/N correct me if I’m wrong, you had a specific song you walked out onto set with?’ He asked.
Immediately knowing what he was talking about, you laugh while Hugh hangs his head and sighs.
You sat straight and took to explaining while patting his back. ‘You see, it’s very tough for Hugh to get into character as Wolverine sometimes. So the only way was to get him out the trailer was to play a specific song.’
‘Ok, ok so shall we do it again, this time with the song?’ Graham proposed. He ushered you both backstage, Hugh squeezing your shoulders as you went.
‘Whatta a man’ by salt and pepper started playing and you led the way out for Hugh who danced his way out. The crowd clapped along as Hugh shows his moves and ended with dipping.
‘Oh wonderful!’ Graham called as the two of you took your seats again.
For the rest of the interview thing went very smoothly.
‘Now is is true that the first time you met, Hugh, you didn’t actually meet Y/N?’
Hugh again huffed and shook his head. ‘This show is all to embarrass me, isn’t it?’
‘Makes a change honestly,’ you say.
Hugh looked back to you and started to tell the story. Through out, his body had moved toward you, his entire presence facing you despite talking out to everyone. ‘When I first walked on set, you know, at the ready, I was very excited to be there and even more excited to meet this wonderful lady here. And I got suited up, you know, went to hair and makeup and one of our first shots was quite a challenging one, a big stunt.’
‘Big,’ you agreed, taking a sip of your drink. You knew where the story was going.
‘Yea, so anyway, I walk over to Y/N whose already in her suit. Looks great by the way. Anyway so I start introducing myself and saying hello and how thankful I am for being here, a real heart to heart you know-‘ he says, ‘and then Y/N walked in and i realized I’d been speaking to her stunt double the whole time- whole time!’
The crowd laugh as do you, almost choking on your drink.
Wolverine and Ladypool press:
You and Hugh sat with each other all day doing press. You kept it light with jokes between the two of you, working through the people and questions.
One particular interviewer just had to get his answers though. ‘So your suit,’ he starts, looking to you. ‘It’s very tight and eventuated several parts of you, did you find that hard to manoeuvre around?’
Hugh answered before you had the chance to open your mouth. ‘I found it very easy to move around in. You know, first x-men movie, not so much but these suits, are perfect.’
The guy chuckled, it was clearly forced but you thanked Hugh for taking the question, patting his knee. ‘Can you wear like panties with them or thongs, cause they are skin tight.’
‘I’ll take this one!’ Said Hugh again. ‘I go commando, but that’s just because I like it.’
‘He does, he does like it,’ you nod, grinning. ‘He’s going commando right now actually.’
The guy tried one more time to ask you a question about the suit. At this rate, your entire body turned to face Hugh. ‘Do you feel sexy in the suit?’ He asked you.
‘Very,’ said Hugh.
After that, Hugh made several vulgar comments when you were alone, but luckily for you, Hugh was your own superhero.
Buzzfeed quiz
'Hello!' you greet the camera, holding your phone to your chest. 'I'm something-something Jackman.'
'And i'm the greatest actress of all time,' said Hugh.
You deflated, looking at him. 'Oh, well now I just look like a dick.'
'No, it's ok,' he shrugged. 'One of us has to look like a dick.'
The two of you were doing quizzes for Buzzfeed, answering if you're more Ladypool or Wolverine. Although you were sat next to each other, you'd both craned your bodies back so the other couldn't see what you were putting in, like it was a test.
'We're really competitive with each other,' Hugh told the crew.
'Yeah, not with anybody else, but I have to- I just have to prove i'm better than Hugh Jackman at something,' you said.
'Who are you hoping to get?' asked the lady behind the camera.
'Oh, Ladypool, obviously,' you said.
Hugh nodded along, watching you. (Did this man ever not look at you?) 'I wouldn't be angry about getting Ladypool either.'
You tut. 'So quick to betray yourself.'
If you could have a super power, what would you chose?
You read through the options. 'I think telekinesis,' you said. 'Mainly just because I'm lazy and it would be so easy to pick up the tv remote or close the curtains. Very practical.'
'Yeah, that's a good one,' Hugh hummed about it for longer. 'Maybe healing ability.'
You roll your eyes, throwing your head back. 'That's such a Wolverine answer!'
'I know, but I'm getting old, be nice for things to not hurt a lot,' he said.
Who's your favourite MCU character?
Hugh scanned the options. 'I er, don't see Wolverine on here?' he looked around at the crew behind the camera's shaking his head.
'Can't get the staff these days- oh my god Spider-Man's on here!' you cheered, distracted.
'She loves Spider-Man,' Hugh told the camera.
'I do. I really do,' you agreed. 'If it wasn't gonna be Wolvie, it was gonna be Spidey,' you look into the camera, holding your phone to your ear, mimicking for Andrew Garfield to call you.
Hugh dragged his finger of his neck in a cutting off motion if he ever did.
Who do you pick to be your road-trip buddy?
'You have to pick the Wolverine, c'mon,' Hugh nudged you.
You looked through the options which all considered x-men. You hesitated, humming. 'I dunno.'
'We had great fun in the car!'
A red blush took over your cheeks as you re-called the multiple, multiple takes you and Hugh had to do. Hugh saw this and draped his arm over the back of your chair.
'Yeah, but that was- that was different, this is a roadtrip not a porn video in a car,' you joked. 'And Wolverine's like so serious, Rogue, she's so fun.'
'Woah, woah,' Hugh paused everything. 'Rogue is great, don't get me wrong. But who's better!' he pointed at himself. 'Wolverine's not grumpy with you, he loves you!'
You look over at him, grinning sweetly. 'No, you love me and it's judging your character.' For five minutes, the two of you argued over who you'd rather have as a road-trip buddy. Most of it got sped up during the video. 'Ok, fine, I pick Wolverine. Who are you picking?'
'Charles,' said Hugh even though Ladypool was on the list.
You faced the camera, mouth hung open as Hugh laughed loudly and gave you a side hug, assuring you it was a joke but he still clicked on Charles!
Which musical number would you want to perform with your 'Wolverine and Ladypool' cast mate?
'Oh, some great choices!' boasted Hugh as he read through them all.
You smile at him, eyes softening. 'You've awakened the musical theatre beast.'
'Y/n, there's so many good choices! What do we pick?!' he grabbed your hand and squeezed as you watched him with joy.
There was a few choices: 'Love is an Open Door,' from Frozen, 'The other side,' which Hugh obviously did for The Greatest showman. But there was also 'The Love Melody' from Moulin Rouge and 'You're the one that I want,' from Grease and when you both saw that you gave each other a look and knew which one you were picking.
By the end when your results came up you cheered and punched the air, practically jumping out you seat. 'Ladypool! God, this felt like my audition for the character all over again,' you wipe pretend sweat from your brows. 'What did you get?'
Hugh showed you his phone. 'Ladypool! I got Ladypool!'
'We're so alike!' you entwined your fingers. Slowly and dramatically the two of you leant in, pretending you were going in for what would have been a very wet kiss before you both pulled back and explained your answers.
You and Hugh with Alison Hammond again!
The interview with the two of you and Alison Hammond was pretty much the two of you flirting and Alison fangirling. Fans couldn't stop editing it together.
'Ok so obviously there's been a lot of competition between the two of you, so we need to settle who's better once and for all,' said Alison. 'So i've got a series of challenges for the two of you to complete but there's a twist.'
'We're naked!' said Hugh causing you to laugh. 'No, sorry.'
Alison handed you both each a boxing glove. 'I want you to put one on each and sign your autographs, which ever is close wins the point.'
'You're on, Jackman,' you said, already sliding your hand into the boxing glove.
Hugh gave you a cocky smile. 'I am so gonna win this, you know why? Cause you've given me a right boxing glove, but i'm left-handed!' he quickly got to scribbling his autograph.
'Fuck!' you cursed, struggling with your own. (It was bleeped out on this morning).
When you handed them both back to Alison it was obvious who the winner was. 'Thanks for this guys, it'll do numbers on Ebay.'
The two of you practically topple on each other with how hard you laugh.
Next you had to try to open a bottle of water with your gloves on and pour it into glasses and try drinking from it, both of which you failed at. Then the two of you just started fighting each other so Alison called it off like she was your teacher in a rowdy class.
'So, as I am a morning presenter, I thought I'd see how good the two of you would be if you had your own Hugh and Y/N morning show- so here's some guards, scoot closer, scoot closer,' said Alison.
The two of you took the cards and moved your chairs together until your thighs were pressed together. You waited for your cue before the two of you began your audition for your own morning show.
Hugh threw his arm around your shoulder, drawing you in.
'No, Hugh,' you denied, 'we must be professional on tv!'
Alison cackled. 'Yeah, you wouldn't do that on tv.'
Hugh looked offended at the both of you. 'We're re-defining what it means!'
You push him off you and hit him with your cards.
Hugh assesses the camera. 'Where's the shot? Above our chests, perfect, so I can do this.' And he puts his hand on your thigh, sprawling it out as you bite your lip to stop the grin.
'I'm taking this audition seriously, Hugh!'
Finally, the two of you start, acting as if it was a real morning show while Alison gave you pointers.
'Did you have a good weekend?' Hugh asked you (in reality all your weekends had been spent in his company) 'What did you get up to?'
You shrug. 'Nothing much.'
'No,' he interrupted causing you and Alison to laugh. 'When I ask a generic how was your weekend, you have to tell me a great funny story that we've set up before. So, Y/N, what did you do on your weekend?'
'I went fishing,' you said the first thing that popped into your head.
'Did you fall in?' he asked.
'I fell in.'
'That's hilarious!' the way he said it and the way he looked into the camera, caring about it just made you laugh so bad. 'Don't go anywhere, we'll see you after the break!' you were still laughing when Hugh wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled into your neck, making kissing noises and hiding behind the cards.
Even more at the premier
You and Hugh stood next to each other, him keeping an arm around your waist as you both listened to the interviewer ask you questions.
'So, Y/N, we found this interview from 2017 and we thought Hugh might like to take a look at it,' they said, pulling out their phone and clicking on a video.
As soon as it started playing, you knew what it was. 'Oh god.' you hid yourself, turning to Hugh as he watched.
It was the famous heart-rate monitor interview, where, when you saw a picture of a shirtless Hugh Jackman, your heart-rate spiked higher than any other picture.
Hugh was smiling the whole time and beamed at you when the video finished. 'You have that effect on me,' he assured you, leaning his head on top of yours and smiling at the interviewer.
'Y/N, do you still feel that way when you look at him now?' they asked.
'More,' you said, speaking loudly over all the noise. 'I feel it ten times more.'
And fans, anyone, could see how much the two of you were in love. Whether it was just flirting or if it was real, it was there and everyone was happy for you.
As the two of you walked off, the camera followed you. Hugh's head was bowed low, seemingly taking low to you as his arm remained around your waist and yours came up to rub his back up and down. He laughed loudly at something you had said before dropping a kiss to the top of your head and continuing on the journey.
(there probably won't be part three but I'm working on another compilation with you and Hugh)
taglist (thank you all!): @geeksareunique, @angstdaddy, @tranquilty, @gotta-go-now, @pear-1206, @chronicallybubbly
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0jamajos · 7 months
Text
so yesterday I went to a tiny tiny protest for Palestine and I just wanna say, truly don't underestimate what you can do with even just 2, 6, 10 people, just cuz you cannot gather thousands of people in your protest or action doesn't mean you can't do things, I gave some flyers and stickers to people that were passing by, some people asked things, some people expressed how they're with us, a very old Jewish man who knew basically 0 Spanish talked to me and still wanted the flyer even if it was in Spanish and said mazel tov and stayed there the whole time we were there, many people were interested in knowing things and listened and wanted the flyers and recorded our tiny protest, every little bit is something, do what you can, specially if youve read things and learned things about Palestine lately that mainstream media isn't covering, share what you know
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confused-wanderer · 1 year
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The entire mansion has been baby proofed.
And it doesn’t matter how many times they’ve tried to take them off, or even ban them, somehow they just keep popping back up to everyone’s annoyance.
Jason blames it on Bruce, saying the old man’s going soft on them and basically babying them. It’s him hinting that he doesn’t think they’re capable enough to not bump into or break everything. He accuses Bruce of not trusting them. Dick doesn’t have an answer, but he’s just amused and doesn’t make a move to take them off, which leads the majority of the batfam to think it’s him.
The culprit? Damian.
Damian has seen his family exhausted from shifts. Not to mention the fact that somehow even though he knows they’re some of the smartest and most capable people on the planet he looks up to, they’re also simultaneously the dumbest people that make him suspect that perhaps they weren’t the same people who he’d seen dodging bullets while walking tightropes flawlessly.
And when you work the same hours they do, have the same risks they do, it’s inevitable for someone to simply collapse, because god forbid any single of them weren’t stubborn enough to realise when life -threatening injuries = bedrest and maybe, just maybe = a fucking break.
He’s watched Bruce stumble, head heavy with all the doses of medicines the man had to take before he tripped on air and fell halfway down the stairs. He’s seen Dick nod off in the living room, only for him to accidentally fall over and hit the sharp edge of the table. Stephanie was trying to take off her costume while running for classes, and so she slammed head first into the glass door.
For gods sake, Damian’s pissed Todd’s one to talk because the man was cooking in the kitchen while talking to Roy on the phone and while getting really into the story, he placed his hand on the still hot stove. And picked up the metal container he’d just heated to the point of boiling with his bare hands. The man didn’t realise it, still babbling on to Roy before he sets it down, glances at his hand and then stops when he sees them turning red. And only then, does he let out a quiet “oh…shit.”
Tim’s no better either, he gripped the wrong edge of a knife that he had just put down a second ago. And he wasn’t even doing anything else. Damian just watched in horror and disgust as Tim had just stared at his fingers holding the blade before going “… this is wrong isn’t it? Ow.”
Alfred had caught Damian lugging the questionably large amount of baby proofing material into the mansion the first time, but walked away before he noticed. And Cass helps re-baby proof everything when the batfam try to take them out because Alfred asks her to, and she loves doing it.
Is this him getting soft? Damian? A trained assassin who was taught emotions only served purpose when they fueled your ambitions?
No.
But he had another ambition for now. And so what if his heart flutters when he sees their house-related injuries drastically decrease? So what if there’s a giddy feeling in his chest that warms him to every corner of his soul when he watches them bump against the covered edges, and send a silent grateful look to the sticker?
He had an ambition. He was using these feelings that he’s never felt before, but make him feel so good to fuel himself. He’s doing what he was trained to do. He wasn’t going to let anything stop him.
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dellalyra · 1 year
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OMG I WAS JUST HAVING BRAINROT ABOUT GOJO AND Y/N IN THEIR TEEN YEARS AND
imagine that back then they had to participate in a talent show or something and megumi and the rest watch the old video tape they found in the darkest corner of the library on campus.
the tape was in a box with a label reading "the best jujutsu tech students' and its just filled with memories of their teen years.
they decide to watch the talent show one and its just chaotic as hell. mid way through megumi, nobara and yuuji get caught watching it lmao
𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨, 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙖, 𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣! 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴
A/N: this request. came in last night - and it’s all I’ve done today because it was so perfect it’s all I could think about. ur amazing ily
CW: swearing, weed, suggestive stuff, mdni i stg shoo
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“Itadori! Bring these to the garbage!” Nobara shouts.
“Why me?! Why can’t you do it?!” He retorts as Megumi just rolls his eyes at the two of them, he wonders how they turned into siblings so easily.
“Fushiguro! Tell your boyfriend to take this to the garbage. It’s heavy and he should use his freaky wall-breaking strength for something useful!” She shouts back.
“Eh?! Is exorcising cursed and carrying you like a sack of flour not useful?! Or always carrying all your dumb shopping?!” They’ve broken into an all out sibling squabble by now, Megumi just turns away and continues the task of clearing out the storeroom behind the dojo in the school. Pushing boxes of old files and reports out of the way, he finds a box covered in doodles and stickers, taped shut at the top. He goes to inspect the very out of place container and finds words among the doodles of weirdly shaped beings and flowers.
‘The Best Jujutsu Tech Students.’
“Will you two shut up for two minutes, come look at this.” He says over his shoulder to the two, with Nobara releasing Yuuji from the headlock she somehow got him in.
“Ancient treasure! I told you we’d find something cool.” Yuuji shouts, pumping his fist into the air.
“What is this, Pirates of the Caribbean?! We’re clearing out a high school storage room, dumbass.” The girls rolls her eyes.
They inspect the box, trying to figure out the doodles.
“It doesn’t look super old? Open it, Itadori.” Nobara says.
“Will you quit telling me what to do?!” He says, huffing.
While they resumed the bickering, Megumi took a knife he had hidden in the shadows and sliced through the lines of tape holding the box together. The sound alerted the other two who peered into the box alongside him.
“Wait, are they… DVD’s?” Megumi asks.
“Yeah - but they’re homemade ones. Is there a label on them?” His boyfriend says, leaning in to get a closer looks.
The box itself was filled with small DVD cases of many colours - all labelled in a scrawling handwriting the kids felt like they knew.
“There’s a DVD player in the room where I hung out when I was dead.” Yuuji says, and hauls the box up and begins to walk. None of them even needed to discuss whether or not they’d be watching them, like a hive mind - but with maybe two shared brain cells.
They all made their way across campus, to a room in the same building as their Sensei’s office.
Nobara insisted on grabbing snacks from the vending machine en route, and they sat down on the sofa while Yuuji loaded the first date labelled ‘2003, December.” Well, that’s what they think it’s said. The handwriting was such a chicken scratch it almost looked like a doctor’s unintelligible writing.
The screen came to life - sounds buzzing and voices echoing (albeit muffled) as the screen panned from looking at the floor - to the sky, the the floor again. Then - a face came on screen.
A very familiar one - but… a hell of a lot younger.
“Wait… is that -?” Nobara asks.
“Shoko-sensei?!” Yuuji exclaims.
“That’s kinda how she looked when I was a kid. She’s in her uniform, so this must be when she was in school.” Megumi adds.
The camera pulls away from the close up on her face as another figure enters the shot - a man with odd bangs, silky black hair tied up into a bun and piercing dark eyes. He had a lazy smile in his face as he looked into the camera, poking a finger into Shoko’s cheek.
“What the fuck, Suguru?!” She says as she flicks his hand away.
“That’s - that’s Geto Suguru.” Megumi says. Geto had always been a bittersweet topic in their house, only getting worse in the last year and a half since… since he died.
The next action causes a gasp to echo across the room. A smiling face pops up between both figures.
Dark, circular sunglasses perched on a slim, pale nose and a wide, toothy, cheeky smile sat under a mop of shocking white, messy hair.
“Holy shit! That’s -” Yuuji starts.
“Dad.” Megumi whispers, seeing Satoru so young, probably around his age was amazing to him.
“Wow! It’s working! Is it on? Is it filming?” 16 year old Gojo says, voice eerily familiar, but much younger.
The three faces were all staring into the lens of the camera, only visible from the shoulders up. On screen, Shoko looked down and moved her arm and another head popped up from the bottom of the screen, trying to squeeze in.
The head of H/C hair and shiny eyes wiggled their way into the shot between Suguru and Shoko, and under Satoru.
“Did you say it’s on? It on recording right now?” The new figure pokes the camera.
“No fucking way… Fushiguro! That’s -” Nobara says, swirling to look at the taller boy.
“My mom.” He says, eyes fixed on screen. Your face was younger, hair the same as ever, eyes still full of excitement and curiosity and voice slightly higher than it is now. A hand pats the top of your head, a pale one - Satoru.
“Do a dance for the camera, Y/N.” Satoru says, smiling.
And you do a little wiggle in your spot squeezed between everyone as the other three burst out laughing.
The camera cuts off, and the screen changes to a view of the outside - all of them immediately recognising the training field.
In view is Geto and Gojo, sparring at such a ridiculously quick speed it’s barely visible. He could hear giggling behind the screen and recognised the voices of you and Shoko laughing about something that happened in class.
“They’re such show offs.” Your voice says.
“Geto genuinely wants to train, Gojo is just trying to impress you.” Shoko says, voice muffled by something - which he later sees as a lollipop, figuring it out when it gets launched across the field - presumably in retaliation for her comment by you.
“No way, Koko! That’s just dumb, he’s just a show off in general.” Your voice echoes.
“Whatever you say, Y/N.”
The camera cuts off again. The next thing they see is the night sky, and raucous laughter. The camera is being held by Shoko again, and she points it to a view of a rooftop - the flat part of the roof of the dorm building. The camera turns to one Suguru Geto, eyes hazy and smile even more languid than normal. In his hand was a smoking object - which he passed to Shoko.
They were both laughing together about Shoko saying she could see a constellation shaped like a penis, and the hysterical giggles and she rested her head on the boys shoulder told them that the joint in Shoko’s hand was very much affecting them.
There were clambering sounds.
“I can’t reach!” Came your voice, distant and off screen.
“C’mere shortstack, I’ll give you a boost.” The teasing lilt of Gojo’s voice came after.
“Thanks, Jack the Beanstalk.” Your retort sent the two original stars into another round of laughter before you and Gojo enter the frame, both holding a plastic bag of snacks.
Shoko gives you the joint as you sit, and you take a quick puff and pass it back to Suguru. Satoru declines it, saying it makes his eyes feel funny to which you all nod and say ‘makes sense’.
“Did you get me spicy chips?” Suguru asks, combing through the bags.
“Yes. But - you had to tell me you love me to get them.” Satoru says, smirking.
“Gojo Satoru - you are the light of my life, the centre of my world, the reason my heart beats, please, May I have my child you absolute fuckwad.” He says, as Satoru throws his head back laughing and throws a red bag of chips at him before tackling him to the ground demanding a kiss.
You laugh at the scene, turning to Shoko.
“See - that’s how Geto has at least one date every weekend.” You say, opening your chocolate.
“Man-whore.” She responds, sucking on a lollipop.
The screen flashes black. The same view is on the screen, but the atmosphere is much calmer. Suguru lay, head on Shoko’s lap and her deft fingers carding through his hair as he listens to whatever nonsense Gojo is spouting. The camera turns to a view that has Nobara and Yuuji cooing. Satoru is sitting, arm around your back to keep you upright with your head on his shoulder, eyes closed and clearly sleeping.
Suguru’s voice whispers into the camera.
“And these two say they’re not into each other.” Followed by a scoff from Shoko.
Next up is a view of the training field again, with a sight that made the three current first years laugh. Suguru was laying on the grass, and he was bench pressing you - his makeshift weight - as you lay relaxed horizontally reading a book, the casual nature made it clear this was a daily occurrence.
Once his reps are finished, he gently lets you down and you don’t even react, just laying on the grass continuing your book. He stands up and waves to Shoko, who he’s just noticed with her camera and proceeds to take off his shirt and let down his hair.
“Put your damn shirt back on!” Shoko shouts.
“God damn, maybe I should be a curse user.” Nobara utters, whistling and fanning herself.
The camera is next held up by Satoru - who smiles and puts a finger to his lips to symbolise silence, for some reason, like the camera would be unexpectedly loud. He turns the camera and in the backseat of a car is Shoko and you, both asleep and earphones split between you with a bright pink iPod on Shoko’s lap. Her head was resting in the crook of your neck, and you cheek rested on top of your head.
“They really have always been best friends, haven’t they?” Yuuji says. Megumi is reminded of last week, when Nobara and Yuuji fell asleep in the back of Ijichi’s car, in the exact same position.
The camera operator is back to Shoko now, who is filming the most beautiful scenery. Sakura petals are drifting through the air as throngs of people wander around what appears to be a festival. There’s food stalls and trinket stands and everyone around is in their finery.
“Suguru! Show the camera your best pose.” Shoko says, as Suguru appears on screen decked out in a black and grey kimono with his hair in a half up, half down style.
He throws a peace sign at the camera and then takes it so he can film Shoko who’s in a pretty red Yukata pattered with black and white koi. She smiles and then waves as she looks off camera.
“You’re late, Satoru. Where’s Y/N?” She says as Gojo comes on screen.
He’s wearing a dark blue and silver hakama which looks like it cost the same as a house, Suguru wolf whistles and Satoru pretends to fawn over him.
“She was having lunch with her mom, she’s probably going to be here - holy shit.” Satoru says, but cuts himself off halfway as his jaw drops open.
The camera pans messily as Suguru turns to where Satoru is looking.
You’re walking toward them, smile on your face and usually messy hair styled in a beautiful updo, make up making your skin glow in the afternoon sun. You were wearing a light pink, billowy, gauzy hanfu with tiny pale green flowers and leaves around the edges. You did truly look incredibly stunning. You had a little bag in your hand, and the camera flew back to look at Satoru who was gaping at your approaching figure. His usually pale skin flushed with a pink dusting.
His mouth moves, and it seems unconscious when he whispers to himself.
“Beautiful…”
You walk into the frame, smiling brightly and hugging Shoko and then freezing when you see Satoru, eyes widening at the strikingly handsome figure he makes, every inch a fairytale Prince. The pink on your cheek matches your outfit as you stammer out a breathy,
“Hi, Satoru.”
“Hey, Y/N.” He says, mouthing opening and closing as you look at him through fluttering lashes.
There’s a jolt as it seems Suguru holding the camera elbows his best friend and whispers in his ear, just audible to the camera.
“Bro, tell her she looks beautiful, damn it.”
“You… you look um - beautiful, Y/N.” He stammers out, and the three first years watching laugh at how their oh-so-smooth sensei was once such a mess he needed prompting to flirt from his friends.
You flush even deeper.
“Thank you, Satoru. You look really good too. The um… the blue really suits you. The restaurant I had lunch with my mom had Sakura mochi, so I - I got you some.” You say as you shove a small nicely wrapped box at him and Satoru seems to melt. Shoko appears on screen, making a circle with one hand and poking a finger through it repeatedly in a very lewd gesture that has Suguru cackling.
“Wait - they’re not even together yet. They didn’t get together until the end of their second year.” Megumi muses, smirking.
“So they’ve always been this whipped for each other.” Nobara laughs.
The DVD ends there, and Yuuji jumps up to put in the next one, labelled ‘second year’.
The video begins with you sprinting toward Shoko and her catching you in her arms.
“I missed you so much! A whole summer without you, it was torture. How was the medical camp?” You ask her, barely taking a breath between words.
“Did you not miss me, lil’ lady?” Came a smooth voice as one Geto Suguru wraps his arms around you too, and you squeal in excitement. The three standing are then abruptly tackled to the ground as a blur of white and black whizzes toward them.
“Satoru!” Came three scolding voices.
“How the fuck did you do that, you lanky - oh.” Shoko is stopped abruptly as they all stand up and the change in Satoru is clearly visible. Long gone is the beanstalk boy of their first year, all arms and legs at 16 and now at almost 18 - a broad shouldered, 6ft 3, sharper jawline and longer hair Gojo stands before them. You look like you might faint.
The video stops and then resumes looking at a very familiar blackboard, and a much younger Yaga beside it.
In front of the blackboard there’s two students in Jujutsu High uniforms - both in party hats and standing under a banners with ‘Welcome First Years!’ written in big bubble writing on it, the sounds of streamers and party poppers came through the room as the camera was set down on a desk.
Gojo comes on screen and waves his arms as if to show off the two students. One looked incredibly happy, a beaming smile full of excitement and the other looking absolutely miserable, but given how painfully 2005 emo he looked - it wasn’t surprising. Megumi smirked, seeing the blond boy on screen and knowing exactly who it was from photo albums you kept - but he waited to see when the other two would notice.
“Welcome to Yu Haibara! Please - introduce yourself!” Gojo says, pointing a bottle of cola at him like a microphone.
“Hi! I’m Yu! I’m 16 and I like rice and people!” He says, voice full of enthusiasm.
“Thank you! Next up, Gerard Way!” Satoru smiles and point the mock microphone to the other boy.
“Do I have to? This feels unnecessary.” He says, grimacing.
“Yes! You do!”
“Fine. My name is Nanami Kento -”
Megumi didn’t hear the rest of the sentence as a chorus of ‘What the fuck!?’ Echoes from the two beside him.
“Nobara, rewind that - I think I heard it wrong, I thought the emo kid said his name was Nanami, hah!” Yuuji exclaims.
“No need. You heard right.” Megumi smirks.
“No fucking way! That’s Nanamin?!” Yuuji is smiling so wide at the sight of his mentor as a moody teen.
“Yup. I remember his hair like that, he had a lip ring and a nose ring too. Geto Suguru pierced his nose with Shoko’s med kit for him when they drank too much whiskey at my mom’s 18th. There’s a picture of them doing it framed in their room at home.” Megumi scoffs a laugh, the other two in shock at the revelation.
The camera stops again and next time is looking from an upstairs window as voices whisper.
“What is she doing?” Shoko asks.
“It looks like she’s talking?” Geto asks.
“There’s a tiny spike in her cursed energy - wait, I’ll try see if there’s someone around.” He says and the clink of his sunglasses hitting the windowsill breaks the quiet.
On screen, there’s you in a pair of fluffy blue pyjamas and a winter knitted hat as you seem to be kneeling and ushering something small out of a bush. Satoru seems to have gotten distracted and the camera pans to him - who’s just staring out the window with the most dopey, lovestruck smile on his face.
“Satoru.” Suguru says, flicking his ear.
He snarls, but blushes.
“I - I can’t tell but, it kinda seems like? She is trying to talk to something.” He says, as they all crane their necks as you pull something into your arms and stand up, taking off your hat and tucking whatever you found into it and scurrying back inside.
An obnoxious ringtone of crazy frog blasts through the room and Satoru flips open his phone and answers it.
Since it’s you, he puts it on speaker.
“Hey, Satoru - are you still at the store? I - kinda need something, urgently.” Your voice asks.
“Eh - yeah, I’m at the store. What do you need?” He says, trying to hush the two sniggering traitors beside him who are fully aware that he came back from the store an hour ago and is sitting in Suguru’s dorm with them.
“I - um, I need kitten milk.” Your voice says, just as the camera cuts off.
The next few videos are just videos on videos on you and a tiny, tiny kitten, feeding it from a small bottle and it sleeping on your chest, or Satoru playing with it and a ball of wool in hysterical laughter. One video is taken by Shoko with Suguru in the frame playing with the kitten who is trying to catch his bangs and on the sofa, is you sitting on Satoru’s lap, as he looks at you adoringly and you giggle and place a kiss on his lips. Given that it’s about 3/4 of the way through your second year, it means you’re freshly together after torturing your friends with mutual pining.
Megumi looks closer at the kitten, and the tabby is very recognisable to him - given that to this day, the hairs of that kitten, now 13 years old and still thriving due to your unwavering spoiling, still decorate any black fabric in your home.
“Is that baby grumpy George?!” Nobara asks, hitting the nail on the head.
The video fades again, and then the screen is illuminated by a makeshift stage in the school sports hall. Another large banner is on the wall, with ‘Talent Show’ written in large writing, Megumi now noticed the big bubble writing was the same as had been on every ‘happy birthday’ banner he’d had every year.
The announcer, he recognises as a smiling principal Yaga - even though this is surely not a school organised or endorsed event, but probably the work of the couple he now calls his parents.
“Welcome to Jujutsu Talent Show! The rules of tonight are as follows a) no cursed techniques or cursed energy and absolutely no sabotaging! Panda! Do you want to say who’s going first?” Yaga announced as he lifts up a baby panda and the voice of the baby says “Nanami and Yu!”.
Yu skips on stage, decked out in a cape patterned with stars and a large top hat, followed by a very sullen Nanami Kento, adorned with a nose and lip ring now.
“Ladies, gentlemen, cursed corpses! My name is Yu the Magic Man and this is my assistant, the Fantastical Nanamin! Does anyone here like rabbits?” He announced, and takes off his hat, revealing a stuffed rabbit on his head - commencing the world’s worst magic show. The highlight was definitely Yu asking Nanami to pull the scarf from his sleeve and after pulling and pulling and pulling, a very frustrated Kento growls ‘Fucking hell, Yu - how long is this thing?’ Completely breaking what little mysticism surrounded the performance. Geto didn’t help, when he muttered ‘that’s what she said’ after Nanami’s complaint, setting the second years off.
After a bow to his rapt audience, and lots of cheering and supportive clapping from you all - the first years leave and Yaga announces the next performance.
A loud bang echoes through the room,
“Holy shit!” Your voice, the 28 year old you, carries through the room as three heads spin around to see their sensei’s back, arms supporting the thighs around his waist, belonging to his wife who’s lipstick is smudged across her cheek and her husband’s face. The white haired man’s white shirt was partially unbuttoned and your sweater had fallen completely off you shoulder - combined with the position you entered the room and the ruined cosmetics it was quite clear why the teachers had stumbled into this forgotten room of jujutsu tech.
“Get a fucking room.” Megumi grumbles.
“We were! But you’re here! And just for that I’m gonna tell you that the sofa you’re sitting on was where Akio was conceived.” Gojo retorts, trying to fix himself as all the kids groan.
“Both of you, hush. ‘Toru - look at the screen.” You were transfixed on the paused screen.
“Wait! Is that - that’s our talent show! From second year! Where did you guys find this?” Satoru says, leaping over the back of the sofa and plopping down but not before turning around and picking you up by the waist and sitting you in his lap.
“I thought all the DVD’s were lost! Koko couldn’t find them after we graduated!” You say, as you keep staring at the screen.
“We were clearing out the storage room, like Ijichi asked and we found a funky box with DVD’s in it.” Yuuji says.
“Oh my god! Press play!” You say, clapping.
“Look at angry Nanamin!” Gojo says, smiling.
“Next up is Y/N and Shoko!” Screen Yaga announces.
You and Shoko are dressed in the most colourful outfits ever, you’re beaming and Shoko looks exhausted. Large headbands, crimped hair, tutu skirts, leggings, neon leg warmers and beads were the costume of choice as Geto stood on one side of the stage.
“Welcome to - Y/N and Shoko’s dance bonanza!” You both say, and Geto presses play so that Girl’s Just Wanna Have Fun plays to match the 80s Cyndi Lauper style outfits. Having danced ballet as a little girl, and being a big fan of Just Dance and Dance Dance Revolution - you decided that you and Shoko would do this for the show, exhausted and unenthusiastic - but endlessly loyal to her best friend and determined to not let Gojo win the show. You guys danced a perfectly in sync routine with 28 year old you shouting ‘Oh my god, I still remember the routine!’ Halfway through. Yuuji was hopping along on the sofa beside Megumi.
Before Shoko could collapse into a heap as the song finished, she was thrown over Suguru’s shoulder and hauled off stage with Gojo doing the same for you.
After a brief intermission, Geto and Gojo were welcomed on stage in matching black tuxedo’s, off camera your voice could be heard saying ‘ugh, I’m gonna climb that man like a tree later, suits are the best.’
“Ladies, gents - tonight welcome to The GS squared stand up comedy show, enjoy your night and Geto’s number is available after the show.” Gojo drawls into the mic.
Megumi didn’t expect the routine to be as funny as it was, everyone especially enjoyed the part where they did impressions of different Jujutsu Elders, including Naobito Zen’in and Principal Gakuganji - which were unnervingly accurate but highly offensive to them, especially when Gojo got on his knees to imitate how short the elder Kyoto principal was and Geto kept playing Looney Tunes on the projector to show Naobito’s ‘cursed technique’.
When the audience were thoroughly hysterically laughing, with the audience being Yaga, MeiMei, Panda, Y/N, Shoko, Yu, Kento and Utahime who was visiting Shoko for the weekend, the boys bowed, winked and walked off stage and the camera caught Gojo bending down to whisper something in his ear which had you looking at the sky and blushing - still getting used to openly loving each other.
The voting wasn’t recorded, but the winners announcement was and it was shown to be Yu and Nanami - who everyone, except for themselves had voted for.
“Oh my god, these are priceless! I can’t believe I got even funnier with age, and look at your cute little outfit, princess!” Satoru coos.
“There’s a whole box of them, we’ve only watched 2!” Yuuji says, bouncing and handing the box to you and Satoru.
“No way, it’s the whole box! I remember decorating it with Koko! Hold on, I’m gonna ring her to come here.” You say as you take out your phone, smiling at the lockscreen of Satoru, Megumi and your 6 month old son and pulling up Shoko’s contact to ring her to ‘get her ass down here for a surprise’.
“Oh, ‘toru! I bet our DVD of our trip together to Fiji in the summer of third year, Shoko lent us her came for it!” You say, wrapping your arms around him and settling in while Yuuji loads the next DVD.
“Classes are cancelled, I’ve decided it’s home movie day - do we have any popcorn?” Satoru says, smiling at how fondly Megumi is looking at the screen, a still pause screen of himself and you smiling in the training yard together - still looking as lovingly at each other 13 years later. Yuuji has his arm wrapped and Megumi’s shoulders and is leaning into him, as the dark haired boy rubs circles on his boyfriend’s knee - Nobara has her legs stretched across the laps of both boys as the newest video begins.
The door swings open, Shoko entering -
“No fucking way! You found them! Kids, move up - let Aunty Koko sit.” She says, plopping herself between the arm and her two best friends, her nephew and their bonus kids.
She’s glad she bought that camera.
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gay-dorito-dust · 1 month
Note
Imagine Bill/Stanford x a clumsy reader who is constantly getting injured or stumbling and bumping into something.
Going on a long hike? Reader falls and busts their fuckin knee. Walking by the fridge after grabbing a snack? Slips over a puddle of water and breaks their wrist.
I'm genuinely curious as to how they would respond separately, constantly having to deal with reader's shit.
Love your content, by the way. Keep up the good work! :D 💗
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Bill cipher
Finds it funny, after all pain is hilarious to him but it’s made even more funnier if someone else is doing it to themselves.
Don’t expect him to help you in any way shape or form, he’s like one of those friends who’ll laugh as you fall down the stairs before ever thinking of helping you back up.
But in this instance he just leaves you in pain and gets all bothered when you’re all healed up again, claiming that you’re not as fun as you are when you’re injured. So I’d watch your step for the next couple of days for banana peels or anything that could cause you physical harm.
You’re his very own version of you’ve been framed with how often you managed to end up hurting yourself over near enough everything, so much so that he just develops a sixth sense when you’re about to hurt yourself and appears just in time to whiteness it with some deer teeth.
Needless to say Bill will find your sprained ankles, busted kneecaps and broken arms hilarious and might even record his favourite ones to look back on when he’s bored to reminisce over the good times. (I don’t know what else you expect of me for him. It’s bill cipher, he’s the least helpful dude in existence)
Stanford Pines
Poor guy had gotten more and more grey hairs because of how accident prone you are. He would like you very much in one piece thank you very much.
Also he’s got good reflexes for a man of his age and would most likely be able to catch you by the arm or the waist before you even fall or trip while asking if you were okay with the most concerned look upon his face.
He’ll gladly let you use him as crutch when you’ve tripped and busted your knee or sprained your ankle, anything that he could do to make sure that you were in less pain then you already were, Ford will do it in a heartbeat in hopes that he’d never have to do this again. Only to later come to terms that he was with the most clumsiest person in all of Gravity Falls, and that he would be used as your personal crutch constantly.
After a couple more accidents and Ford is already carrying a makeshift first aid kit and had done intensive research on all he needed to deal with things like bruises, cuts and sprains just for you. However he’ll always try to move you away from any and all potential hazards, only for him to look back at you to see that you’ve somehow managed to trip on thin air and bruise your chin.
You’re lucky this man loves you dearly because you had proven yourself to be a handful at some cases, but Ford knew it wasn’t your fault and would never make it out to be your fault in the slightest. And yet the temptation to baby proof everything -especially the lab- was strong within him, but would rather keep an eye on you himself to make sure you somehow didn’t hurt yourself on the corner of a table or counter.
He only knew you would because you did bump into the corner of a table once and tried to hide it from him, but he knew you better then most and immediately gets an ice pack for your bruise. At this point you being accident prone was about as normal as waking up to being covered in Mabel’s stickers or almost tripping over Waddles because he was sleeping nearby.
Yes you once tripped over waddles because he was sleeping near your bed once, did you hurt yourself? Obviously. Did Ford have to take care of you? Of course he did but he didn’t mind taking care of you now and then as you did the exact same whenever he got himself hurt. You weren’t aloud in certain places without Ford because there was too much where you could hurt yourself on, that and Ford didn’t feel like having a heart attack every five seconds you came even remotely close to injuring yourself. Again.
He kisses your bruises and cuts. Fight me I’m in a soft mood.
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wriothesleybear · 6 months
Text
Based off of this magnificent fanart
~warnings: a lot of fluff and romance, a bit suggestive in Wrio’s part, fem!reader. Word count: 1.6k
~a/n: I couldn’t get over the fanart of Wrio and Diluc as firefighters and I just had to write about it. It’s my first time writing for Diluc so I hope it’s ok. This is also in honor of getting a body pillow of him. It’s so beautiful and I sleep much better with it.
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Firefighter!Wrio who you met when he rescued your cat from a tree. You couldn’t help but swoon from the image of this large, buff, muscled man holding a little kitten in his arms. You thank him and he can’t help but think about how beautiful you are. He was about to ask you for his number when he got called for another emergency. You meet him again when your cat gets stuck in a tree again. He feels slightly guilty for being thankful that your cat got stuck again so you two could meet again. After he hands you your cat back, he smiles down at you and asks you for your number. You blush and give it to him.
Firefighter!Wrio who is the type of boyfriend to tease and flirt with you. He has a playful and chill attitude outside of work compared to his focused and serious attitude at work. He likes to carry you a lot, either bridal style or throws you over his shoulder to get you into a giggling mood. It always cheers you up when you’re feeling down. Loves tickle fights. He will actually chase you around the house until he catches you, dragging you to the couch so you two can snuggle. Once he’s got you in a cuddle hold, there’s no getting up for a while.
Firefighter!Wrio who loves kisses and make out sessions. While you’re busy doing something, he’ll wrap his arms around you and pepper kisses down your neck until you decide to drop what you’re doing and give him your full attention. He enjoys when your fingers slide down his body, nails lightly scratching his skin as you admire his build and muscles. He really likes it when you pepper kisses on his scars.
Firefighter!Wrio who is a mixture of a golden retriever boyfriend and scary dog boyfriend. The golden retriever portion is due to him doing anything for you and being needy for affection. He’s always touching you in some way and follows you around the house like a puppy. The scary dog boyfriend is due to him looking scary to those who don’t know him. The piercing, scars, and large build sort of intimidate other guys from approaching you or bothering you. Little do they know, he’s just a golden retriever boyfriend who wants affection and cuddles. He is very protective as well.
Firefighter!Wrio who is great with kids and animals. He lets kids decorate his items with stickers because he can’t say no to them. If it makes them happy and smile, then who is he to take that away from them, he’ll deal with the onslaught of stickers. He sometimes thinks about what it would be like if it was your kids that were covering his things with stickers.
Firefighter!Wrio who loves to lay on your chest while your fingers rake through his hair. It helps him sleep better after a long stressful day. He acts a bit off when he’s had a hard day. He doesn’t really like to talk about the bad work days because he doesn’t want to spread the negativity to you but you can tell when he’s had a bad one. You don’t try to push him to talk if he doesn’t want to so you just open your arms for him and hold him. He can feel the weight lift off his shoulders when you hold him. It lets him know that it’ll be okay and that you’re always there for him even when you don't verbally say it or not.
Firefighter!Wrio who exercises on his free time. You love watching him work out and he likes your attention on him. Your eyes focus on his muscles as they flex when he does pull ups. Droplets of sweat slide down his sweat slicked skin, causing his skin to glisten in the lighting. While lost in your daze, you’re snapped out of it when he leans down in front of you, a hand positioned on each side of you on the bench, and he makes a flirty comment like “Darling, you’re drooling a bit. Am I really that mesmerizing?” as he gives you his signature teasing smirk. He’ll then offer you to join him in the shower. It turns out to be a very long shower that involved more than just washing each other’s body.
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Firefighter!Diluc who you met when he saved you from a small kitchen fire. You were trying to bake something and it didn’t work out, therefore, it ended up in a fire. You felt so bad and embarrassed but he just reassured you that these happen a lot so it’s no big deal. He looks at the burnt pastries and points out that you accidentally put the temp up too high for too long causing the fire to occur. He sees the shameful look on your face and gives you a gentle look and some reassuring words on not to give up on baking. You smile and thank him and he swears his heart skips a beat at your beautiful smile. He’s unable to think about it further as he’s called away for another emergency.
Firefighter!Diluc whose heart skips a beat again when you show up at his firehouse later that week, gifting him some pastries you made as a thank you. You joke and say that they should taste better than the burnt ones you made last time. He covers his face to hide the slight blush that begins to cover his cheeks as he accepts your gift. You two exchange numbers as friends until it develops into something more.
Firefighter!Diluc is the slowburn type. You two start off as friends first, hanging out and all that until romantic feelings begin to blossom between the two of you as you get to know each other more. When he's sure you feel the same, he gathers the courage to ask you out on a date. He gives a small smile when you say yes. His shoulders relax and his heart is racing a bit more when he finally hears that you feel the same.
Firefighter!Diluc who is the protective type of boyfriend that spoils his s/o. He loves spending time with you doing mundane things. Cooking, having movie night, reading together, shopping, etc. You two could be doing the most boring activity and he’d still enjoy it because all he cares about is being with you.
Firefighter!Diluc who is a great cook and enjoys cooking/baking with you. He gives cooking advice and hugs you from behind while you cook. He says it's easier for him to help and supervise what you’re doing this way, but in reality, he just wants to be close to you as much as he can. He’s more than happy to taste test your cooking creations. (Plus he helps to make sure you don’t accidentally start another fire again). He thinks your concentration face is adorable.
Firefighter!Diluc who gives you a passionate kiss before he leaves for work. Neither of you ever know what could happen so he wants to make sure that you know how he feels about you in case it’s the last time you see him. He keeps pictures of you and him together in his work locker. It comforts him when he misses you and gives him the courage and strength to make sure he comes back home to you.
Firefighter!Diluc is the type to not discuss his work at home as well. He wouldn’t want to burden you with stress and worries. When he’s had a bad day, he’s pretty good at hiding it, but you’ve learned to read his cues that show he’s not doing too well mentally. You immediately drop everything and guide him over to the couch where you let him bury his head in your neck as you hold each other close. His hold is tight around you, but not constricting. You give him words of comfort while rubbing his back and playing with his long, beautiful red hair. He basks in your affection and comforting touches, inhaling your scent which helps calm him down as he nuzzles into your neck.
Firefighter!Diluc who lets you play with his hair. You have a blast trying multiple different hairstyles on him while he relishes in the feeling of your gentle touch on his hair. After a long day, when you two take a relaxing bath, he appreciates it when you take the time to wash his hair. It’s a rewarding massage that helps him relax and feel sleepy. He swears you have magical hands by the effect you have on him. All you have to do is touch a part of his body and he melts into your touch.
Firefighter!Diluc who loves holding hands with you. The feel of his warm, calloused hands compared to your gentle, soft ones. Your touch is like heaven to him. He prefers leaving kisses on your hands the most. Please cup his face. He’ll absolutely melt right then and there and give you anything you want. He also likes resting your foreheads together. He wraps his strong arms around your waist, holding you close as you cup his cheeks, leaning your forehead against one another and gaze into each other’s eyes. He thinks it’s the most intimate and romantic thing you two do.
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bunnywritesjunk · 1 year
Text
My King
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Series summary: Your parents signed you up for an Alpha Omega Match company when you were eighteen. It took years for them to find your match, but you meet the giant austrian man. Will he be a good partner?
Chapter summary: You get a call from your mother regarding your match. You are nervous to meet them, but they turn out to be a pleasant surprise.
Pairing: König x Fem Reader
Warnings: A/B/O dynamics (Never use this abbreviation without the slashes it is an indigenous slur) 18+ MDNI (no others for this chapter)
Word count: 4.1k (damn thats a lot for me)
Genre: Mostly Fluff a little angst here and there.
A/n: Yo Yo Yo whatup. New fic dropping. This one is black/poc coded but anyone can read. I haven't seen any poc coded cod fics just yet (if you know any send them my way). If you do not like Omegaverse fics please do not read. Also I tried making a cute little mood board, i think it sucks but I tried my best. Konig art credit. (I couldn't find the art credit for the girl). König and reader are neurospicy. I got inspired to do an Apex Alpha König from @ghostlythunderbird go give them some love please. Also this is kinda what I imagine him looking like.
Next Chapter
Chapter One:
His back ached as he climbed the few steps to his door. The passage back to his home was uncomfortable. All König wanted to do with collapse on his bed. The duplex he resided in was decent, the little old woman who rented it to him was very sweet. König had a hard time getting anyone to rent to him. His status as an Apex alpha was concerning for most people. They believed him to be violent and inconsiderate. His landlord is an omega that lives with her alpha mate. König managed to convince her. She thought he was sweet and kind. He opened the foyer door that lead to both apartments. He glanced at the mailbox, wondering if he should wait until morning. Begrudgingly, he took out the small mailbox key and fiddled the metal box open. He grabbed the plethora of mail and closed the box gently. The box was filled up quite a bit as he had not been home in a couple of weeks. 
Heading up the stairs he filed through the mail. Most were junk coupons and magazines, some were credit card sign-up letters. One envelope caught his eye. It had no company name just a large white manila envelope addressed to him. He opened his door and stepped inside placing the mail and his belongings on his couch. He ripped open the envelope and took out a thin book. It had the circular logo of the AOMO, the Alpha Omega Match organization. 
König started at the cover his heartbeat sped up the longer he thought about it. He signed up for the program after a particularly hard mission he had in KorTac. He left and joined the 141 and decided he wanted an omega. A lot of the men in the 141 had partners they could come home to. König wanted that. Most people were too afraid to be in a committed relationship with him. König often settled for one-night stands with betas but it left him feeling empty. He opened the packet to the first page.
'Congratulations!' The first word read. His heart beat harder the more he read. 
'We have found you a match!' König's heart felt like it was going to pound out of his chest. 
'In the plastic wrap, we've provided a fresh scent sample from your potential match. If you like the scent of your match, please send us a scent sample from you as soon as possible.' 
König gripped the packet and leaned over the table, putting his weight on the table. He took a deep breath, he felt a mix of fear and excitement. When he signed up he was not hopeful for a match. He assumed his situation was too complicated for them. He flipped through the packet before reading the rest searching for the scent sample. A plastic bag fell out onto the table. It was sealed and had a verification sticker assuring its authenticity. König picked up the bag carefully. It had a square of white fabric inside it. He took his hood off before opening the bag gingerly. The scent instantly made his knees weak. This Omega had a warm and spicy scent. Coconut and sugary vanilla with hints of sandalwood. König stuffed his nose into the bag inhaling the deep rich smell of this Omega. 
König sealed the scent sample wanting to savor it. He opened the packet back up to the first page. It said once he mailed his scent sample and was approved by his match, they would arrange a meeting with him and his match. There was more information about this Omega and their family along with the reasoning for them picking them. They informed him that this omega was a twenty-six-year-old female. Her father is also an Apex Alpha, he is retired American military. They did not provide a picture of any matches because they wanted the connection to be based on instinct rather than looks. Her mother is an Omega that works as a teacher. There is not much else about the Omega but, König is hopeful. He reads the instructions to send his scent sample. They provided a kit with a form envelope, a small square of fabric, and a plastic bag, almost identical to the one he received from his match. 
'Wash your hands, and rinse any dirt off of your scent glands.'
'Then remove the fabric from the plastic.'
'Rub the fabric on your clean scent glands for 20-25 minutes.'
'Seal the fabric thoroughly in the bag provided .'
He shed his vest and protective gear, the last thing he wanted was for her to smell dust and gunpowder on him. König tried to quell his excitement as he followed the directions. Rushing to his bathroom and then back to his dining room. The fabric square was slightly smaller than his palm. He cupped the crook of his neck, sandwiching the fabric between his hand and his neck. He rubbed gently filling it with his scent. He read the rest of the packet as he rubbed. The rest was mostly semantics about the company and its policies. He combed it a few more times trying to memorize every piece of information about his Omega. 
König smiled gently, he shouldn't think of her as his yet. She smelled so good, too good for him. He smelled the cloth every once in a while to ensure his scent was potent enough. When he was done he placed it in the bag and sealed it. He filled out the form and packed the pre-paid envelope neatly. He grabbed his keys and left his apartment to go to the mail drop-off on the corner of the block. He needed to send it today, he wouldn't be able to sleep if he didn't. He walked back to his apartment having long forgotten about his back pain. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You looked at the list on your phone pushing your shopping cart. Buying the week's groceries had fallen to you this time as your mother was dealing with state testing for her students and your dad was on a hunting trip. You maneuvered the isles expertly collecting the items on your list. As well as some extra sweet snacks you like to indulge in much to our mother's chagrin. You were about to put a pack of Oreos in the cart when your mom called.
“Hello?” You answered but all you can hear was excited screeching. You held the phone away from your ear until she quieted down. 
“He accepted you!!!” She screamed. 
“What? Mom, you're too loud.” 
“The match company! The match they picked liked your scent.” She giggled. 
You were slightly stunned. Your parents signed you up for the AOMO when you were eighteen. You weren't that on board with it but you let them. You know they only want the best for you. You kept sending scent samples every year but they never got back to you about anything. Now, six years later they show up with a match for you. 
“I just got the call, they're sending a scent sample for you right now it's gonna get here in a few days.” 
“Wow...” That was all you managed to say. 
“Now I know this wasn't your ideal way to meet someone, but just please be open-minded sweetheart.” 
You sighed. “I will. I'm finishing up at the grocery and I'll head home.”
“Alright, I'm gonna be home soon too, bye sweetie.” 
You hung up the phone and stood in the aisle. You placed the pack of Oreos in the cart and moved to get the rest of the items before checking out. 
When you arrived home your mother was there waiting. She squealed and hugged you before helping you take the grocery bags inside. 
“I am so excited for you! I have heard so many good things about the AOMO. I bet whoever they picked is gonna be great.”
“Let's hope.” You say. 
The next few days went by quickly. You dove into writing your next few chapters to take your mind off of the match. The sequel to your best-selling fantasy novel was underway. Your days consisted of writing, planning, engaging with fans, and talking to your editor. You typed out the outline for the next few chapters when you heard a knock. 
“Come in.” You said. 
Your mother walked in holding a large envelope. “Guess what came today?” She said excitedly. 
 Your heart thumped with anxiety. She placed the envelope on your desk.
“I’ll leave you to it, let me know if you like them.” She sauntered out of the room happily. 
You picked up the envelope and opened it pulling out a packet of information. You flipped to the first page. 
‘Congratulations!’ It read. 
‘The match we have chosen for you wants to meet you. Once you contact us with your acceptance of their scent, we will arrange for them to meet you and your family with the chaperone of one AOMO agents to facilitate. The two of you will go on a date and get to know each other before deciding whether to move forward. If you do not accept the scent, we will put you back in our database to be matched with someone else.’ 
In the middle of the pages, there was a plastic bag with a white cloth in it. You picked it up and sighed. You doubted you would like the scent. Most alphas were off-putting to you, either way too strong of a scent of they smelled like dishwater. You opened the bag casually and took a whiff. Your inner Omega preened at the musk that erupted from the bag. 
“Oh my…” You inhaled deeply. 
This Alpha…smelled good? He smelled like chocolate and dark roast espresso. There were some hints of fresh baked bread and cinnamon. You caught yourself before you got lost in his scent. You sealed the bag up and took a breath. Maybe, this would be a good experience for you. You scanned through the rest of the information looking over what little they provide about this Alpha. He is a male Alpha, non-American but they did not specify what country. The only other thing they said about him was that his demeanor was shy and that he is military. The instructions said to call the number if you wanted to meet him. You reached for your phone a little too eagerly and dialed the number. A woman’s voice answered.
“Hi, you’ve reached the Alpha Omega Match organization how may I help you?”
“Hi, um I got an Alpha’s scent in the mail, and I want to meet him.” You said awkwardly.
“What’s your name and date of birth?” You told her, nervously. 
“Please hold while I transfer you.” 
The light piano hold music came on, you fidgeted with your sleeve. 
“This is Kara, how may I help you?”
“Oh hi, I got an Alpha’s scent in the mail and I would like to meet him.”
“Alright, let me get your file from reception she’s sending it right now…Ah got it. Oooh ok great I am your agent that will be facilitating this meeting. Your parents will want to meet him yes?”
“Definitely.”
“Ok so, what we will do is you and your parents will meet me at a public space of your choice then. I will bring you to meet the Alpha first, then your parents. We like to keep parent meetings brief as they tend to try and challenge the Alpha. I will have you know, this Alpha is an Apex like your dad. That is one of the reasons we chose you as his match, you have experience with an Apex. Will you be comfortable with all that?”
“Yeah, that’s fine.” Your head was reeling from all this information. Great, I see you guys are in New York City which is one of my favorite places to visit. Do you have anywhere in mind to meet?” 
“Um, we could do the Highline, there’s food, and it's pretty.” 
“Oh, that’s a great idea let me write it down here. How does September ninth at noon sound to you? A weekday so there are not too many people.” 
Your heart jumped, that’s in two days.
“Uh, sure.” 
“Alright, I will send you a follow-up email regarding our plans all you need to do is confirm. Your match will be notified, and his flight will be booked as soon as we receive confirmation. Do you have any other questions?” 
“No not at the moment.” 
“Ok, don’t hesitate to reach out if you have any concerns. I will see you in a few days.” 
“Bye.” 
You put your phone on your desk and walked out of your room. Your mother was standing a few feet away from your door. When she noticed you, her face lit up.
“So? How was the scent? Are you meeting them?” 
You smiled and nodded “Yup, in two days.” 
She squealed and captured you in a bone-crushing hug.
“I can’t wait! Let’s go tell your father!” She practically ran down the hall. 
You walked to your living room where your otherwise stoic-looking dad was watching TV. 
“Tell us about them, sweetheart.” Your mother said. Your dad turned the volume on the TV down and looked at you expectantly.
“Well, I don’t know much but, I know he’s not American and that he might be shy…He smells good.” 
“That’s important, I hope you wouldn’t pick someone who smells like shit.” Your dad chimed in. 
“He’s also military, and an Apex.” You added quickly. 
Your mother gasped quietly, and your father raised his eyebrows.
“Now that’s intriguing.” Your mom said smiling.
“You already booked a meeting with him?” Your dad asked. You nodded. 
“You should’ve asked me first.” He pinched his nose bridge in annoyance. 
“Well, he’s my match and I wanted to meet him.”
“Apex Alphas are dangerous. I would know.”
“Oh, please honey it’ll be fine.” Your mother ridiculed him.
“It’s my choice, Dad. You guys are the ones who signed up, I finally got a match, so I want to see it through. If it doesn’t work out, then I’ll call it off.”
Your father growled lowly. “Fine.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your mother insisted to dress you in a cutesy outfit, so you let her have her moment. She dressed you in a dark floral dress that hugged your curves just right. She added dainty jewelry along with your protective collar. You didn’t usually wear it but again, she insisted. She did your hair half up half down. Your dad was waiting by the front door with your mom’s purse in hand. 
The train ride there was silent, your mother looked utterly content while your father was peeved about this whole situation. You arrived at the station and walked to the Highline. You got a text from Kara telling you what she looked like and where she was. She was wearing a dark blue pencil skirt and a white blouse. She stood up as you and your family approached. You stuck your hand out to shake hers.
“Nice to meet you guys, come sit.” She said motioning to the bench she was on. 
Your father stayed standing while you and your mother took a seat next to her. 
“So, there are some things I want to go over with you all and then I’ll talk to you privately and do the official meeting ok?”
“He’s here?” You said in an almost panicked tone.
Kara chuckled. “He is here but I left him to wait somewhere out of sight for now.”
She continued. “His name is König, he was born in Austria. When we did his psyche and personality evaluations, we found that he has neurodivergent tendencies, like you. Our matches with people that have a similar way of communicating have gone well.”
“Wait, neurodivergent?” Your mom chimed in. 
“Yes, your daughter did show signs of some behavioral abnormalities, but she is high functioning.”
“I told you that Mom.” You say giving her a deadpan look. Your mother looked down and gave a small ‘hmm’. Kara continued. 
“He does struggle with social anxiety so please be patient with him. Other than that, he currently lives in Amsterdam, if you choose to go forward that is where you will live.”
Your dad finally spoke “Is Amsterdam safe for people like us?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. 
“Oh yes, Amsterdam has many people from different places and backgrounds. It is one of the most popular immigration and tourist countries, don’t worry.”
“Alright, how about you come with me, and we’ll get your meeting started.”
Kara led you away, you turned and did a small wave to your parents your mom smiled back at you warmly. 
“So, I will be in contact with you the whole time. If you want to go just say the word, I am never going to be more than a couple minutes away. Honestly, I don’t think you’ll have any issues with him.” 
She led you to a restaurant below the high line, it had indoor and outdoor seating. There were a lot of people laughing and drinking. Your heartbeat sped up as you scanned the crowd. The scent of food entered your nose. Everyone’s scent in the dining area mixed into an indescribable concoction. Among the borderline overwhelming smells, you got a hint of something familiar, espresso. 
You scanned the large room trying to pinpoint where it was coming from or if you were just imagining it. I dark figure near the corner of the room caught your eye. He looked way too large for the chair he was sitting in. He was looking down at his hands, dirty blonde hair covered his forehead. He was wearing a black cloth mask along with a form-fitting black shirt. As soon as you walked in he raised his head. You looked away pretending you weren't staring at him. Kara led you straight to his table.
“This is König.” She gestured to him. 
He stood up to shake your hand still keeping himself hunched at the waist to appear smaller. You shook his hand and smiled as you introduced yourself. He nodded and said a small 'hmm' to acknowledge you. 
“Alright, I'll be near. Have fun.” Kara left swiftly.
You sat down in the chair across from him as he did the same. A wave of anxiety came as you did, not knowing how to break the ice with him. You picked up the menu and scanned it.
“Did you order yet?” You ask.
“No, I was waiting for you.”
“Well thank you, what looks good?” 
“The Steak frites look pretty good.” He glued his menu.
“I'm excited for dessert, they have chocolate cheesecake.”
He chuckled and it made your stomach flip.
“You like sweets?” He asked.
“Very much.” You smile at him. 
The waitress came over and asked if you wanted any drinks. König looked at you, waiting for you to order first. 
“I'll try the elderberry gin and tonic.” You said.
 Konig was about to order when the table next to us erupted in loud laughter. He jumped slightly before answering the waitress. 
“I'll get the house Lager.” He said. 
The waitress left to grab the drinks. The adjacent table was still very loud. The group of friends hollering and screaming obviously day drunk. Konig had his head slightly turned away from them in an attempt to lessen the noise. It was subtle but you could tell. You reached into your bag and brought out a pair of foldable headphones. You turned on the noise cancellation and gave them to him. He looked slightly confused. 
“Put them on.” You encourage him. 
When he did the noise muffled and the restaurant was much quieter. You could see the tension in his shoulders ease by the second. His scent sweetened
“Is that better? Can you hear me ok?” 
König swears he could've kissed you right then and there, but he settles on a nod. 
“Thank you, Leibe.” 
“No problem.”
The waitress came by with the drinks and asked if the two of you are ready to order entrees. You ordered the fish and König ordered the Steak. While you waited, you two had a pleasant small talk about his flight and how he is enjoying his visit. He hesitated to take off his mask at first so you focused on your menu to give him the space to be comfortable with you. You glanced up and took in his face. He was beautiful, he had scars on his face that added ruggedness to his chiseled features. König noticed your scent amplify as you gazed at him. His inner alpha pushed him to be closer, to know more about you.
“So, you're in the military?” 
He nods. “I work for a military contractor. Do you work?”
“Sort of, I'm an author so I work from home.”
“That is nice, are you published?” König was secretly very happy he'd get to have you at home all day. 
“Yes, I am. I'm working on my sequel right now. Do you like to read? Or, do you read in German?” 
He chuckled. “I have not had much time to read lately, but I will now.”
“Well, you have to buy my book of course.” You giggled. 
König nearly fell off his chair at the sound. This Omega was everything he wanted. He prayed to whatever god was up there that you felt something with him. By the time the food came you both fell into a comfortable rhythm. He asked about your childhood and hobbies. It was a change of pace, most Alphas are very self-centered, but he is putting effort into getting to know you. The food came out and you both ate. He offered bites of his food for you to try which you happily returned the favor. By the time you finished your food, you hadn't noticed how much time has gone by. Kara texted you to check-in. 
'Hey, so I saw things were going well so I let you guys talk for an hour and a half but, your parents are getting antsy. Are you guys ready to see your parents?' 
“Oh, Kara is asking if we're ready to see my parents.” 
König fiddled with his fork. “I'm ready.” 
He paid the bill and you both left the restaurant. You took in the full size of the Alpha you matched with. He was no less than a giant. He held the door for you but stopped before he walked through. 
“I forgot something, I'll be back.” He walked back into the restaurant. 
Kara walked up to you. “How did it go?” 
“I...really like him...”
“I know, that feeling is scary. I think you guys are a wonderful match.”
König came out holding a small to-go box. He handed it to you, you could tell he was smiling under his mask. 
“What's this?”
Inside the box was a slice of chocolate cheesecake and a fork.
“We forgot to order dessert.” 
You were stunned, you didn't think there could be Alphas that were so thoughtful. Your inner Omega soared, this Alpha was courting you so well. 
“Thank you, König, that's really sweet.” 
“Ah, here they are.” Kara said. 
Your parents walked up to the three of you. Your mother had a surprised but happy look on her face. Your father kept his deadpan face from earlier, not a good sign. 
“Wow, sweetheart you caught a big one!” Your mom chuckled. 
“Parents, this is König.” Kara said. 
Your mother introduced herself and your father as he stood there sizing up the taller Apex. 
“Alright, let's keep things brief parents do you have any questions for König?”
“Well, as long as she likes him I don't.” Your mother said. 
“Can you protect her?” Your dad asked putting some venom behind his words. 
“I would never let anything happen to her sir. You have my word.” König answered without hesitation. 
Your dad nodded and looked at you. “You like him?”
“...Yeah I do.” 
“Alright then, that's all that matters.” 
“Well, I think it's safe to say that the match is made. I will contact you for the next steps. Parents, let's let them say goodbye.” Kara led your parents away.
You turned to König. “Thank you for meeting with me, I had a really good time.” You saw a faint blush at the top of his mask. 
“I also had a good time, liebe.” 
“What does that mean?”
“Ah...it means love.” 
“Oh well...” You motioned for him to come bend down close to you.
When he got close enough you pecked his cheek. 
“I'll see you soon, love.” 
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tadfools · 1 year
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I saw a post that was like ‘these are the cars the bg3 companions would have’ but they were all rich people shit so here’s my version just for funzies
Shadowheart has a Subaru and if you know why then you know why. There’s a moon sun catcher hanging from the review mirror and on the back there’s one of those coexist bumper stickers (it was there when she bought it but she doesn’t take it off cause it might damage the paint under it)
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Karlach has her mom’s old beat up a Honda Civic. It starts rattling if it goes over 90, one of the seatbelt is being held together with duct tape, it smells like crayons, and the check engine light is always on. But good god is it going to get you where you need to go
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Halsin has a jeep Liberty/Cherokee, it’s always covered in mud and it smells like a wet dog…. He doesn’t have a dog
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Lae’zel has a Volkswagen bug. It’s small, dignified, economical even! (Kinda)
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Wyll had a Toyota pickup from the 90’s. It’s not much but it was the first car he bought that wasn’t with his dad’s money, he loves it like a son. It’s name is Alberto
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Rich kid Gale would drive a 68 mustang if he ever left the house. I love the man but he would be one of those people who has a fancy car just to say he has a fancy car and doesn’t have the first clue on how to take care of it
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Jaheria has half a dozen kids at any given moment and has a minivan. Yes, she does have one of those stick figure family window decals. There’s a soccer ball sized dent on the passenger door
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Minsc has a mini cooper. A mini cooper that has more scratches and dings than it should but a mini cooper nonetheless. It got left in the sun way too long and has one of those fading spots on the roof.
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Astarion is the proud owner of a Prius. Her name is Natalie
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Also Withers’ has the car from that 70’s show
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postersofleon · 4 months
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A Better World
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In the life handed to him, Leon managed to have normal life with his pregnant wife and two children. However, nothing in peace can truly exist. He is seeing flashses of a woman and a man. Screams of people begging for him. But he rather just cuddle with his wife in bed than see or help them.
Content: fluff with angst (?)
Notes: afab fem!reader; leon just wants to be a husband and a dad; leon has a breeding kink (only mentioned); i forgot i had this so here ya go; kind of small but i made my peace with it
taglist: @argreion
"Honey, Helena needs your help." You whispered softly into his neck. That small of freedom, and you were trying to get rid of it, Leon's hand gently caressed your cheek. "Helena just needs to learn alone." Leon knows his excuse is bullshit, they were always bullshit, but seeing you smile at his excuse made them perfect. Leon's breath mixed with yours, a brief moment between each other before Leon kissed you.
Lips are strange. Before you, they only tasted like flesh and saliva, and now they gave him butterflies. They meant something.
Leon gently pulled away, "Helena and Sherry can handle themselves." He playfully winked at you. His hands gently rubbed your stomach, "However, this one," Leon loved to see your pregnant belly, "Maybe twins. I like the idea of you having them."
You laughed again, "Your dumb breeding kink is going to kill us." Your hands pushed your body up so you can sit up. "I'll help Helena." Gently, your kiss was pressed against his cheek before you stood up. Leon groaned, "I'll help Helena, too, babe." He didn't want to be the dick father who just spend time with his wife. Slowly, you two were close to their daughter's door. Helena's door was covered with stickers of zombies, Leon didn't know why Helena liked zombies way too much.
Helena was a huge fan of horror and Leon wasn't. He disliked the idea of zombies with his entire heart.
You slowly opened the door where your daughter was trying to find something. "Hi, honey." You sat on the edge of the bed. Leon looked around the room, their room was covered with posters of posters of Chinese restaurants and cities. Helena pouted, "Mom, dad," She sat on the ground, "I can't mind my Ada Wong figure."
Leon closed his eyes. Seeing Helena with a pouted and hearing the name Ada Wong made his stomach tighten. That horrible pressure against his chest made it seem like it pressed more and more against him.
You gently rubbed your belly, "Well, I can try to help." The bed squeezed up, Leon opened his eyes and saw your figure. You were the only thing that mattered right now.
"Didn't," Leon rubbed his eyelids, those fuzzy colors figures appeared in his eyes, "Didn't you pack it already for your college stuff?"
Helena sighed, she looked more and more annoyed at herself, "You don't think Sherry has it." You shook your head, ready to disagree with your teenaged daughter, "I doubt it. Sherry isn't a fan of those." Leon looked above to see the damn Ada Wong poster, she caused this problem into his peaceful life.
Leon groaned softly. Those dad noises were coming more every day, "Can we just forget this Ada Wong figure?" Leon grabbed your hand and pulled you close to him, placing you into his lap. "Helena, we'll just get you another one." Leon opened his legs a bit so you can fit better. He didn't want to help Helena. He just wanted to be with you. His hands traced your stomach in a small period he felt the baby kick.
"But," Helena sat up straight, "It's not like I need it." Leon could tell she was struggling with her words, her brows furrowed, "It's just frustrating to lose it. I need it back."
"I'll help." You whispered softly; you turned around to see Leon, and it made Leon feel guilty. Yet, that won't stop Leon from not helping finding Ada.
Leon gently kissed your temple, "I'll be downstairs." He stood up and left you and Helena alone. For a flash of a second, he saw a bloody body on the ground. He jumped back, and in those exact seconds; the body was gone.
He hated this.
His fingers gently rubbed away the stress from his eyes. The... the stress having a baby... yeah, that was it.
Leon needed you in his arms. You were the only thing that can ease down his nerves.
-
Leon gently rubbed your arms before rubbing your pregnant stomach again. He justed wanted this in his entire life. Just holding your gentle body against his made him feel happy. His blue eyes glanced to see you, he kissed your stomach and relaxed. "I don't want to work anymore." He whispered softly. He didn't even know why he said those words, but... he was honest now.
Your soft hands caressed his blond hair and he closed his eyes to only feel your touch.
He was like a cat craving the sunshine. Crawling over and over- trying desperately to feel the warm of it until the sun was covered by the clouds.
"Baby," Your fingers caressed his jaw, forcing him to look up at you, "You have to." All you saw was his pouty face and his messy blond hair, Leon kissed the palm of your hand. He closed his eyes and saw a woman with black hair and a man with blond hair. He groaned weakly with just the thought of that bloody man and a woman in red.
"I don't want to lose you." He growled softly. Leon hugged your waist tightly. He couldn't help now but feel desperate of just the idea of you. Leon grabbed your pregnant belly and pressed his nose against the crook of your neck.
"Leon? Leon, wake up."
Leon closed his eyes. "No, I don't want to." He can't leave yet. You were so close to giving birth to his kids. He... he needed this moment. He kissed your neck. When the voices calmed down, Leon opened his eyes again and looked at you. You stared back at him. "Leon..." You caressed his cheek again, "Helena needs you." Your voice was gentle and sweet that it just broke Leon's heart. He couldn't even cry or feel anything. All Leon felt was you.
"Am I dead?" He asked you.
You shook your head, "No, you are close to dying." Leon rubbed gently your pregnant belly, his index finger caressing your stretch marks. You forced him to look at you again, "You need to find Ada and help Helena." Leon's eyes looked away before looking at you again. Your fingers gently caressed his wrinkles on his eyebrows, "Promise me, honey." You mumbled.
"Why?" Leon whispered back. He had given everything in this lousy work. He had killed zombies over and over. No matter how many times he tried to save people, they die because of his fault. His curse follows him over and over, and for once in his life... he is happy. Death. Zombies. They don't exist in this world. "I don't want to go back." He groaned softly against your neck.
"Leon!"
The screams were getting louder. He closed his eyes, "Can I stay here for a while?" You nodded your head, but both of you knew it wasn't going to last long. You slowly got up your bed and helped Leon up. You waddled, he held your tummy in attempts to ease your heavy stomach. Slowly, he was lead to Helena's room. His eyes lowered, his hands rubbed your stomach one last time and looked at you.
In ways, he knew you weren't real. You weren't real, but he hoped to at least find someone who reminded him of you. "I love you." He whispered softly. You held his hand tightly without responding. Leon looked at the door. He felt a stab against his chest, his knees gave out underneath him and you felt him. His heart was stabbed by something he didn't even see. His hands clawed against his chest in the attempts of clawing it out.
You cupped his face lovingly, holding him- tightly... Leon touched your face back.
Leon gasped for air, his eyes darted around trying to figure out where he was until he felt Helena's hands on his chest. "Leon," Despite them barely knowing each other, she hugged him tightly, "I thought I lost you." She muttered weakly. Leon noticed the needle of adrenaline on his thigh. He slowly pulled it out and carefully pushed Helena away from him.
"Let's go." Leon muttered weakly. He needed to be a stupid hero again.
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1800titz · 8 months
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18+
potteryinstructor!Harry who has bulging arms covered in ink, and a fun little, red-tinted pearl earring dangling from one ear, and dried clay over his lengthy fingers all the way up to his forearms.
He owns the unit below his apartment, but instead of a restaurant or a bar the staircase from his front door leads down to a pottery shop. It’s tucked away in a busy plaza downtown and when he washes his hands in one of those big utility sinks in the back the muck rinses away to reveal red polish decorating his nails.
The first time Y/N meets him she’s just wandered into the store alone — it’s empty of people and quiet besides the soft notes of RÜFÜS DU SOL leaking from the overhead speakers. She roams beside the line of wheels to admire the variety of little statues adorning the shelving, some obviously crafted with expertise and elegant artistry, and some lopsided efforts that probably deserve one of those meme you trieded stickers. She’s just about to head out, but then a very, very — ludicrously, practically — handsome man steps out from some room in the back, bi’s and tri’s working with rigid muscle as he wipes his hands off into a navy little rag. His skin is tanned and clean but streaks of dry clay still coat his white graphic tee. The gray staining on white feels sort of like a sin, but something about his nonchalant nature in the way that he regards her gives her the impression that he doesn’t really give a fuck.
potteryinstructor!Harry who convinces Y/N to hop on the wheel for a lesson because he's bored, and she's pretty, and no one's come in for the last two hours, and he's just been messing with clay. Who tells her, “Take your bracelet off for me,” in this totally innocuous manner, solely to preserve the condition of her jewelry, but the way he tacks on the for me in combination with his sexy, sexy, sexy demeanor has this warmth blooming in Y/N’s chest.
potteryinstructor!Harry whose jade irises bounce from the lump of clay as he cups over her palms with his own warm grip and works it into a shapely cylinder to her own concentrated expression.
potteryinstructor!Harry who manspreads on the little stool across from her and explains the different stages of pottery making, who laughs softly when he stands up and turns away for a second and the cylinder Y/N’s cradled starts to wobble and collapse, who helps her by pressing his much larger hands back over her own and sculpting it back up into something more even.
potteryinstructor!Harry who makes charismatic small talk — who the fuck can manage to make small talk charismatic? — cheek propped in his hand behind the counter as he watches her shape the clay.
potteryinstructor!Harry who doesn’t disrupt Y/N’s work as she carves swirls into the clay after its torched despite the fact that the shop has been closed for half an hour.
potteryinstructor!Harry who does great work with his hands on a wheel and possibly even greater work with his fingertips roaming between her sticky thighs. Who sinks the digits into her and thumbs over her clit. Who licks a stripe from the outer border of her collarbone all the way to her ear, nipping back down over her jugular.
potteryinstructor!Harry who bends her in half and grapples over the back of her left hip with his right hand as he tucks his cock into her, whose red-lacquered fingertips scratch at her scalp when he bunches her hair, when he tugs on it as he twists her head to the side to share a sloppy, open mouthed kiss, licking into her mouth. Who switches positions and sits back in a chair and coaxes her until she’s leant back with her palms propped over the sturdy muscles of his thighs, who cradles over her throat with ring-covered digits and seemingly effortlessly ruts up into her, brows pinched and strawberry mouth parted in ecstasy.
potteryinstructor!Harry, potteryinstructor!Harry, potteryinstructor!Harry.
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