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#he was telling me there’s no difference
dyaz-stories · 2 days
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JUJUTSU BOYS + PDA
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how the jjk boys are when you're in public with them
including: gojo, nanami, choso, yuuji, megumi, maki
word count: 3.6k (500-600 words for one character)
cw: intended as canon compliant, established relationships, fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, kissing, public demonstrations of affection, can't think of anything else tbh
a/n: been reading some fics in this format so wanted to try my hand at it again. it's been years since I wrote short pieces like that, so I hope you'll enjoy them!
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GOJO
Gojo has no concept of personal space, and that is something you had to get used to since you started dating — if anything, since before you started dating. Even when the two of you were at a more flirtatious stage, he’d always be leaning towards you to talk to you, face inches away from yours, hands on your hips if he needed to move past you, arm casually around you if you were sitting next to each other. It was all the better if it flustered you.
None of this has changed, except that he’s much more extra about it now. Holding your hand while walking? Nah, that’s boring. He’ll have his arm around your shoulders, even if it’s not convenient given the height difference. He’ll also try to put his hand in the back pocket of your jeans, pout if you tell him not to do it. If you’re waiting in line with him, he has both of his arms around you, is resting his chin on top of your head, and wants nothing more than for you to lean back into his chest, relaxing into his embrace. You can both be doing totally unrelated things — you’re reading and he’s checking his phone — but you’re slotted against each other, and that’s how it is ideally for you.
You’re waiting for him to show up to your date when you feel yourself surrounded by familiar arms, and then his cheek is pressing against yours as he surveys the book you’re holding in your hands.
“Whatch’ya reading?” he asks, breath warm against your cheek.
“Just doing some research on emerging curses,” you say with a shrug as you close it and put it in your bag. “So, did you want to check out that new bakery?”
He hums in reply, and you wait for him to move so you can start walking.
He doesn’t.
“…do you plan on letting go of me?” you ask after a while, turning your head to look at him.
He pouts at you, inches away from your face.
“I haven’t even gotten a kiss yet…”
“We’re in public, Satoru,” you say, feeling your face heating up.
“So? Let ‘em stare. They might as well, if you ask me.”
You want to roll your eyes — one day, you’ll have to talk about that exhibitionist streak of his — but in the meantime, you just have to crane your neck a little to peck his lips. They’re soft, as always, and he follows greedily when you pull away, his hand coming up to tilt your chin up gently as he presses more kisses on the corner of your lips, then on your cheek.
“You’re impossible,” you say, badly hiding your laughter. “Let’s go, or we won’t make it to closing time. You’re late, by the way.”
He lets out a heartbroken sigh, but finally frees you, keeping his arm around your shoulders as the two of you start walking towards the bakery. He keeps his strides short, so you don’t have to run to keep up with him, instead allowing you to keep a comfortable pace.
“Yeah, well, what can I say? I’m just too good at my job, they can never get enough of me.”
“Aw, poor darling,” you say. You grab his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and bring it to your lips to press a kiss on the back.
He lets out a cough that doesn’t do much to disguise the fact that he’s getting flustered, and you grin, satisfied. Two can play that game.
Fortunately, neither Satoru nor you have any intention of forfeiting any time soon.
NANAMI
Nanami is a private man. There is no reason for the whole world to know his business, and he doesn’t feel the need to put his relationship on display for everyone to see. His softness for you is still plain to see in how gentle his voice gets when he speaks to you, in how carefully he chooses his words, in how fond his eyes are when he listens to you tell him about your day. He knows you like him holding your hand, though, so he’ll indulge you, especially when you’re walking by his side through crowded streets.
That is for practical reasons, of course. First, it just wouldn’t do to lose sight of you. Second, people tend to steer clear of him, his serious expression and his broad frame, and that means they realize quickly to steer clear of you. It has nothing to do with how soft your hand is in his, or how the way you use your thumb to stroke his skin sends shivers down his back.
“That’s a lovely restaurant,” you comment, eyes drinking in the elegant decor while Nanami is examining the menu.
“It had excellent reviews,” he answers, not going into details as to the great lengths he’d gone to in order to ensure that this date was as perfect as humanly possible.
“I’ve been in the neighborhood so many times, and I had no idea this was here,” you say. The place is very small, only a handful of tables, all of them now filled. You’re sharing an alcove with Nanami, creating some distance with other customers.
“There aren’t many tables available, so they don’t advertise much,” he explains as he sets the menu down. “But they’re known for their excellent cuisine.”
You give him a smile, then lean closer to him to kiss him on the cheek. Your lips linger just a little too long, and then you move them close to his ear, which is already turning quite red.
“Thank you for planning all that,” you say sweetly. “It looks wonderful.”
He clears his throat when you pull away, avoiding your eyes.
“Of course,” he answers, voice wavering imperceptibly. “Anything for you.”
And you know he means it, too.
Under the table, his hand finds your leg, large palm easily covering your knee while calloused fingers carefully rub your calf. You bite your lip, welcome the warmth that spreads in your body. You know Kento well enough to be sure that that’s as far as he’ll go, that he wouldn’t dare to do anything more in such a public setting, and that makes you enjoy the intimacy of the gesture all the more.
Later that night, while the two of you are walking out, his jacket is around your shoulder at his insistence — “It’s cold outside” — and he’s getting ready to call a taxi.
“Kento?”
He lowers the phone to look at you, and you push yourself on your tiptoe, hand closing around his tie to pull him down towards you.
It’s late at night, he tells himself. There’s no one around, he tells himself. That’s why he closes his eyes and allows himself to melt into the kiss, regretting it when you pull away too soon and catching himself before he grabs you by the hips to get you closer to him.
“I had a great evening,” you say. “Should we take this to somewhere more private?”
How much more merciless can you get?
“Certainly,” he says. “Just give me a second.”
There is nothing he can deny you.
CHOSO
Choso cannot wrap his head around what he can and cannot do around you. The rules for what is proper, what is acceptable, have shifted so much since he was last around, and he would die before he embarrassed you — or worse, before he did something that would make you push him away. He knows that you wouldn’t, and yet the fear is like a weight that tugs on his heart every time he thinks about it. He walks by your side, glancing at your hand that’s freely hanging between the two of you, and though he brushes his knuckles against yours, he just cannot bring himself to do it. It’s to the point where it’s the only thing he’s thinking about — and he just can’t do it.
Then you see something that catches your eye and you grab his hand and pull him with you in that direction, and he thinks his heart could just fall out of his chest. You make it look so easy, so natural, being with him coming as easy to you as breathing, and he couldn’t possibly ask for more. It takes him many other tries, many other dates, before he can take your hand in his. When he does, you glance down in surprise, then grin at him, and kiss his knuckles softly — and he’s so happy he could die.
“So,” you say, sitting on the park bench, knee pressed against his while you’re leaning into him to show him your phone, your hair tickling his neck, “that’s the movies they have on tonight. Think we should call Yuuji to ask him what to watch?”
“Hm,” Choso says, not really focusing on anything you’re talking about, not when you’re this close to him, “isn’t— isn’t that the one franchise he’s always talking about?”
You burst out laughing, then rest your head on his shoulder.
“No offense, babe, but there is no one in the world I’d go see a Human Earthworm movie for. Even if this one is supposed to have romance in it,” you shudder at the thought, “I’d like to go see something actually. You know. Watchable.”
Choso’s mind is going in overdrive. You’re so close, and he knows he should have gotten used to this by now. He isn’t usually like this, but some passers-by are looking — not necessarily being judgmental, though there was an old lady earlier who scoffed and shook her head, but… looking.
“Then I don’t know if Yuuji is going to be much help,” he manages to say as you keep scrolling on the cinema’s website.
“That’s fair,” you sigh, standing up from the bench, and even if he can now think again, he misses your warmth and your smell right away. “Well, maybe we drop the movie and just go get something to eat, what do you say?
“Sounds good,” he answers, standing up after you.
Hesitantly, almost clumsily, he reaches for your hand, fingertips brushing against your thigh as he does, then tightens his grip around your palm, ensuring that it wouldn’t slip away from you. You give him a fond smile, then take a step to get closer to him, and kiss him gently. His breath hitches, and his eyes dart around the mostly empty park.
“T-there’s people around,” he says quietly, and he hates that you step back to look around.
“Oh, sorry,” you say, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable—”
He takes your hand to pull you with him, and you follow him through the grass as he finds a more secluded spot, behind a tree.
“There,” he says, and you chuckle at how satisfied with himself he sounds.
“Oh Choso,” you coo, leaning against the tree while you grab his shirt to pull him down towards you. His mouth is warm, eager, and his cheeks remain a fierce shade of red as he kisses you back insistently.
You would have missed the beginning of the movie anyway.
YUUJI
The thing about Yuuji is that any type of public demonstration of affection feels so natural coming from him. It’s almost never meant to be suggestive, it’s not something he thinks through, it’s just something he does. You’ll be sitting with Nobara when he appears, and he just puts his arm around you while talking to her, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. You’re walking with him when he lifts his head up like he’s forgotten something, and what he forgot was to hold your hand, silly him.
If you walk by him while he’s sitting, he’ll grab your hips to pull you in his laps, fingers rubbing circles on the skin of your arms, absent-mindedly playing with your fingers as he holds your hand. After all, why wouldn’t he? He doesn’t even realize that it flusters you, and it just feels so natural for him to show his affection like that. He’ll look at you with stars in his eyes while you speak, not seeming to realize that his face is so close to him while you’re sitting in his lap.
No one pays attention to it anymore. You arrive just as Nobara is starting the movie — she’s putting on an action movie, thank you very much, even if Gojo just bought the collector edition of Human Earthworm 4 for Yuuji, with the director’s cut — and with all the students crammed in the room, including Panda, who’s taking most of the space on the couch, there’s nowhere left for you to sit.
“Come here,” Yuuji says cheerfully, waving you towards the armchair where he’s found his spot, “it’s about to start.”
You glance around the room for a reaction, but no one is paying you any mind. You walk over to him, perching yourself on one of the arms, legs over his. He doesn’t seem puzzled by it, just puts an arm around your waist casually.
Of course, you end up still sitting in his lap eventually, just slipping in it at some point in the movie. Can you be blamed? He’s warm and comfortable, and he wraps both arms around you so he can tuck his chin in the crook of your shoulder, nose brushing against your cheek when he turns his head. Not that he seems to notice how it makes your pulse quickens, eyes focused on the movie.
“What are the themes even supposed to be,” he mutters under his breath, eyebrows knitting together in annoyance.
“’Military good’?” you suggest quietly as a guy gets blown up on screen.
“The first half of the movie was about military bad,” he protests. “They can’t just act like that never existed.”
“Would you two shut up,” Nobara shouts from her spot, “or Maki will come beat you up!”
The two of you pipe down, knowing the threat is very serious and not one to take lightly.
When the movie ends, everyone gets up, stretching, but you’ve gotten comfortable against Yuuji’s chest, and you don’t feel like doing that just yet.
“That was terrible,” Yuuji comments, and you let out a brief laugh. Gojo has somehow made a cinephile out of him, and you love how worked up he gets over that stuff.
“Yeah, we should have been watching Human Earthworm 4 instead,” you say.
“Exact— oh, you’re making fun of him.”
You giggle, then tilt your head to kiss him. For a second, he freezes, eyes going wide. Kissing is the one thing he rarely initiates — but when you do, you get to see his gaze soften, before his whole body goes soft. His hold on your waist tightens — and then a pillow thrown with impressive precision hits him, and only him, on the ear.
“Not in public,” Maki shouts from all the way into the kitchen.
“Hey,” your boyfriend protests, “I’m not the one who—”
“You’re such a traitor,” you gasp, struggling to pull yourself free from his arms — but it’s no use against his strength, and he refuses to let go.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he says. “Now, where were we?”
You might have been at fault for the first pillow, but that second one is all on him, as far as you’re concerned.
MEGUMI
Megumi is a private guy. He can be affectionate in public, but there is a side of him that he only wants you to see. He especially doesn’t want any of your nosy friends, or worse, his adoptive dad to see how he can be around you. They would never stop teasing him after, and he doesn’t think he could live with that.
Or that they could live with that. Because he’d kill them.
It does annoy him that he’s supposed to deny himself because of them. If it was up to him, he’d spend most of his time alone with you, preferably in a small house in the middle of a forest with no one around, no curses, no sorcerers, no nothing. That, sadly, isn’t an option though, so he has to find his own way to do things.
“Don’t move,” he says sternly. “You have something on your face.”
You roll your eyes, but tilt your head up towards him, as he carefully runs his thumb under your eye, then over your cheek, blowing on it once it’s done.
“What was it?” you ask.
“Just an eyelash,” he says with a shrug. “You’re good now.”
You study him, waiting for him to give something away, but he doesn’t, just staring at you with the same expression he always wears.
“Should we get going?” he asks. “I thought we were supposed to catch a movie.”
“Sure,” you relent. “We should get moving.”
The streets are quite full at this time of the day, and you have to step aside frequently to let people pass, sometimes losing sight of Megumi. Eventually, with a sigh, he grabs your hand, pulling you with him as he walks, sending murderous glares to anyone who stays in his path.
“You’re going to get lost at this rate,” he mutters as he pulls you with him.
“I mean, worst case scenario we meet back at the theater,” you say, and you grin at the offended look he gives you. He notices it, but doesn’t answer, a light pink dusting his cheek as he glances away.
He hates the idea of being away from you on a day that’s supposed to be about the two of you — but since he refuses to say the quiet part out loud, you get to tease him all you want.
To be fair to him, having Megumi as your scary guard dog does make it much easier and much faster to reach the theater. He gives you a pointed look when you get there, and, to your regret, lets go of your hand quickly, though his touch lingers there a second longer than necessary.
“Should we get a couple seat?” you ask innocently as you approach the register.
Megumi glares at you once more while you give him a sweet smile.
“It’s better that way, right?” he says, clearing his throat. “Otherwise strangers might have to share one.”
“Sure,” you nod, not even bothering to hide your grin. “It’s just more practical, right?”
“Right,” he says stiffly.
Even once you are in the couple seat, he keeps a thoroughly appropriate distance from you, one that you might find a little hurtful if, at the end of the commercials, he didn’t fake a yawn to put his arm around you, in the least smooth way known to man.
“You know you can just do it,” you say quietly as the lights turn off, resting your head on his shoulder. “You don’t have to go through all that.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbles.
Reaching for his face, you tilt his head towards you, and push yourself to meet his lips for a sweet, soft kiss. For the first time since you’ve stepped foot outside, his whole body relaxes into yours, and he stops trying to pretend.
“You had something on your lips,” you whisper when you pull away.
He snorts, then quickly goes back in to steal one more kiss from you before the movie starts.
“Liar,” he says.
As if he’s one to talk.
MAKI
Maki isn’t a demonstrative person as a general rule. She does compliment you without hesitation, words falling from her mouth so genuinely that it never fails to fluster you, but physical demonstrations of affection don’t come easy to her, maybe because she received so little of it as a kid. She does it sporadically, and she does very much enjoy teasing you, loves knowing that she can get those reactions out of you.
It’s the more spontaneous gestures that get to you though. She’ll kiss your forehead after a battle that left you bruised, a way of comforting you. She’ll pat your head after you managed to pull an impressive move during training. On one occasion, when you got injured, she carried you in your arms to Shoko, demanding that you be taken care of right this instant. She’d been the one to get flustered after that, hiding her face in her hand in embarrassment when it was brought up later on.
It might not come easy to her, but she does love it when you do it — when you show her your love in that way.
“You’re late,” she scolds you when you reach her for one of your dates, needing to take a second to catch your breath because you’ve been running since getting out of the subway.
“Sorry,” you say between deep breaths, “there was an emergency.”
Worry flashes on her face immediately.
“A curse? Were you hurt?”
She reaches for you, tilting your face towards her as she examines it, then study your body to make sure you weren’t injured. You let her, surprised at first, then endeared.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she frowns once she realizes how soft your gaze has become.
You grin, then push yourself closer to kiss her. You don’t care that you’re in public, and though it wouldn’t have occurred to her to do it, neither does she. The kiss is sweet, gentle. I’m alive, you’re alive, it says. No need for more.
“See?” you ask cheerfully. “All good. Now, I’m pretty sure you were going to buy me dinner…”
She clicks her tongue, but she’s grinning. It’s nice to see her so at ease, so relaxed. It’s a side of her you’d never see within the walls of Jujutsu High, nor on a mission. You’re the only one that can bring it out of her, and man do you love it.
“I’m buying? Again?”
“I did almost just die.”
“Nice try, but you told me you were fine.”
“I’m fine now,” you insist, “but…”
“Well, I was disowned by my family, so I don’t have money. You’re buying.”
The two of you keep bickering, but, as you walk, you reach for her hand. She pulls away at first, years and years of reflexes kicking in instinctively, and once she realizes what you were doing, she’s the one who takes your hand in hers. She holds it delicately, careful not to break it — to be fair, her strength would probably allow her that.
It’s so sweet and light, being out there with you like that. So normal. She hopes it never ends.
You squeeze her hand, and she lets you guide her across the street, content with just following, knowing that she can trust you to fill in her shortcomings in the relationship, like she does it for yours.
The sky is grey, the forecast said it might run later tonight — Maki’s planned an umbrella, she’s sure you didn’t think of it — but as far as she’s concerned, the day is as beautiful as it could possibly be.
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this is my first time writing for... pretty much everyone here except gojo lol. i hope you enjoyed it and that the characterization wasn't too off, but any feedback is welcome! if you want to support me and my writing, please reblog/leave a comment or send me an ask, i'd love to chat! i'll see you later for some more jjk writing ^-^
you can find my gojo x reader work here
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dannnnnny666 · 2 days
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Day 12: Time Travel
“Sooooo Phantom, do ya have any siblings?” Kid Flash asked as he tried to make small talk with the newest recruit to the team.
A few days ago, Young Justice was called to a meeting by Batman where he introduced their new team mate, Phantom. Phantom was a tough looking dude, he was jacked and towered over them all, even Conner!
Batman didn’t give them much information about the guy but apparently John Constentine was the one who suggested him for the team since he needed “community service hours”.
The dude was currently drinking some soda next to the computer as Red Robin searched for any new info on their latest mission. He turned his attention away from the can, and stared at Wally, his red eyes piercing into his soul.
“Why?” 
“Well we are all about to go on a mission together and none of us really know you so I think it’d be best if we all got to know you better,” that was half true. Mostly Wally was just being nosey, but the dude really did make everyone nervous since he was this really tough dude with blood red eyes and apparently was here because John Constentine said he needed community service hours???? Constentine typically say some wild shit, but what the fuck do you mean by community service? Wally knows you can’t use those for school, he’s tried, and what else gave you community service? Juvie and prison!!
Phantom stared at him hard for a few seconds, his eyes searing into the back of Wally’s skull before saying, “Okay fine”.
The answer surprised everyone in the room, I mean the guy had barely even spoken the last few days and had rejected every question about his personal life.
“Depending on how you see it, I have 2 to 4 siblings”
“Is your father a serial adopter too?” Tim joked.
“Yes and no”
“Huh?” 
“It’s pretty complicated,” Phantom shrugged, seemingly deciding to end the conversation there and taking another swig of his drink.
However, Tim, out of annoyances of every attempt to get to know this jerk being thwarted and a bit of confidence his family was more complicated, decided to challenge Phantom’s statement.
“Ehh, it probably isn’t as complicated as my family, we got about 50 more siblings adopted each month, all with lots much trauma”
At this, Phantom narrowed his eyes at Tim.
“I see what your doing, your trying to get me to talk tell you guy more about my family by acting like yours are more insane”
“Am I?” Tim asked, trying to hide the shivers going down his spine from the way Phantom was staring at him.
Phantom to a huge swig of his soda, emptying it and throwing it into the garbage, before fully turning to Tim.  
“You’re lucky I am always good for competitions, now sit down this is going to take a bit”
Tim gladly obliged and soon everyone sat around Phantom as if it were storytime in kindergarten.
“Okay, so at first I only had an older sister and my parents” Phantom began, “but then they died because of a mistake I made and I had to move in with my evil godfather”
Megan raised her hand and asked, “Isn’t a godfather someone who is very close to the family? Why would your parents choose an evil person?”
“‘Cause my dad was oblivious to this and though they were good friends even though the dudes tried to kill him multiple times”
“I see,” Megan lowered her hand, no less confused.
“There I went mad with grief and had him remove my humanity and tried to kill all of humanity”
“I think that was a bit of an overreaction,” Wally joked.
“You tried to kill all of humanity? Why weren’t we told of this when it happened?” Kaldur'ahm asked.
“That was in a different timeline, I was a big enough problem that they gods tried to kill the younger version of me to stop me, so to avoid dying, my younger version decide to try to defeat me and the only reason he did was cause I was underestimating him,” Phantom emphasized the last part because he had to stress he didn’t not lose to a 15 year old boy because he was weaker than him.
“What happened next?,” Artemis asked, completely inraptured in the story.
“I was then imprisoned for sometime before escaping, causing problems and then realizing that causing younger mean the same pain I experienced won't bring my loved ones back,” Phantom continued to explain, “so I am now going to therapy, doing community service, and got the majority of my powers taken away”.
“Is your therapist open to seeing new patients?” Konner asked.
“No, but this timelines version of my sister is and she has a lot of experience so I can give you her number instead”
“Sure, that’ll work”
“Okay,” Phantom said before writing her number down and handing it to Konner, “The thing is I can’t go back to living with my real parents because they don’t know that I am Phantom so I have to go back to living this timelines version of my godfather”
“You gotta be kidding me” Tim groans.
“Exactly what I said!!” Phantom put his arm up defensively, “Fortunately, this version is a little better, he is no longer tiring to kill my dad and has stopped chasing after my mom, he did clone the other of me and now there is a genderbent version of him but my godfather treats her like a princess and will not stop spoiling her, which I am also guilty of”
Phantoms continues to explain more and in the back of Tim's mind he remembers he was supposed to be doing something but honestly this conversation was too good to care.
“Anyways that's how I technically have 2 to 4 siblings, Jazz and Elle are permanently my sisters and I love them so much, and even though the other Jazz is technically the same as this Jazz, I still think of her as someone else, someone I miss dearly. Also if I considered this Jazz my sister, I guess I’d have to considered the other me as my brother”
“Damn bitch your family is crazy” Wally said, happy he finally managed to get through Phantom’s tough skin.
As they finished up their storytime, the Zeta-tubes activated and Red Tornado and an upset looking Batman walked to the group.
“You all were supposed to leave thirty minutes ago”
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remi-thirsts · 1 day
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𝐅𝐀𝐕 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍?
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pairing: gojo, geto, choso, and toji x fem!reader (separate) summary: celeb!au where the boys are interviewed and asked a pretty personal question ! (I took nanami out bc I don't think he would want to share your business with the world) content: kinda suggestive, established relationships, allusions to sexual themes, mentions of dacryphyilia in toji's, pet names, cursing, celebrity!au (model, singer, actor, etc) wc: 1.4k
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♡ 𝐒. 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
"Yes, yes! Thank you for joining us today, Gojo-san. All of your fans are excited to see you play the new lead role in this upcoming movie!" For the past hour Gojo has been answering questions many of his fans have with an interviewer who has gathered some of the most asked questions.
"Next question!" The women exclaims excitedly, when she reads the card she pauses in shock, "Um.. who put this card in there...?" Now the white haired actor was curious.
"Well, what does it say? I'm sure it can't be that bad." His cocky attitude is showing, but a huge percentage of his fans like when he's like this. It makes fantasizing him all the more creative and exciting; or so you hear.
"Uh...uh. Um-" She remembers the camera is rolling, and this is live TV. "Many fans know you have a girlfriend and a lot of them want to ask,
"What is your favorite position?"
Gojo knew his PR team would probably get on his ass for answering this question instead of moving on to a different one but he doesn't care- at all.
"This is a tough one... hm. I guess if I had to choose I'd say cowgirl. I love the way she rides," he pauses for a second before continuing with excitement, "She's hella good at it too! Every time I watch her bounce on it my eyes about roll to the back of my-"
"OKAY. Thank you, Mr. Gojo!" She interrupts, quickly turning to the camera with a very forced smile.
"There you have it! We'll be back after a brief commercial break!"
♡ 𝐒. 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎
Your boyfriend, Suguru, started a podcast about his music life with his band mates two years ago. Since his group already had quite a huge fan base, it was no surprise they took to their podcast with excitement.
Usually the group would talk about funny backstage stories or moments where their performances were almost ruined. Today they're doing a Q&A, the questions that are most asked will be answered first, while less popular questions will be answered later.
"Oh shit, people wanna know Suguru." He quirks an eyebrow, the raven haired male leans his mic towards his lips so the people can hear his voice.
"Know what?" A sly smirk forms on his face because he knows there could be at least a million things 'the people wanna know.'
"They wanna know what's your favorite position to have your girl in." The lead singer snickers whilst asking the question. Suguru clicks his tongue and taps on the desk a few times.
"I really like to have her legs behind her head cuz I can reach really deep that way."
"Sooo, mating press?" Their lead singer is just as nosy as their fans so of course he's gonna press on.
"Hell yeah, man." Some of them clap and others laugh at Suguru's openness.
-----
You were really busy but you decided to tune into your boyfriend's podcast after a bunch of people tagged you on twitter to go listen to today's episode.
When you hear Suguru tell all 2 million of his podcast listeners what position he likes to fuck you in, you scream into your pillow and turn into a giggling mess.
He never knows how to keep his mouth shut, and you love it.
♡ 𝐂. 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎
You're laying on your boyfriend's bed listening to him play his game. Choso's a big time streamer at this point. Four years ago when he started his fan base was quite small and he just enjoyed the few who would join his gaming streams. Now, Choso streams as work and he still loves it just as much as he had long ago.
"Thank you for the tip 'prettyem0b0y22'," Usually Choso reads aloud whatever message they leave with their tips but he hesitates this time.
"Uh- you don't really expect me to answer that, right? She's laying on the bed right now."
That statement immediately grabs your attention, you glance at his monitor screens, trying to get a peek at whatever his fan was asking of him.
It seems plenty of others want to know the answer to this question too because the chat starts speeding up, meaning that they're spamming.
"Guys come on, I'll turn chat off if you guys don't stop." Choso is as scary as a cute little kitten, so they just keep at it, and now you're curious too. What could possibly be that bad that he didn't want to answer it and to be fair he has answered some pretty crazy questions before.
"Indulge me Cho, what did 'prettyem0b0y22' wanna know?" His head swings so fast he could have gotten whiplash from it. His cheeks are burning pink and his brows furrow in confusion.
"I promise it wasn't anything crazy, don't worry about it." Oh, you're worrying about it alright. His strange behavior prompts you to spring up off the bed and walk your way over to his desk.
Instead of just taking a quick look at the chat, you make yourself comfortable in your boyfriend's lap. Obviously the chat goes absolutely crazy when they see you make this gesture. Choso is no doubt embarrassed but he slings an arm around your waist anyway.
"So what was the question he couldn't answer in front of me?" Prettyem0b0y22 wastes no time sending another hefty tip.
"I asked him what's his fav postion with you." When you read the whole thing aloud some giggles leave your lips.
"He likes when I ride him while facing him. For what reason? He's a titty man." Choso gasps as you expose both of you. The risks are high, anyone, literally anyone could see this clip and think something about you, but you don't care. It's your body and his, people don't have power over how you two interact with each other.
The chat explodes with all kinds of things, most are shocked emojis, while others are spamming the cherry emoji. Luckily, Choso's moderator team puts slow chat on and does a few other precautions to settle the situation.
"Baby- I- what if your family sees this? Or worse your boss?!" His concern is absolutely adorable.
"Well I guess I'd have to start a streaming channel of my own?" Everyone in his chat is totally on board with that idea. They've seen you play for Choso before and they think your commentary on games is quite funny.
"I don't want you to lose your job though." This time he whines in pure worry.
"I won't, baby. It'll be alright. Don't overthink it."
♡ 𝐓. 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
Toji's got what people want to see in model catalogs and magazines. The slutty waist, the well defined but not too defined muscles, his beautiful eyes and long lashes. Toji is a picture perfect model, which is what landed him his modeling gig and even a whole career a few years later.
A journalist, who's particularly interested in his dating life more than his modeling career asks him a bunch of dating related questions.
Some have speculated that Toji was dating, but he neither confirmed nor denied those allegations. You and Toji agreed to keep your relationship on the down low, because having a bunch of strangers in your personal business was not desirable.
The journalist woman words the questions in a way of inference.
"Assuming you had a girlfriend, Fushiguro-sama. What would your favorite position in bed be?" At first Toji groans but then when he registers the question he decides he'll answer it hypothetically when in reality it is something he likes to do with you.
"Hypothetically speaking, if I had a girlfriend my favorite position with her would be missionary, because I'd want to look at her pretty face when she's cryin' on my cock." The journalist writes that down, Toji knows everything he says will be censored but the people will still be able to figure it out.
"Missionary, really? Many people online have guessed you were a doggy-style kind of guy. Based off of your twitter statement that said and I quote 'Love it when her ass is phat. Love squeezing that thing.' End quote"
Toji lets out a deep laugh before answering the woman, "Doggy-style is for people I don't care about, people I don't want to look at, my girl- if I had a girl, she wouldn't be just any fuck."
More theories start to surface after Toji's slip up of words, and that's okay, because they don't know you and you don't know them.
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divider: @/plutism
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euthymiya · 3 days
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society of brilliance ft. veritas ratio
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in which you come home and soothe veritas and his insecurities in a shared bath—which consists of you making a society just for the two of you. luckily, it’s more than enough to ease his troubled mind
contains: gender neutral reader ; non sexual nudity ; shared baths ; slight references to veritas character story iii ; reverse comfort ; veritas is not taking his lack of invitation to genius society lightly :( ; i invite you all to join my nous hate club
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veritas doesn’t greet you when you come home. you’d be disappointed any other time, but the glow of light under the cracks through the bathroom door tells you precisely why he’s not there to greet you—you can’t help but be endeared.
so you pad into the bathroom, grinning softly as his head lifts from resting against the edge of the bathtub, eyes opening to glance over your figure.
they brighten a bit when they take in the view of you.
“no book?” you raise a brow, mildly shocked.
“is it hard to believe i’d like to relax without reading?” he closes his eyes again, relaxing once more as he listens to you shed your clothing.
“well, i suppose not,” you chuckle, “but you’re a bit…”
“go on,” he presses dryly, “finish your thought.”
“a bit uptight. i don’t know if you can relax without reading something or another.”
it’s cheeky, the way you bite your lip and suppress a grin, watching as he rolls his eyes (but he could never hope to hide the fondness in them, even if he tried). you reach over one the last of your clothes drop to the floor, hand cupping his cheek as he sighs and melts into your palm.
“well, i certainly won’t be relaxing now that your presence is here to disrupt my peace,” he quips, letting a smug grin of his own stretch over his cheeks as you huff.
“long day?” you murmur, tracing your thumb along his skin soothingly as he hums, pressing closer into your touch, “it must be if you couldn’t wait long enough to greet me.”
“my apologies darling,” he says quietly. you frown a little, tracing the darkening circles under his eyes as your thumb travels higher across his face. “i’m afraid my mind was a bit occupied.”
“oh veritas.”
it’s delicate, the way you say his name. fragile, like he’s one moment from sinking into the water from the weight of his mind, unable to resurface for a breath of air. veritas has been different since accepting the invitation from the ipc—a bit more defeated, perhaps. a lot more distracted.
you pull your hand away, much to his displeasure, waving it to gesture him forward in the tub as he looks at you with creases building in his forehead.
“but—”
“don’t argue for once, you difficult man,” you scold, “just do as i say.”
“how commanding,” comes his reply in a half-hearted scoff. he listens nonetheless, inching forward so you can sit yourself behind him, sinking into the warm water as you collect him in your arms and pull him to lean against your chest.
he relaxes instantly. more than he could before your arrival, like the presence of you makes breathing easier, more simple. in and out, inhale and exhale. his chest rises and falls under your hand, slow circles smoothing over the firm muscle as his head falls back against your shoulder.
veritas doesn’t let you hold him often—he prefers the weight of you in his arms, but sometimes it’s nice when you take on his weight, too. when his mind is heavy and loaded with the endless thoughts of his. and you like it too, the feeling of him pressing into you, the feeling of him settled into your hold as you keep him afloat.
you break the silence first, pressing a kiss into his head as you whisper, “care to enlighten me what’s going on in that head of yours?”
“are you sure you can handle it? i have a rather advanced thought process,” he teases.
“i’d say your mind is regressed,” you snort, squeezing the rubber duck floating in the water a small distance away.
you can practically see his pout even if it’s not in your line of sight as he clicks his teeth and says in an offended tone, “being intelligent doesn’t mean i have to deny myself of a few simple joys.”
“aren’t i the only joy you need?” you bat your lashes, kissing the back of his neck as he chuckles.
“i suppose you are sufficient enough, yes.”
“just sufficient?” you gasp, biting his shoulder playfully as he shakes against you with soft laughter. “if you don’t love me, just say that.”
“there you go again,” he hums in amusement, shaking his head as he tilts his head and eyes you with an endeared glint in his eyes, “always so theatric over the most trivial of causes.”
“someone has to keep things interesting. your idea of fun is picking apart a student’s thesis.”
“i enable them to grow,” he corrects, thoroughly unimpressed as he purses his lips and gives you a dry look. “it’s a favor, really.”
“i don’t know what to do with you. too smart for your own good.”
he sighs, slumping against your figure as he quietly mumbles, “perhaps not smart enough.”
you frown, the edges of your mouth curling in an unhappy twist downwards as you process his words. veritas is undoubtedly brilliant—you’d never thought he’d question the fact. of course, he’s tried time and time again to catch the gaze of nous, and of course, you’ve always known there’s a lingering air of self deprecation at his lack of success.
but you never thought him to doubt himself—not of his capabilities, not of his brilliance. his brilliance is the most beautiful thing about him, you think. he’s so quick to understand things—like how to figure you out like it’s easy and simple. how to love you in ways you didn’t even know you want to be loved. how to read you before you understand your own mind.
he’s so bright, so willing to share his light so you can glow too, unwilling to see you as a mere dimness beside him.
you tighten your arms around him, nuzzling your nose into his cheek as you press sweet, feathery kisses to his skin.
“if you consider yourself not smart enough, i fear for what you think of my intelligence.”
“i think you’re brilliant,” he says instantly, “there’s no doubt.”
“then why doubt yourself?”
he’s silent. you know the answer, even if he doesn’t want to say it. because if not smart enough to be acknowledged by the aeon he’s dedicated his aspirations to, the aeon that stands to represent the very purpose of his existence, the aeon that signifies the embodiment of wisdom itself—how can he consider himself enough?
how can you consider him enough? he wants to ask, but the words never form on his tongue, caught in his throat in a lump he can’t even swallow down. it’s stuck, persistently lodged and silencing him as he lays limply in your arms.
“oh, veritas,” you say with so much gentleness, he sighs shakily at the sound of his name from your tongue. so sweet, so pleasant—like it’s dipped his honey from the comb. “you are far too capable for it to be a cause for question.”
“am i?” he chuckles dryly, lips tugging ruefully into a painful smile, “perhaps i’d have reached my goals then, wouldn’t i?”
“perhaps it’s not your intelligence that separates you from the genius society,” you murmur thoughtfully, combing wet fingers through his hair, scratching tenderly at his scalp as he shivers at your touch.
“then, pray tell, what would it be, darling?” he asks, indulging you.
“your compassion, maybe. you’re of the few geniuses that don’t forget what it means to be human. i don’t think a machine declared as the face of intelligence has the capacity to understand that.”
“you shouldn’t speak of the divine like that,” he snorts.
“nobody is as divine as me,” you reply with a giggle, earning a tender squeeze at your thigh as he smiles at you with a roll of his eyes.
“is that so?”
“you don’t agree?”
he turns, kissing the pout off of your lips as he whispers, “oh, i do. i certainly do—you’re of the most divinest of beings in all of the cosmos. a truly magnificent…piece of work.”
“i’ll ignore that last part just for today,” you say pointedly. you peck his lips again, and again, and when he settles deeper into your chest, relaxing against your body, you tighten your hold around him. “but i hereby declare you an honorary member of the society of brilliance—”
he cuts you off with a short. you whine, slapping his arm in protest as he stifles his laughs.
“and just how many members are in this society?”
“currently two,” you glare, “but it’s at risk of becoming one if you mock it any further. it’s a very serious organization.”
“sorry, sorry. it won’t happen again,” he poorly fights back a grin. (and he could never hope to successfully hide a smile around your presence, he’s sure such a feat is impossible. you write joy on his features as easy as pen on paper).
“it better not. this society is far more sophisticated than that child’s play of an organization…society for geniuses, was it?”
“genius society,” he correct, playing along.
“oh yes,” you nod, pretending to snap in recognition, “that’s the one. such an undignified group of individuals. a shame—they had potential. it’s a good thing we’re not like them.”
“a relief indeed,” he smiles.
it’s so raw, so real, so pure, he can’t help but twist in your arms and press his lips to you, hoping to physically share the joy of you evident in the curl of his mouth. the dimple in his cheek. the crinkles of his eyes.
you’ve written yourself into every part of him, so seamlessly intwined with his body and mind, it’s difficult to doubt himself. because to doubt himself is to doubt you, and veritas could never hope to doubt you. not when you’re so divine, so bright and beautiful, so precious.
a wonder to society.
he’s lucky to be acknowledged by such brilliance.
“you’re the most capable man i know,” you whisper against his lips. he hums in satisfaction as you peck them gently before adding, “i have very high standards, you know.”
“i’m relieved i’ve met them. my greatest achievement to date.”
“i’m glad you’re wise enough to realize as such.”
“is my spot in your exclusive society secured then?”
“hmm. i’ll think about it—you’re still on thin ice.”
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if nous has 0 haters im dead. anyway. veritas, i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you. did i mention i love you
let my man into genius society!!!! he belongs there more than anyone else!!!!! actually tbh he’s too good for that group of ppl (i say this but ruan mei is my gf sorry queen ur the exception)
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coolemmasulivan2 · 1 day
Text
It's Always You
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Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader
Summary: You and Lando share a mutual attraction, but you've kept things professional due to career implications. However, after his first win race, things may change, blurring the lines between friendship and something more.
Word count: 6013
Author's note: First time writing about Lando. I started writing this on the day of the Miami Sprint and then when he won the next day I told myself I would publish it. Tell me what you think.
It's you, it's always you Met a lot of people, but nobody feels like you So please don't break my heart, don't tear me apart
Miami heat wrapped around you like a steamy August day and even if American tracks weren't your thing, the paddock was definitely one of your favourites.
Working with McLaren since 2019 felt like winning the lottery. Travel, new faces, and a taste of different cultures – it was everything you dreamed of. Hospitality put you in the middle of it all – the team, the fans, even the families. Being young, you clicked quickly with the drivers: Carlos and Lando from the start, and Oscar when he joined.
Carlos was your rock, a protective older brother even after his move to Ferrari. Daniel was a blast, always making you laugh with his great sense of humor, and Oscar's calm personality mirrored yours. He became your trackside best friend, sharing everything over coffee and off-track adventures with his girlfriend, Lily.
Then there was Lando. Your relationship with Lando was different. Unlike Carlos, you saw him not as a brother, but as a friend... friends that had feelings for each other.
He was shy at first, stealing glances when you weren't looking. But time made his shyness disappear. Flirting became his game, playful touches here and there and unexpected hugs wherever he felt like it. You ignored the signs until his confession left you speechless in the middle of the night in Monaco.
"I have something I need to tell you." He said.
It was 2020. Monaco was hot that night. Everyone at the team dinner was buzzing about the upcoming classic Monaco Grand Prix. Like always, after the dinner, Lando offered to walk you back to the hotel where the team was staying – nothing new. You even joked about Carlos doing the same thing.
Like all the other times, you didn't think much about the gesture. It was something he used to do, and in your head, it was just a friend helping the other. After all, Carlos did it from time to time. Why should it be any different with Lando?
"What's up?" You asked, the streetlights shining on his face. "Getting nervous about the race? The car feels amazing, right?"
Lando messed with his hair. Your voice, normally like music to him, made him forget what to say. "Uh, no, not the race."
"Then what is it? Now I'm the one freaking out." You tried to lighten the mood with a laugh. "Did you lose your house key again? You're not staying with me."
He wished you'd just be quiet. "Fuck, Y/N!" He blurted out. "I like you." The words came out fast, just like his orange F1 car. Did you hear him right? When he saw the surprise on your face, he knew you had. "I, uh, I mean more than a friend." He stammered. "Like, a lot. You're always in my head, even in my dreams. All the fucking time. I can't even look at other girls because you're all I see. I just had to tell you. I couldn't keep it in any longer."
You suddenly froze, your heart pounding like a drum solo. Time seemed to slow down, with only the two of you and the warm glow of the streetlights as the real things around. You wanted to speak, but the words simply wouldn't come out.
"Please say something!" Lando begged, his voice shaky. "Anything! Even if you don't like me back, just tell me. But don't let this mess up our friendship!"
It didn't destroy your friendship, but it sent your world spinning. You realized your little crush on the driver was a full-blown fire, and with each passing year, the flames only licked higher. But every time Lando flirted, the same words you had said to him tumbled out: "It's inappropriate."
He hated those words. He'd always argue with you about it. "Come on, I like you and I know you like me too. I know it! Who cares about work? We can keep it quiet. It can be our secret." He always had a solution for every worry, but you remained strong.
You wanted to believe that you could remain strong.
The problem was, your feelings were turning into a rebellion. Keeping them bottled up was a losing battle, and you weren't sure how much longer you could resist the pressure from the driver.
Lando strutted into the paddock beside you, his black clothes and crisp white shirt doing nothing to hide his cocky grin. "Finally figured out why I haven't won a race yet." He announced, his cologne a heady wave in your direction.
You peeked over your sunglasses. "Oh yeah, Sherlock? What's the conclusion?"
He leaned close, his voice a low rumble. "No good luck kiss from you, that's what! Maybe we should fix that? Make it a tradition if it works."
A laugh escaped you. "So it's my fault, huh?"
"Exactly!" He grinned. "And if I lose again without a kiss, everyone's gonna hear about it."
"That's your best shot at flirting?" You teased. "Seriously, Lando, you're terrible."
A playful smirk tugged at his lips. He draped his arm around your shoulder, leading you towards the McLaren hospitality area. "The only girl I flirt with is you, love. Guess you'll have to show me how to improve."
Heat flooded your cheeks, betraying your fake indifference. Lando wasn't an idiot. He knew you felt the same way, a truth as clear as the Miami sunshine.
A booming voice shattered the playful tension. "Whoa there, puppet, keep your hands off of her!"
Carlos emerged behind you, clad in his new Ferrari blues. You turned to see him glaring at Lando, who simply scoffed and moved away, the arm around your shoulder replaced by Carlos's protective arm.
He leaned down, a quick peck on your head followed by a wink aimed at Lando, who rolled his eyes with a playful huff.
"Or what?" Lando challenged.
Carlos pretended to consider, then grinned. "Or I'll run you off the track at the race. And don't even think about getting jealous. It's a bad look on you."
Agree to disagree, you thought. Jealousy did look good on him. The way he tapped his foot impatiently, the way he chewed his lip with a focused intensity – those were the subtle giveaways that made your heart skip a beat.
"Leave him alone, Sainz!" You swatted playfully at Carlos' chest, the contact sending a blush blooming across your cheeks.
"Oh, look who's defending the love bird." He teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
You blushed once again. "Shut up." You whispered.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Lando fighting a smile as you continued towards McLaren hospitality. A quick goodbye to Carlos later, you disappeared inside, ready for your daily tasks. Lando watched you go, his gaze lingering long after you were out of sight.
When he finally turned back to his friend, Carlos was waiting, arms crossed, a knowing smirk plastered across his face. "What?"
"Ugh, the both of you." Carlos rolled his eyes. "All this mooning and staring, it's getting pathetic. Just take her out, will you?"
Lando sighed. "I've been trying for years. It's always 'inappropriate.'"
"Well, try harder!" Carlos pressed. "Last thing you need is someone else catching her eye."
Lando's playful demeanor vanished. "What do you mean?" He pressed, a sudden seriousness tightening his features. Carlos simply offered him a pat on the shoulder before walking away, leaving Lando with a gnawing sense of unease. "Hey, what do you mean?"
The sprint had been a disaster. It all ended so quickly that it didn't give him enough time to think, no chance to catch Max and the others at the front. To make matters worse, the Stewards imposed a heavy fine of €50,000 for crossing the track while the rave was still ongoing.
Later, back at the hotel, he was torn between feeling exhausted and frustrated. A cold shower did little to wash away the bitter taste of defeat. He pulled on fresh clothes and collapsed onto the bed. Closing his eyes, he focused on the tension leaving his body, hoping for a moment of peace.
A loud ringing sound shattered the silence and startled him out of his daze. He groaned as he searched for his phone, buried somewhere in the crumpled sheets.
Y/n: Hey, Oscar and I are planning to watch a movie and grab some food. Wanna join us? We're in my bedroom.
Lando smile, looking at your text.
Lando: You know I like you. You shouldn't tell me when you have other guys in your bedroom. It breaks my heart.
Although he couldn't see you, he was certain you were rolling your eyes after reading his message. 
Y/n: Shut up and get your ass here.
A laugh escaped Lando's lips as he pushed himself out of bed. He stalked over to the mirror, running a hand through his damp curls. With a flick of the switch, the room dropped into darkness, and Lando walked out of his room.
Your room was on a different floor, but soon a familiar knock came at your door. Your heart kicked into a familiar rapid-fire beat as you swung the door open.
"Hi!"
"Hey, beautiful." He cupped your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "Osc!" He jumped in your bed and in one smooth motion, he snagged a chip from the bowl you'd set on the nightstand.
"Hey. What do you feel like watching?" He quickly looked through your Netflix library, skipping over the typical romantic comedy options.
"Anything but that mushy stuff." Lando declared, earning a playful jab from you.
"Take your shoes off the bed, Lando!"
He chuckled, kicking off his sneakers. He leaned back against the headboard, his gaze lingering on you for a second too long. You were a black Simpsons shirt and matching sporty shorts, your bare feet resting comfortably on the cool sheets. A small anchor could be seen on your ankle, sparking his imagination about what other hidden treasures lay beneath your clothes.
The spell was broken by a knock on the door. With a quick smile, you ran toward the door, returning moments later with a stack of takeout boxes. 
You settled next to Lando on the bed, while Oscar sprawled out at the foot like a contented cat. With the Avengers movie playing softly in the background, you devoured your food, a comfortable silence settling around the three of you.
Two hours passed by quickly as the credits rolled. Oscar groaned and got off the bed. You mimicked his stretch, feeling the pleasant ache of a relaxed evening.
"Looks like someone's having a sleepover!" Oscar teased, pointing a playful finger at Lando. The driver was sprawled across your pillow, a peaceful look on his face.
A soft gasp escaped your lips. "Oh, Lando!" you whispered, torn between amusement and a flicker of panic. He looked undeniably adorable, a mess of soft curls framing his face. You glanced at Oscar, who was already pulling on his sneakers. "We have to wake him up, right?"
Oscar chuckled, a knowing glint in his eyes. "We? Seems pretty comfy to me, Y/N. Let the man enjoy his rest." He started towards the door, but you reached out.
"Wait, where are you going? He can't stay here." Panic bubbled in your chest. The thought of him sleeping in your bed sent shivers down your spine.
"So wake him up!"
Your cheeks flushed crimson. "I… I don't want to wake him." The words came out a soft mumble, barely audible.
Oscar leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Then don't. Trust me, asleep is the only state he'll stay put. Besides, wouldn't you rather wake up to a grateful cuddle buddy in the morning?"He winked, leaving you speechless, alone with the British driver.
Oh my god, you screamed to yourself.
You tiptoed around the room, unsure of your next move. Finally, drawn by a strange magnetism, you found yourself kneeling by the bed.
Lando's serene face was illuminated by the soft bedside lamp. His chest rose and fell gently in sleep, a single black curl escaping the gentle mess of his hair.
An irresistible urge to touch him washed over you. Without thinking about it, your fingers reached out, tentatively brushing against the perfect curl. As if sensing the intrusion, Lando stirred, and his brow furrowed slightly. You quickly retreated to the bathroom, heart pounding as you slammed the door carefully behind you.
Leaning against the door, you let out a shaky breath. You hurriedly changed into pyjamas, suddenly aware of how thin they felt compared to your day clothes. But it was hot, and you hadn't brought anything else.
Peeking through the crack in the door, you peeked out, praying for the best. Relief flooded you when you saw Lando, thankfully still asleep, but now facing the other side of the bed.
You were wondering if that little couch in the corner was worth sleeping on. It looked quite small and uninviting. Sleep on that uncomfortable excuse of furniture, or share the bed with Lando? The answer, realistically, was obvious. 
You climbed in, scooting over as far as possible to create a respectable amount of distance from the body next to you. Sleep, thankfully, came quickly. Maybe it was the exhaustion from the day, or perhaps the unexpected warmth and sense of security that came with having Lando beside you, but you drifted off faster than usual.
Sunlight, snuck into the room, painting stripes across Lando's face. He blinked, momentarily disoriented. Hadn't he closed those curtains last night? He sat up, surprise jolting through him as he realized he wasn't in his own bed.
Even more shocking was the sight beside him. You, cuddle against him, your thin pyjamas offering little to make him look away. One of your legs peeked out from under the discarded sheet, and Lando felt a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the morning sun.
What in the world? How had he ended up, tangled in your sheets? A quick glance around revealed his phone abandoned on the nightstand. It was still early, but Jon would be expecting him in his room soon. He needed to get out, get cleaned up and get ready for the day. But leaving felt like ripping himself away from something precious.
He stole a glance at you. Your face, relaxed and peaceful, was turned towards him. A stray strand of hair tickled your cheek. Hesitantly, he reached out, tucking it behind your ear.  The touch, light as a feather, was enough to stir you awake.
Lando didn't flinch and when you fluttered your eyes open, his face was inches away. A wave of yearning swept through you, a desire for more mornings waking up beside him.
"Did I die and go to heaven last night?" His voice, husky with sleep, sent shivers down your spine.
"You fell asleep." You admitted, your voice barely a whisper. "And I didn't have the heart to wake you up."
"Right." He breathed the word out, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. His hand reached out, cupping your cheek with a tenderness that both surprised and delighted you. A blush crept up your neck as he murmured, "Lucky me." Then, a sigh escaped his lips. "I have to go. Jon will be at my room any minute."
You nodded and smiled, despite the disappointment tugging at your heart. You watched as he hesitately rose, groaning at leaving your bed. His hair was a mess of adorable curls, and his rumpled clothes added a touch of vulnerability that made him look even more adorable.
He grabbed his phone and sneakers and then paused, a playful smirk on his face. "So, about that lucky kiss for good luck?" He teased, a hint of hope lacing his voice. "We already slept together!"
"Go!" You muttered.
"Fine, fine." He chuckled. "See you later, love."
He turned towards the door, and an impulsive urge surged through you. Before you could overthink it, you were out of bed and racing towards him. He reached for the doorknob, but you were faster, grabbing his arm and spinning him around.
For a moment, confusion clouded his features, but it quickly melted into surprise as you planted a kiss on his cheek. It was a chaste kiss, lingering just a beat too long to be considered entirely platonic. When you pulled away, his eyes held a mixture of shock and something deeper.
"There's your lucky kiss." You whispered, your voice barely above a breath. "Now go."
Lando stood speechless for a moment, the kiss still tingling on his skin. Then, a slow smile spread across his face "Today is a day full of opportunities." He declared.
With one last lingering look, he opened the door and disappeared into the hallway. You leaned against the wall, your heart pounding against your ribs.
You had never felt more nervous before in a race. At the start, it seemed like Oscar could give Verstappen a run for his money, but then the safety car came out and it felt like you were barely moving until the end of the race, with Lando being P1. It wasn't until the checkered flag waved that you finally exhaled, a shaky breath that escaped with a nervous laugh.
The McLaren hospitality buzzed with excitement. Lando had finally done it. His first F1 victory, a triumph long overdue. You joined the celebrations, a wide smile plastered across your face, not just for the team, but for Lando himself. It was a moment he deserved.
"Great race, Oscar!" You exclaimed as the Australian driver entered the hospitality area and hug you. "You had Red Bull sweating for a while there!"
He chuckled, pulling you into a brief hug. "Thanks, Y/N. I gave it my all, but the real winner tonight is Lando." He winked. "I'm sure your champion will be here any minute, looking for his girl."
You slapped his arm playfully, a blush creeping up your neck. "Don't say that in here!"
"Everybody knows." He whispered back.
As if on cue, Lando appeared. His eyes scanned the room, a triumphant grin splitting his face when they landed on you. You saw as he and Oscar hugged each other and the rest of the team.
He weaved his way through the crowd, a trail of congratulations and backslaps following him, but it was you he was drawn to. Everyone else faded into the background as he reached you, his victory grin melting into a tender smile reserved only for you.
You welcomed him into a hug, a sweet and loving embrace. He buried his face in your neck, the scent of champagne and his signature cologne an intoxicating mix.
"We did it!" He murmured, his voice filled with emotion.
"You did it!" You corrected, pulling back to cup his face. "I'm so proud of you."
Everyone was engaged in their own celebrations as he took your hand. He led you away from the loud crowd, a silent understanding passing between you. As you slipped inside his driver's room, he locked the door behind him, a thrill of nervousness ran through you.
He closed the distance between you, his eyes roaming your face before settling on your lips. With a tender touch, he cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing a seductive path across your lips.
"Please!" He pleaded, his voice low and urgent. "Just this once…" You knew exactly what he craved.
"Lando--" You began.
"Please!" He repeated, his voice laced with a desperation that mirrored your own.
You swallowed the lump in your throat. A part of you, the part that had spent months pushing him away, hesitated. But the other part yearned to give in. You nodded.
He cupped your face in his hands and pressed you against the wall. The next moment, his lips were on yours, the taste of champagne a sweet surprise against yours. The kiss was hungry and desperate. You clung to his fireproof shirt. The world melted away, replaced by the intoxicating sensation of his lips moving against yours. All the reasons you'd held back faded away. 
But just as the kiss deepened, a knock on the door jolted you both back to reality. You broke away, gasping for breath.
Lando groaned. "Yeah?" The voice from the other side told him they were expecting him. Lando rolled his eyes. "Just give me a minute."
When you heard the footsteps fade away, you reached for the doorknob, but Lando's hand shot out, his fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist.
"Stop it, Lando." You whispered.
"Don't!" He pleaded. "You can't tell me you didn't like it. I could feel it, Y/N. Don't deny it."
"I'm not denying it." You admitted your voice barely a whisper. "But you know why this can't happen."
Lando's jaw clenched. "It's NOT inappropriate! Look," he said, his voice softer now, "I waited this long for my first win. I can wait for you, just as long."
He cupped your jaw and before you could react, he leaned in and kissed the corner of your lips. He unlocked the door in one swift motion and stepped out, leaving you breathless.
You'd politely declined Lando's after-party invitation at the strip club near the hotel. You weren't the nightclub type, and deep down, Lando knew that. You assured him that you hadn't rejected it because of the kiss, but the way the call ended, left a pit in your stomach.
"He's mad! I know it." You mumbled to Oscar, who sat beside you at the hotel bar. The rest of the team was split between a game of darts in the back and loud conversations over drinks by the pool. "He didn't say 'bye, love' or 'see you later, beautiful', we just said bye."
Oscar facepalmed as he looked at his drunk best friend rambling about their mutual friend who was likely doing the same thing at the party.
"You're his friend, Y/N, not his girlfriend." He teased, sending a blush creeping up your cheeks. You stammered a reply, but the words got tangled up in your throat. "He's probably getting lucky tonight." He continued. "Deserves it after that win."
The implication hit you like a punch to the gut. "Lucky? You think he'll...?"
A mischievous glint danced in Oscar's eyes. "Oh, absolutely."
You downed the last of your drink, feeling a hollowness in your chest. "Good for him." You mumbled, the words lacking conviction.
Oscar groaned, frustration etching lines on his forehead. "Jesus, Y/N! The only girl he wants to get lucky with is you. Stop playing these mind games and making yourselves miserable!"
You rested your head on your hand, a wave of emotions crashing over you. "Oscar," You confessed, looking him straight in the eye. "I really like him. Like, never liked anyone this way before."
A slow smile spread across his face. "Then do something about it."
Lando was having the best time of his life, celebrating his first win with his friends. He felt his chest vibrate with every beat of the bass, as he laughed with his friends. Despite the fun he was having, he was also experiencing a dull ache. Your absence stood out.
He'd downed a few too many drinks to drown the disappointment steaming inside. When you declined the club invitation, his frustration boiled over into a harsh goodbye, which he quickly regretted. 
"Did you see who just walked in?" Max shouted into his ear over the loud music.
"What?" Max pointed towards the entrance, causing a frown to appear on Lando's forehead.
Your arrival sent a jolt through him, he felt a surge of adrenaline and his earlier frustration vanished as a smile stretched across his face.
"Go get your girl, champ!" Max patted his shoulder with a wink.
Lando needed no further encouragement. He navigated his way through the crowd, his eyes fixed on you.
You scanned the room with a hint of apprehension. Even in your tipsy state, a voice of reason whispered in your head, questioning this impulsive move.
Just as you turned to leave, a warm hand closed around your wrist. You didn't need to see his face to know who it was. His familiar touch sent a familiar spark across your skin.
He wore a playful smirk, but his eyes held a hint of concern. "I thought you weren't coming."
You tried to appear casual, but your voice betrayed you. "I wasn't."
"How much did you have to drink?" He asked you, and you furrowed your eyebrows. How did he know what you had been doing? You stuttered in response, unsure of what to say. "Did Oscar let you come here drunk?"
"I'm not drunk! And how do you know I've been drinking?"
"Then why the sudden change of heart?" His gaze softened, searching your face. "And Oscar's been keeping me updated."
"Why doe--"
"Why are you here, Y/n?" He asked you.
You felt your face getting hot as you looked around the club, the among of bodies suddenly overwhelming. "I, uh..." You cleared your throat, the words catching in your tight throat. "I need a drink."
As you made your way towards the bar, Lando followed closely behind. You approached the counter and asked the bartender for a drink. He nodded and began to mix your order. Lando stood by your side, looking a you. 
"How did you get here? Does Oscar know?" The concern in his voice sent a shiver down your spine.
You nodded and then drank the entire drink that was placed in front of you all at once. "Yes. He called me an Uber and told the guy to drop me here." Lando looked surprised as he noticed the empty glass in your hand. You hadn't intended to drink it so quickly, but your nerves got the best of you.
 "Whoa, slow down there."
"I thought you wanted to celebrate!" You said to him as the bartender handed you another drink. You took it and walked away. Lando's face was adorned with a smile, but worry still lingered in his mind. Despite that, there was a sense of happiness as the night was finally complete.
You leaned heavily against Lando, his arm wrapped securely around your waist, as the elevator ride made you feel dizzy. He, somehow, seemed frustratingly sober.
"Hey," He chuckled, his voice warm despite the coolness of the metal walls. You managed a watery smile, lifting a hand to touch his cheek. "What are you thinking about?"
"Dogs." You mumbled. "Do you think they dream about bones?"
Lando's laugh filled the small space. "Maybe. I don't know beautiful."
"Do you think I'm beautiful?" You blurted out, smiling innocently.
He stopped in front of your room, his gaze holding yours. The concern that had flickered in his eyes earlier was gone, replaced by something more intense. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." A giggle erupted from your lips. Lando reacted instinctively, clapping a hand over your mouth. It was late, and the last thing they needed was a noise complaint. "Shh." He murmured. "Gotta be quiet, love."
You nodded. "Okay!" 
"Where's your key?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of exasperation. You shrugged, the simple action requiring more effort than you cared to admit.
"Lando?" You whined. "Sleepy..."
He cursed under his breath, scanning the empty hallway. Walking up to the front desk for a key wasn't exactly his ideal scenario.
"Alright, you're coming with me." He said gently, scooping you up in his arms. A sleepy protest tumbled from your lips, but you clung to him instinctively as he carried you back towards the elevator.
"Can we go to the beach?" You mumbled as the doors closed.
"The beach will be there in the morning." He replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. "It's almost five am."
A giggle escaped you. "Naked swim?"
He cleared his throat, the sound a little rough. You'd been a delightful firecracker all night, and he was struggling to keep his cool. "The shower's a much better option right now."
The elevator doors slid open, and with a sigh, he carried you out, your head chilling against his shoulder. He fumbled with his keycard, finally pushing the door open with his foot.
In the room, he gently laid you on the bed, the soft sheets making you relax and close your eyes.
For a moment, he stood there, watching you. The urge to pull you close, to feel your warmth against him, was killing him. But your vulnerability state held him back.
"Hey, love?" He said softly, his voice laced with concern. "Can I take off your shoes?"
You mumbled something incomprehensible but managed a weak nod. He carefully removed your heels, his fingers brushing against your ankle for a fleeting moment that sent a jolt through him.
"Maybe a shower would be good." He suggested, his voice gruff. "You'll sleep better."
"With you?" She asked him, excited.
Lando, still feeling the effects of alcohol, ran his fingers through his hair, feeling hot.
"You can't imagine how much I want to say yes... But no, not tonight." You pouted. Grabbing your hands, he pulled you up. "Ask me again tomorrow!"
He gently led you to the bathroom and helped you sit down. He waited for the water to warm up, and when it was ready, he turned around. Suddenly, Lando's breath caught in his throat.
Without him realising, you had taken off your clothes. You stood bathed in the soft glow, vulnerability etched on your face, wearing only your black lace lingerie.
He tore his gaze from you. His heart beat a frantic rhythm against his ribs, mimicking the feel of the alcohol in his veins. Only if you weren't drunk...
"Are you okay?" Your voice was so gentle and innocent, nothing like it normally sounded. You reached out and touched his back. He flinched the innocent gesture a powerful trigger for his already steaming desire.
"Y/N, please!" He pleaded. "If you keep touching me..." The sentence trailed off, the implication hanging heavy in the air. The more he looked at you, the more his willpower crumbled. Shame washed over him. "Love, just take a shower. You need to sober up." He gestured to a pile of clothes on the counter. "There are some of mine there. I'll be outside when you're done."
You stayed in the shower for a while, the hot water feeling good against your skin. You weren't completely sober, the world still held a gentle sway, but the edge of drunkenness had dimmed.
Stepping out, you wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel Lando had left out. 
As you dried your hair, you caught your reflection in the mirror. Even in the state of mind you were, you knew you were going to regret it in the morning. You put on the clothes he had left you and shoved the feeling down. 
Lando, scrolling through his phone on the bed, looked up when the bathroom door creaked open. Relief washed over him as he saw you wrapped in his clothes.
"Feeling better?" He asked. You offered a small nod, leaning weakly against the doorframe. The playful energy that had fueled you earlier had dimmed, replaced by exhaustion. "Good!" He said, a hesitant smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Sleepy?" You simply nodded again. He cleared his throat, the silence growing heavy in the room. "So... Are you comfortable sharing the bed, or...?"
"It's fine." You mumbled. A playful glint flickered in your eyes. "And I promise I won't, uh, bite."
Lando chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "Don't get me wrong, love," He said, his voice dropping to a raspy whisper. "You could do whatever you wanted most nights, believe me. But not tonight."
He gestured to the empty spot beside him on the bed, inviting you to join him, an unspoken tension lingering in the air.
You waddled across the room, the oversized t-shirt hanging loosely on your body. Climbing onto the bed, you scooted closer to him, a nervous feeling running through you, despite the lingering effects of the alcohol still dancing through your veins.
"Can we at least...?" You trailed off, your voice barely a whisper. "You know... a goodnight kiss?
"You're a menace when you're drunk, you know that?" He teased, a playful sparkle in his eyes.
You batted your eyelashes in a way you knew usually worked. He sighed, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Alright, alright!" He complied. "But on the cheek. Lips are off-limits tonight."
You couldn't help the grin that spread across your face. As he leaned in, the faint scent of his cologne filled your senses. He placed a soft kiss on your cheek, sending shivers down your spine.
"Goodnight, Y/N!" He murmured, his voice sending a flutter to your heart. "Hope you'll remember this tomorrow morning."
"Goodnight, race winner." You replied, a hint of sleepiness in your voice.
Sunlight pierced through the blinds, finding your eyelids and forcing them open with a groan. Your head felt like a maraca that had been shaken all night, and your mouth tasted like a desert. Sitting up cautiously, you winced at the throbbing in the back of your head.
Memories and fragments started to come back. The kiss, the club, the dancing, Lando's strong arm around you... and then... a complete blank. Panic started to rise in your chest. What had you done? Had you said something stupid or done something worse?
The bedroom door creaked open and Lando entered, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand. He looked like a vision with his rumpled hair and a smile breaking out on his face as soon as he saw you awake.
"Good morning, sunshine!" He said, his voice sounding awful to your pounding head.
"Don't yell!" You mumbled. "Water?"
He chuckled, handing you a bottle of water. He sat on the edge of the bed, his concern evident in his eyes. You took a grateful sip, the cool liquid easing the dryness in your throat.
"Do you remember anything from last night?" He asked you, sitting on the edge of the bed, his concern evident in his eyes.
You took a deep breath. "I remember... bits and pieces." You admitted, shame creeping up your cheeks. "Lando, I am sorry if I did something or said something wrong... I must have been awful. I was very, very drunk."
He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Honestly? I wish you felt that comfortable around me all the time." Lando reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. His touch sent a jolt through you. "You know how much I like you... Y/n, I'm in love with you."
Your heart hammered against your ribs at his confession. A real and pure confession.
"Lando--" You breathed, your voice thick with emotion.
He took your hand in his, his eyes filled with a gentle understanding. "I know..." He said, his voice a soothing balm. "Just know that I'll wait for you. However long it takes." He squeezed your hand.
Tears welled up in your eyes. The years of running, of pushing him away, suddenly seemed pointless. All you wanted was to be here, with him.
Leaning forward, you met his gaze. Then, you cupped his face gently and placed a soft, sweet kiss on his lips. It was a kiss filled with apology and relief.
"I'm tired of running." You whispered against his lips. "I'm in love with you too. I've always have."
Lando couldn't help but grin as you hugged him. First, the win, then the kiss and now the girl of his dreams confessing her feelings. Yeah, you could definitely say it was a very good day for Lando No Wins.
"I love you, Y/n." You smiled, a genuine, heart-melting smile.
"I love you too, Lando." You knew, at that moment, hugging the person you had been in love with for years, that you were finally home.
465 notes · View notes
cherryredstars · 2 days
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Age Gap, Fingering, Slapping, Oral Sex, Penetrative Sex 
Summary: You didn't forget about her, did you?
A/N: The final part!!!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
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You're fed up!
You're so tired of that miserable woman and her threats about getting you evicted from your apartment with no valid excuses whatsoever! She just gets you so frustrated! It's to the point you can't even think straight with all your anger blinding you. You just seem so angry at everyone lately with your shitty week! First it's your stupid professors and their shitty assignments, then it's Miguel fucking O'Hara and his tendencies to give you the best orgasms of your life and then run away, and now this cranky old bitch who doesn't want to hop off your-
It's just too much in too little time. So rationally, with the clearest thoughts you've had all week, you'll give her something to complain about. And you know exactly the person to help you. You help him, he helps you, after all. Plus, he wasn't paid you back for helping him put away his groceries three weeks ago (no, that orgasm he gave you did not count!)
Your hand throws a rapid succession of sharp knocks at his door, your brows furrowing in impatience when he doesn't answer right away. You huff, instead slapping your hand against the door. You almost fall when the door is roughly yanked open, a shirtless Miguel appearing with a scowl marring his face until his eyes land on you. The anger instantly dissipates into concern, his mind running thousands of different scenarios through his head about the reason why you would be beating down his door so desperately. He opens his mouth, ready to ask when your palm lands flat against his toned stomach, pushing him back into the apartment.
"Need your help." You say flatly as you slam the door behind you.
"My- what? With what?" Miguel asks, his eyes dropping to where your hand is still pressed into his warm skin. He has to fight the urge to grab you by the wrist and force your hand further down.
"Noise complaint."
Miguel is even more confused now, eyes shooting up to yours in surprise. Why would you need to file a noise complaint? He hasn't heard anything obnoxious on their floor or the ones below and above. "About who?"
"Me."
Miguel's head is reeling when your lips crash into his. There is no sweet, calm period, it's straight messy and desperate. Your lips move frantically over his, your hand reaching up to twist the hair at the nape of his neck as you pull his head down. One of you moan- he's not quite sure if it's you or him- when you tilt your head to the side, allowing your tongue to push through the seam of his lips. Miguel's hands blindly grab for your hips, his exhales filling your mouth as he squeezes his eyes shut. Your tongue feels so warm wrapping around his, and his mind floats to how it would feel on his cock. It would be absolute heaven he's sure. Heaven with a high risk of him cumming in seconds like a teenage boy. His mind briefly drifts to the dream he had of you sucking him off, and his dick fucking cries.
His hands shift down your hips, reaching back until your ass is in his large hands. This time he knows he's the one moaning as he kneads the flesh through your pants, pulling you closer against his body. The kiss is sloppy, tongues fighting and saliva coating both of your lips. Your hand, still resting on his stomach, travels up. His skin burns under your touch, enticing and begging to be marked with hickies and bite marks.
You yelp into his mouth when he picks you up, forcing your legs to wrap around his waist to keep yourself from falling. Your ass is right above his straining erection, and you can already tell he's bigger, maybe even thicker, than what you've fantasized about all those days ago when you tried to stuff yourself full with your fingers. The train of thought crosses over to something else as Miguel sets you on the nearest surface. He places you on the dining table, and you know that you would be able to see the counter where he first played with your cunt over his shoulder. Your cunt that still has that untouched spot deep within you and you can't fit more than your two fingers into. Your two fingers that are the equivalent of one of his fingers. The fingers that are sliding into your panties.
His mouth parts from yours as his fingers brush over you clit, your hips bucking into his hand. He trails his mouth along your jaw, sucking right below your ear.
"You want a noise complaint?" He asks, his fingers circling your already weeping hole. "Then I'll make sure everyone on this fucking floor reports you."
On cue, you let out a high pitched squeal as Miguel suddenly thrusts two thick fingers into your tight pussy, your walls stretching rapidly to accommodate the intrusion. Your mouth falls open as your hands grab desperately at his shoulders, your nails digging crescents into the skin as he begins pumping his shoulder rapidly. There isn't a single ounce of preparation, your mind splitting in two as it tries to process the rapid pleasure overcoming your senses. You barely register anything besides the way Miguel curls his fingers into your cunt, eyes rolling back as the anger slowly melts into euphoria.
Your moans are loud and candid as you slowly buck into his fingers, head falling back as you take your pleasure from him. It makes Miguel chuckles, it's so easy to make you sing for him. He rewards you with a bite to your neck, causing you to gasp as it ignites a fire in your soul. He laps at the mark, soothing the burn as your thighs begin to shake. His fingers are abusing your cunt with the way they're pushing in and out of your cunt, effortlessly finding that gummy spot that has your toes curling. Your orgasm rips through you as your body jolts and shivers, pretty moans leaving your mouth as your orgasm washes over you.
You're so lost in your high that you don't realize Miguel's fingers aren't inside of you anymore and your lower half is bare. Your shaking thighs closing when a loud slap resonates in the room as his palm makes contact with your sensitive pussy. The most pornographic sound he's ever heard leaves your lips as you register the pain and pleasure coursing through you, glassy eyes staring down at Miguel's new position on the floor as he kneels. He forces your thighs open, eyes dark as he studies your quivering cunt. It's so adorable that he can't resist pressing a tiny peck to your twitchy clit, moaning as he gets a preview of your sweet arousal. It's addicting, and he's finally getting a chance to taste it again. He hasn't stopped thinking about it since that day in your apartment, the taste lingering in his mouth as he jerked himself off.
He pulls away again, giving another slap to your cunt before diving into his meal. Your mouth falls open in a shocked moan as he desperately sucks at your folds, your hands falling to his hair to press him closer. His tongue swipes at every inch of your skin, getting drunk on your sweet nectar and your string of noises. It's so, so sweet. His grip on your thighs tighten, loving the sticky juices that begin to coat his chin as he shakes his head between your thighs. His nose swipes against your cunt as he takes long licks along your cunt, making your body jump. You push him closer into you as you try to pull away, caught between the sensitivity running through your body and the need for more. Not that he would allow you to escape, he isn't quite down with his fill yet.
You cry out when his tongue pushes through your hole, scooping the cum and shiny arousal out of your cunt and into his eager mouth. He moans against you, sending vibrations through your body. Your body is getting so weak, forcing you to slowly lower yourself onto your back on the table. Your legs slowly lift to hang off his shoulders, your fingers knotting in his hair as you slowly ride his tongue. Miguel hums in approval, sticky clicks of his tongue attacking your clit as your body shakes harder. Your back arches as you calm again, riding his face frantically as you squirt over his face. Miguel thinks he could die like this, drowning in your juices as high pitched keens leave your lips.
Your skin feels sticky and gross against his table, your limbs weak and slightly aching from how intense your two orgasms were. You're sure you'll get plenty of complaints now, just as he promised. Your chest heaves with the effort to catch your breath, and your chin presses into your chest to look down at him. Your cheeks flush when his droopy eyes meet yours, his face dripping with your release. You open your mouth in a shy attempt to thank him, but your mouth runs dry when he stands up and his heavy dick lays hard and eager in his hands.
Your eyes can't leave his red, leaking head. He really is big, impossibly thick too. He chuckles at the wide look in your eyes, his hips leaning forward to swipe his precum over your sensitive clit.
"Don't fool y'self into thinking I was done, nena." He grins, slapping his dick against your cunt to watch the way your clit jumps. "Can't let y'go without feeling you gush around my cock."
You whimper when he pushes his tip against your hole, stretching it wider than it has even been stretched before. Your body twists in an effort to get away as he pushes further in, his hands holding your thigh and hip to keep you in place. Your nails try to dig into the polished wood of his table, only a sharp screeching noise being the result of your effort. Miguel pushes you closer to him, enjoying the scream you let out as your cunt swallows his dick to the hilt. Your walls are already pulsating around him, trying to push him out and pull him in deeper at the same time.
Miguel grits his teeth as he slowly pulls his hips back, slowly sinking into your plush warmth. He bites his lip as he groans, eyes focusing on the way he disappears into you. This is far better than what he could have ever imagined, with the way you hiccup moans and your cunt flushes around his length. He's fucked after this, and he'll be damned if he ever lets you leave his bed, or kitchen table, after this.
Miguel leans forward, his forearms planting on either side of your head. His pelvis is flush with yours, and you can feel his muscles pressing down on your stomach. You whimper at the feeling, slightly breathless at how intense everything is. With the new position, Miguel begins drilling into you at a steady pace. Faintly, you register the scrapping of wooden legs against tile, and you only feel slightly bad for his downstairs neighbors. On the other hand, Miguel is too focused on the obscene squelches leaving your cunt as he bullies his cock into you, his mind fogging. Both of you are slightly delirious, lost in the feeling of his dick pressing against your cervix. Miguel is babbling in your ear, gruff promises about something involving a credit card and tuition and tying you to his bed forever that you barely register over your own moans. You think something about a baby might have been thrown into the mix, but you don't quite care outside the need to have him fill you.
Your hands rack raised, red lines down his back as your body jolts with each thrust. Your eyes are squeezed shut as your body burns to the point of being uncomfortable. You call out to Miguel, only to be answered with a rough grunt. Your eyes slowly peel open, taking in the slightly blurred frame of Miguel. If you thought you looked like a hot mess, then you have nothing on Miguel. His hair, damp from sweat, hangs over his glowing eyes, a dark flush covering his face. His lips are parted slightly, heavy exhales leaving his lips as he basks in the feeling of having your walls sucked around him. The sight alone triggers your orgasm, head being thrown back as your walls clamp around him. Miguel groans, his hips stuttering before he's pressing flush against you as he cock twitches with release.
Both of your heavy breathing fill the room, Miguel's body slumped against yours. Your hands slowly trail up and down his back as you both try to calm down, and you whine from both sensitivity and disappointment when Miguel slowly pulls out of you. His hand pushes his limp hair back, a slightly dazed smile on his face as he takes in your body. Your shirt clings to your body from the sweat the two of you have built up, your thighs still open to reveal your abused cunt. Miguel has to look away, too tempted to see how hard he would have to thrust into you to make the table break.
Even with your body feeling heavy, you push yourself up as Miguel moves to turn away. Your body gets a shot of adrenaline as panic courses through you. Your hand snaps to his wrist, keeping him in place. Your eyes are wide as you look at him, and the fear is clear as day. Miguel chuckles at your silly reaction, taking your chin and pressing a kiss to your lips. This one is slower than the last, but just as consuming.
"Relax, gonna clean y'up. That's all." He reassures, pushing your hair out of your face. "Not planning on leaving."
He doesn't plan on letting you leave either, you'll need a place to stay after you get all those noise complaints anyways.
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THE END!!!!! Request what you will with these two, I wouldn't mind doing little side stories about them hehe.
455 notes · View notes
plumipal · 2 days
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Last Name Dilemma
Yknow, this is purely for myself, happy me hating my last name. This is a yandere thing btw and please note that I am an artist, not a writer :,) so sorry for any grammar/spelling mistakes
I had this amazing idea. If you don't really like your last name and get sucked into the world of twisted wonderland, why not just get a new one? It's very easy when you have suitors vying for your attention at every corner of the school! 🤭
It all started in the cafeteria...
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Of course they were overjoyed you thought their last names were cool, did this mean you indirectly wanted to marry them? Well the game is on, and they for sure will win.
Much to their displeasure though, rumors speads fast at NRC, with everyone else quickly getting to know about your lastname dilemma. They are not backing down, wanting to burn the world down just to achieve their happy ending with you.
Ace
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Of course you would want to marry him! He is your first friend in this wretched school after all! (Deuce would like to differ on that statement but yeah)
Ace may not be the richest, smartest or most beautiful, but he is your best friend, (hopefully) your first choise and (will make sure to be) your first love! Guy is serious. He will also pull all sorts of dirty tricks against everyone else, you're his bestie to marry no one else's!
Deuce
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Ah poor little Deuce. Guy choked on his food when he first heard you talk about how cool their last names sounded. You think his last name is cool? Does that mean that you like him too? You wanna date him, marry him? Be his forever?? He is feeding into his own delusions and your words are only making it worse.
As soon as he has finished lunch he will excuse himself and make a call to his mom and tell her the wonderful news on how you and him will definitely get married! (He just gotta get you a sweet, sweet ring that you deserve)
Cater
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Cater being quick on the trends, he was even quicker on the rumors about you having no last name (and definelty needing one). He has such a cute last name, it would fit so well with you! <3
He is already dreaming up the perfect magicam wedding, to show off how the oh so wonderful you chose him, and no one else. He also dreams of the private moments after, how you'll hold him as he sobs his heart out, so happy you chose him. He hopes these silly daydreams will soon become reality, cos he can't wait much longer..
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He also definelty overloads you with his clones, giving you so much love you don't need to turn to anyone else for that :)
Trey
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When Trey heard the rumors he sighed, feeling bad for how overwhelmed you probably are with everyone else's proposals. Well, come to him whenever you feel like it's too much, he will always make sure to lktsen to your problems (he loves the domestic feel to just having late night chats with you in the heartlbuyl kitchen as he prepares another batch of sweets for the next unbirthday party).
He will make sure that his own proposal of marriage is short and sweet, and he is sure it will win you over, who wouldn't want his sweets all day every day? He will make sure to feed and love you for the rest of eternity if you chose him <3
Riddle
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Riddle is messy, he wants you as his spouse and he kinda wants it NOW, since he feels like he deserves it. You're the perfect match to him, the king of hearts to his queen od hearts...
He will show off how good of a husband he would be to you, how he will take care of you with a stable job, how he will help you with all homework and make sure you get special treatment on unbirthday parties. If he sees anyone trying to propose why they should be yours and not him, well, you know his unique magic...
Jack
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Wolves mate for life. Jack wants to mate for life. Who does he want as his mate? You. You have changed his life, and he does not want to lose you, please. He is territorial, liking how your name would sound with his last name, now he just gotta make it happen..
Ruggie
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Ruggie feels desperate when he hears the rumors. Why would you chose him, when you have literal celebrities, prince's and high standing people vying for you? Then he remembers, he owes you. It's usually the other way around yes, bur he owes you somehow.
With this he cooks up the amazing plan of giving you his last name as a thanks for that one time. He also gotta introduce you to his family, he knows granny bucchi is gonna peer pressure you into accepting marriage with him...
Leona
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Leona will not lose you. He has lost so much coming second to everyone he knows. He will NOT lose you to anyone here, he will fight dirty and kill for you if there's a chance he gets with you. He has the money to hire help to get rid of people too, and that same money can sway you into chosing him, since that deadbeat crow ain't giving you a liveable sum to live on.
He makes sure to capture you for naps whenever he can, making sure to leave his scent on you, enough so most people can smell how he has been on you.
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Floyd
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Eeh? Shrimps wants a good last name?? Well with his you could scare oh so many away, leading to an easy life for you! It also leads to a fun life with you and him, and there will never be a dull moment in his life with you by his side!
Just don't take his last name with his brother yeah? Get with him instead.
Jade
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Oya? The prefect wants a last name? A husband too perhaps? Jade's smile widens as he plans out how to trap you into a wonderful marriage with him. Perhaps some of his new mushrooms in his terrariums will make you tired enough to get you to sign a marriage contract with him?
Just don't marry his brother instead of him, he don't really know how he would handle that..
Azul
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Azul feels himself become of sp happy whenhe heard the rumors. Finally! You will have him corner you as soon as he can, sweet smile on his face as he offers you a golden contract of his. He crafted it meticulously, making sure everything in it would be perfect for the both of you.
He tries to butter you up so badly, please he just wants you to himself, is that too much to ask for?
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Jamil
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Jamil has to hold back to use snake whisper, but he has it in case you chose the wrong option (not him). He wants you, he does that to lose you to anyone, ESPECIALLY KALIM. He probably uses snake whisper against others, to sabotage, to do anything. He just can't lose you...
He definelty shows off his cooking and cleaning skills, showing how he can be the perfect househusband for you. Look how good you could have it with him...
Kalim
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Kalim is manipulative about this. He mat not be aware of it, bur he sure is. He wants you as his (spouce) bestie, and he will get that. Guy has never gotten a no, and he will not get one now (he hope atleast).
Let him plan you a grandiose wedding! With food, clothes, venue, parades and so much more worth millions and millions of thaumarks. He will space no expense for you!
Epel
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Why is epel so roughened up? Why he fought for your hand of course! Isn't it manly to show off that you can easily fend gör your love? He also loves loves LOVES the attention you give him as you fix him up.
He feels so proud of the fights he won, wearing the scars like proud medals, so please take care of them before they get infected- he will only let you do it-
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Maybe he will get into more fights if he can get your heavenly touch as a reward..
Rook
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Rook stalks you on the daily, so of course he got to work as soon as the words left your mouth. He will hunt you down, get your heart and love and live happily every after :)
He 100% gets violent as well, bur of course you won't see that side of him! He wouldn't want to scare you..
Vil
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Vil is certain you will chose him. He is the fairest of them all (niege don't count he is ugly), that is what you deserve. He will take care of you, especially your appearance. You've sent how he is with epel, now get ready for double that...
He dolls you up, makes you the best version of yourself so he can show you off on his socials,to mush it into that dumb nieges face that THE vil had you and niege doesn't. He is the fairest of them all with you of course..
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Of course, he is the only queen worthy enought for your love and affection, so please just marry him already, he wants a Photoshoot together with you...
Idia (plus Ortho being STRICTLY PLATONIC)
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I'm sorry but have you read his ssr story? Guy doxxes over nothing lol. He will breach your security if you tell him no, he has lost so much already, can't he have you please? You're the only thing he wants...
He will 100% use Ortho against you, backing you into a corner together with the robot. Ortho wants to make his brother happy, and he would be the happiest together with you. Ortho would also be so so so happy if you were his bif sibling too!
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Theyve lost so much, they just want a happy family, together with you.. (ORTHO ONLY WANTS YOU AS A SIBLING NO WEIRD SHI AGAINST ORTHO PLEASE)
Sebek
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Sebek has to run to lilia for guidance. Why has this human out this wonderful spell on him, why does he feel so lightweight? Why is his face so red? Why does he want to reject you for the rest od your days, more than he wants to protect malleus?
He wants to marry you. To have a wonderful marriage between human hand half fae, almost liek his parents... he will protect you at all costs. Please do love his loudmouth ass back..
Silver
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Silver has no last name as well, so in his mind you both are already matching. He is too sleepy to actually do anything other than fall asleep with you.
Lilia
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Lilia would snicker at the rumors. Ah, how he feels young again, silly what love can do to someone... he would love to help his son's with this, but sadly he wants this just as much if not more...
Malleus
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Malleus does not want to lose his friend. His first and only real friend. He has tried to court you for so long, and now that you've dropped a hint that you wanted him (by saying you wanted a cool last name) he starts the royal courting traditions.
He follows all the traditions, step by step, being very careful to be correct and sparing no expense. He makes sure you see the future home of yours (the castle), his humongous hoard and his greatest treasure, gao gao dragon..
.. holy hell this was so much longer than what I expected. Well, who would you go for? Do tell :,)
Also, would yall want more long form content like this or way more short form? My asks got deleted so don't really have any to draw smhhh </3 so do send shi in please <3
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( 🟦 🎞️ 🟦 )
AITA for telling my coworker that he’s stupid for liking an objectively TERRIBLE film?
I (27M) and my coworker (25M) usually have “movie nights” on our days off. We find time to sit down and watch a movie together. He’s usually agreeable on what movie I want to watch, but sometimes I do let him choose the movie, as long as I don’t find it too unbearable. (His taste in cinema is below average.)
Earlier today, he reminded me that neither of us were scheduled on Friday or Saturday, and he asked me if I wanted to do a movie night. I agreed, and asked him if he wanted to watch anything in particular. (This is more of a pleasantry. He usually never suggests anything specific when I ask this.)
Surprisingly, he said that he did have a movie in mind! Unfortunately, the movie he had in mind was the 2009 movie, Avatar. The one with the blue people.
After he said this to me, I laughed at him, because no one actually LIKES that movie. The best anyone can say is that it’s visually appealing! The plot is drawn out, bland, and not worth nearly three hours of my time. I asked him if he was serious about wanting to watch it, because I never took him for the type to enjoy something so dull.
He frowned at me and said that he'd watched it a few times with his ex-girlfriend when they were still dating, and that he’d really liked it… and not just for the visual aspect? He said that he wanted to watch it with me too. He continued to justify it by bringing up the fact that I like other sci-fi movies and shows, and that he didn’t see how this was any different from those.
I told him that it was different because there was no reason for a movie to go for so LONG and to give so LITTLE, and he started whining about the first Lord of the Rings movie (which we’d watched a few months ago) and how it was longer than Avatar.
I told him that there was a HUGE difference: LotR is actually good! This only seemed to upset him more. He scoffed at me, saying that I couldn’t see a good movie if it was right in front of me. He said this jokingly, but I could tell he was upset. I glared at him, but didn’t say anything.
After a few seconds of tense silence, he asked AGAIN if we could watch it on Friday, because I’m the one who always picks the movies, and that it was unfair that he never got to pick any. I told him no, because Avatar is an awful film, and that he was really stupid for liking it.
I don’t think I’m wrong for telling him that Avatar sucks, considering it’s common knowledge, but calling him stupid might’ve crossed the line for him. I’m pretty sure that this comment is what made him mad, because it sparked a bigger argument, which eventually led to him sleeping on the couch for the night. I’ve called him stupid in other situations before, so I’m not sure why he’s making such a big deal about it now.
I don’t think I’m the asshole… If I am, I’m definitely justified. The only reason I’m asking is because a close friend of mine (28X) said that I was too harsh about it, so now I'm second-guessing myself. AITA for telling my coworker that he’s stupid for liking an objectively TERRIBLE film?
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spaceman-earthgirl · 3 days
Text
“Did you see this?” Lena asks, holding her phone out towards Kara. “It’s about your cousin.”
Kara’s instantly worried. If there’s a news article about Clark, there’s only two things it could be. One, he’s been in a big fight or something else dangerous has happened, or if it’s about Clark, and not Superman, then that could only spell bad news for Clark and his secret identity.
Kara’s heart actually stops for a moment when she sees “Clark Kent” in the headline, but lets out a sigh of relief when she realises it’s not a Daily Planet article, but an article from an online gossip magazine.
Lois Lane and Clark Kent, Metropolis’s Hottest New Couple?
Kara quickly scans the article, which is nothing but gossip, and two photos, one of Clark and Lois holding hands, another of the couple leaning close at a restaurant.
Kara smiles as she hands the phone back to Lena. Despite the lack of privacy some papparazi have, Kara is happy for her cousin.
“So, it’s true then?”
Kara nods. “It is. Clark called me last week. He was so happy they’re soulmates. Anyone with eyes could see they belong together but it’s nice to have it confirmed.”
And nice for Kara too. She’d always wondered if it was still possible that she could have a soulmate, one not from Krypton.
Turns out it is.
“That’s-“ Lena cuts herself off. “Wait, confirmed? What do you mean?”
Kara’s eyes widen as she realises her slip. She’s thought about telling Lena in so many different ways, at so many different times. But fear has always stopped her. What if she told Lena the truth, what if they kissed, and she finds out Lena isn’t her soulmate?
Kara’s never felt this way about anyone before, doesn’t think she could ever feel like this about anyone else either.
“I…do you believe in soulmates?” Kara asks, stalling slightly.
“No.” Lena replies. “Or I didn’t, until you just implied that soulmates are real.”
read the rest on ao3 or under the cut
Kara sighs. There’s no getting out of this. “They’re not real, at least not on Earth. Or not usually. Lois is the only human I’ve seen or heard of that has a soulmate. Clark and Lois are soulmates. All Kryptonian’s have one.”
“Are you…” Lena narrows her eyes. “You’re being serious?”
Kara nods. “The legend goes that Rao picks your soulmate, the person whose soul matches yours, the one most suited to you. But he doesn’t tell you who it is, you have to find that person yourself.”
“How?”
“I don’t know, they just find each other.” Kara had lost hope, with no one but her cousin left on Earth. But then she’d found Lena. Even before Clark had told her about Lois, she’d wondered if Lena could be her soulmate. “And then after your first kiss, a mark appears on your skin with their name, and that’s how you know they’re the one.”
Kara can see Lena’s mind working. “Does that mean Clark and Lois now have the other’s name written on each other?”
Kara laughs. “Yes. It was actually pretty funny when Clark called me, he’d had to explain to a very confused Lois why she now had a tattoo of Clark’s name.”
“So, you have to kiss someone to know?”
Kara nods. “I’m not sure why. I think it gives you a chance to get to know someone before you find out you’re destined to be together.”
“Have you found your soulmate?”
Kara shakes her head, though it feels wrong when she’s pretty sure her soulmate is right in front of her. Not that she knows for sure. “Not yet.”
“Do you wonder, every time you kiss someone, that they’ll be the one?”
“Yes and no. When I was younger, I’d hoped, just to prove I wasn’t alone. Sometimes I know they’re not the one, but now I know there’s someone out there for me, and I just have to wait.”
Lena lets out a little laugh. “I guess it puts more pressure on a first kiss, like there isn’t enough already.”
Kara laughs too. “It really does.” She can’t help but wonder, that without this extra pressure, whether she would have already told Lena how she feels.
“Who knows,” Lena says, still smiling. “It could even be me.”
Kara chokes on nothing. The hand that appears at Kara’s back, soothing up and down as Kara tries to catch her breath, doesn’t help at all.
“It…it could be,” Kara finally manages to get out.
Lena looks amused, clearly enjoying Kara’s struggle, and Kara suddenly wants to do nothing more than kiss that look off of Lena’s face.
Lena shrugs. “We’ve never kissed so you never know.”
“I haven’t kissed a lot of people,” Kara points out unnecessarily. “It could be any of them too.” She’s not sure why she says it, except for the fact she wants to point the focus of the conversation away from Lena and kissing.
“Well, you’re not getting any younger, you need to start crossing people off that list.”
Kara rolls her eyes and suddenly everything feels back to normal, she’s just talking to her best friend, the person besides Alex she trusts most in the universe.
“Are you hungry, we could-“ Kara starts, assuming the conversation is over, at least for now, until Kara can work up the courage to tell Lena how she feels, but Lena isn’t done.
“Kara,” Lena cuts in, looking suddenly serious. “I don’t know if I’m way off here but I know I’m not going to be able to stop thinking about this.” Lena reaches out and takes Kara’s hand and Kara’s breath catches in her chest. “Please tell me you feel this too? Please tell me I’m not the only one who’s fallen in love with their best friend? I didn’t even believe in soulmates before today but I’ve always believed we found each other for a reason, that we belong together. And maybe this is why.”
There are tears in Lena’s eyes by the time she finishes talking and Kara’s own heart is racing as she reaches up to catch a tear before it spills down Lena’s cheek.
And then she doesn’t even think as she leans forward, capturing Lena’s lips in a kiss she’s dreamt about too many times to count.
Lena’s breath catches as their lips meet and now Kara’s crying too as Lena’s hand grips her shirt, holding her close.
The kiss is brief, only because Kara’s forgotten something crucial and she has to tell Lena. “I love you, too,” Kara says as she pulls back, the words brushing Lena’s mouth as she does.
Kara’s whole body is on fire as green eyes meet hers, still so close. Kara doesn’t even need to look down to where her arm is tingling, to know that Lena’s her soulmate. She’s pretty sure deep down she’s known since she first laid eyes on her.
With great effort she does look away from Lena, only because she wants to show Lena the words now written on her skin.
Kara pulls up her sleeve and there it is, in black ink, undeniable against her tan skin. There is Lena’s name, and Kara is crying again.
“That’s going to be tough to hide,” Lena says, and it’s meant to be a joke but it comes out too breathless to be anything but awe. Lena lifts her hand, runs her fingers gently over the name, and Kara’s knees go weak.
“Do you…” Kara asks, because now she wants to see it, needs to see her name on Lena’s skin too.
Lena turns, and she must have had the same feeling as Kara because she lifts up her shirt and there it is, low on Lena’s back, ‘Kara Zor-El’ written clear as day.
Kara reaches out, thumb ghosting over the spot her name is written.
“It is there?” Lena asks, voice filled with such hope that Kara places her hands on her arms, spins her gently until they’re facing each other again.
“Yes.” Kara lifts her hands, cups Lena’s cheek, thumbs catching more tears as they fall. They both know they’re happy tears. “I love you,” Kara repeats, because she can now. She’s going to say it so many times, Lena will get sick of it.
“I love you, too,” Lena repeats, her smile so bright Kara’s knees go weak again. And then Lena leans forward and kisses her again and Kara is lucky she manages to stay upright because Lena’s mouth feels so right and perfect against her own.
---
Two days later, in the CatCo gossip column, there’s a picture of the two of them kissing in Noonan’s, with the title:
Lena Luthor and Kara Danvers, National City’s Hottest New Couple?
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hitomisuzuya · 2 days
Text
Aventurine x fem!reader. Smut. Cunnilingus. Slight manipulation. Soft in some spots. Purely self indulgent. Implied size difference (Aventurine is taller)
My hands are shaking while I write this. I'm gonna slink off and hide when I am done 😭 I'm very nervous.
Aventurine had felt a soft tug on his sleeve one night at a roulette table. He kept betting more and more each time he won, and was drawing a crowd around him. He looked over and then down.
"Hold on," You'd said in the shyest voice, finding it hard to look away from his eyes. You'd never seen eyes quite like his. Eyes that could stop your heart in your chest with just one glance, the shock of how beautiful they were restarting it.
You'd been looking for a way, any way to get his attention all night. "Let me kiss your roulette chip," An even shyer blush crept into your cheeks, which he found incredibly endearing. "For good luck," You added, forcing yourself to look away from his eyes to control your pounding heart.
It bewildered him nonetheless that someone was showing him such sweet consideration without him having to ask for it.
Over the next few months, it soon became routine for you brush your lips against whatever gambling tool Aventurine was using that night. All in the name of good luck. Sure, he never lost but you, you were starting to make his winning feel even better.
That led to lingering touches and looks between the two of you. And it wasn't long before he felt the foreign feeling of wanting a level of deeper intimacy with you.
Aventurine knew he could seduce you for little tastes of you at a time, but why do that when he could go all in and win the chance in the fashion he was accustomed to.
He chose to simple game to play with you. Blackjack. First one to bust three times lost. And if he won, he got to eat you out. He couldn't lie to himself and say that he didn't choose this game specifically to get what he wanted.
You'd innocently told him that you weren't very good at math, agreeing to play if he checked your math for you.
His gloved fingers looked so beautiful dealing the card. He could see you considering your decisions to hit or stay very carefully. Did you want to impress him?
Aventurine selfishly fudged the math each time. His smirk on your third "bust" was one for the ages. One that made your heart flutter. Your wager was that if you won, you got play with his cat cakes.
Which he would still let you do. The way you smiled, giggled and cooed at them was just too adorable for him not to let you play with them.
After he devoured you first, of course.
Aventurine took his time slowly licking up and down the stripe of your cunt outside of your panties. The soft, shaky sighs that started to sound from your pretty mouth as his tongue deftly teased at your clit, coaxing it to throb stronger with each languid lick as his saliva soaked onto your panties.
He chuckled softly as you reached down to peel your panties aside. "I'll do you one better, sweetheart. Let me," He slowly pulled your panties down your legs and discarded them on the floor next to his bed.
Aventurine's eyes drank in the sight of your puffy pussy, almost embarrassingly wet from the teasing ministrations of his tongue. He was determined to take care of properly, returning all that consideration you'd showered him with by kissing his gambling chips for good luck.
You clamped a hand over your mouth to muffle your loud moan as his tongue parted your folds. He chuckled, his tongue dancing on your clit. He could tell you were being reserved about your noises.
His fingers brushed on the inside of your thigh, making you shiver as your hips suddenly jerked to grind against his tongue, the taste of you assaulting his senses. "You look cute when you are shy, but let me hear you enjoying yourself," He encouraged with an easy smile.
Aventurine didn't want you to think. The only thing he wanted you to focus on was him, and how good his tongue was making you feel. He groaned happily into your cunt as you grinded against his mouth again.
He was tentative about holding onto your thighs or your hips too tightly at first while he lost himself in your pussy. He didn't want to restrict your movements. Anything to keep you grinding and imprinting your taste on his tongue.
The way your hand shook as the found the back of his head, tugging on his soft, blonde hair as you pressed his mouth down onto your cunt was addicting. His fingers found purchase on your thighs, pressing inevitable marks of possession.
Now that Aventurine had you, he wasn't going to let you go. Especially not when you tasted this fucking good. He was absolutely reeling as he plunged his tongue as far inside of you as it could go.
He swirled his tongue, and it felt like every pleasurable nerve ending in your body was coming to life. The staticy haze of pleasure was overwhelming. It wasn't long before you forgot all about covering your mouth with your hand to hold back your noises.
The feeling to submit to his every intimate whim gripped you like a vice. He wanted you to moan, so moan you did. Your legs shook as his mouth latched out your clit, the wet slurping noises that mingled your moans said how much he was enjoying himself.
The wetter you got, the louder you got, the more your body twitched in response to him made him want more with each lick and suck.
Aventurine didn't even hear himself whimpering at first as he rutted his aching cock into the mattress. He was completely and wholly focused on you. You looked so beautiful with tears of pleasure welling in your eyes, his tongue teasing and swirling between your gummy walls.
His cock throbbed harder each time feeling your walls tighten around his tongue. Tears of pleasure were so interesting to see. He was used to tears of different variety. It was refreshing for him.
He vibrated moan after moan onto your clit as he sucked on it, feeling twice the rush observing you pinching one of your nipples to chase the high he was building up oh so agonizingly slow.
"Aventurine!" Your cry of his name as your orgasm hit you sounded even sweeter than he imagined. His tongue never stopped fucking into you through your orgasm.
"Let's up the ante," He purred, releasing your clit with a wet pop. You looked so defenselessly beautiful all fucked out above him. "How about we bet that I can make you squirt now?"
You pushed his mouth back down onto your pussy in response.
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melrodrigo · 2 days
Text
music nerds
Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader
Summary: Jenna stumbles upon a tiny vinyl shop, and thinks the employee is mighty cute.
A/n: here it is nerds, my first jenna fic. Was in a silly goofy mood, I miss my babygirl so.
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It started at the vinyl shop. You, rearranging the different records into the correct sections, stood humming absentmindedly to the tune of the song playing.
“How’s my favorite employee of the month doing?” Your coworker (and best friend) Harry pipes up, leaning on the shelves opposite you.
“You can stop calling me that, we both know the only reason I got crowned this month was because you missed six days and I had to cover for your ass.” You mumble, slightly annoyed. It had been a long day, with customers shuffling in and out without ever buying anything. It didn’t help that the only customers Harry attended to were girls he thought were cute.
He nudges you a little, trying to prompt you away from rearranging the vinyls.
When you don’t answer, he huffs a little and then makes his way to the back—no doubt about to take a nap—where he’ll stay until closing time.
You sigh softly, shaking your head.
Even though you loved Harry to shreds, you hated being his coworker. He could be trusted with nothing.
You move over to the next section, swaying a little to the tune, losing yourself in the music.
You’re aware of the jingle of the bell that indicates someone has entered as you shuffle through the records.
They could take care of themselves for just a few minutes, you reckon.
Soft footsteps sound from behind you, and the sound of someone putting a stop to the music makes you frown. Then, there’s a tiny scratching noise before the melody of I am Controlled By Your Love by Helene Smith sounds through the tiny store.
You can’t help the tiny smile that envelops your face; and the surprise that echos through your mind. You’d just found out about this song, while scrolling through a playlist someone had made for your celebrity crush, Jenna Ortega.
Apparently she liked the song, if you remembered correctly from watching one of her interviews passingly.
“Great choice.” You tell whoever put it on, still not turning to face them.
“Thanks, I’m surprised this place has it. I’ve been looking for weeks.” A girl answers, and it sounds vaguely familiar.
“Well, we sure do. One of the best vinyl stores in the country if I do say so myself.” You smile, finally finishing tampering with the discs and turn to your customer.
It takes everything in you to not gasp out loud—standing in front of you was the Jenna Ortega.
You feel your hands grip the shelves just a little tighter, and you prayed to god that Jenna didn’t see the blush very quickly climbing up your neck.
“One of the best, huh?” She smiles, and you swear you could feel your heart physically melt.
She looks, if not better, exactly like in the pictures. It’s surreal, this person you see almost everyday on your phone, standing in front of you.
She’s wearing a black turtleneck sweater and some baggy jeans. There are sunglasses blocking her eyes, maybe to try to avert attention, but you could tell in an instant who she was.
You think she knows too, by the way she’s smirking a little.
“Yeah, and there are a ton of artists just like the one you just put on, at the back corner over there.” You point with shaky fingers, cursing yourself for looking so stupid.
She nods and disappears further into the store, and you breathe out in relief.
Holy shit! Jenna Ortega!
You place a hand over your heart, reminding yourself to be normal and check if you’re still breathing.
“Uh-I’m sorry. I couldn’t find it. Where did you say?” She pops her head out from one of the shelves, cocking her head to the side.
You grab your bearings, determined to not make a fool of yourself.
You were an employee. Just an employee helping out a confused customer.
“It’s hard to find, believe me I know.” You smile reassuringly, sauntering over to where she was standing.
“Here, just follow me.” You say, weaving through the maze that was this tiny vinyl store.
She bumps into you a few times, saying a soft sorry as she does. You placate her worries with soft it’s okays everytime she does.
“Ahah! Right here. My pride and joy.” You beam, getting used to having her so close and relaxing.
“What would you recommend?” She muses, flicking through the artists.
“Well, I’m a Beatles girl myself,” You tell her, looking over the records, “but I am a sucker for The Mamas & The Papas.”
She raises an eyebrow at you, and you hold your hands up in defeat.
“I know, I know! I’m a mainstream whore.” You say before you can stop yourself, something definitely inappropriate to say to a customer.
Jenna lets out a little giggle, fast like she can’t help herself.
You take the opportunity to keep talking, since she seems interested in the music over here.
“But, there is another artist somewhere here, I think you’ll like.” You wink, then mentally face palm yourself.
You turn back to the records in order to hide your expression, finally finding the guy you were looking for.
“Frank Zappa.” You explain as you hand it over to her. “An instrumental.”
She looks at it thoughtfully, inspecting the album art; then looks up at you and smiles. Her brown eyes make you want to cry and scream, but you keep your composure.
“You have nice eyes.” She murmurs, eyes flickering over your face. Then, just as fast, she turns away and walks back the way you came.
“What just happened.” You breathe once she’s out of earshot, carefully walking back to the cashier.
She’s waiting, texting someone on her phone.
When you slide up behind the counter, all flirty smiles, she tilts her head.
“Took you long enough.” She teases, scrunching her nose in embarrassment unconsciously.
You stutter endlessly, trying and failing to come up with an excuse. It all comes out in one jumbled poor excuse of a sentence that you try to cover up with a cough.
You slide her things over and scan them, not daring to look at her probably smug face.
“That’s all.” You say, somewhat bashfully, stealing a glance back at her.
Her eyes flicker with something you can’t quite place, but something you can certainly feel. Warmth envelops you whole, your knees turning into jelly.
You put her stuff into a plastic bag, hand them over, and bite back the hitch of breath when your hand grazes hers.
She bites her lip thoughtfully, shifting on her feet. The bag is in her hands now, she’s free to leave.
But still, she stands there, looking like she’s thinking very hard about something.
You try and prompt her out of her thoughts, murmur a quiet, “Anything else?” and watches as she takes out her phone and pushes it to your side of the desk.
“Yeah. Your number.” She squeaks, blushing a faint pink. She clears her throat and says it again, in a tone deeper than before.
It takes absolutely everything in you to keep your mouth shut. It desperately desperately wants to drop, not quite computing what is really happening.
You take it before she can change her mind, quickly jamming in your number and taking a quick photo for the profile.
She beams as you hand it back to her, not bothering to stop the cheeky satisfied smile that wants to take over her lips.
“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” She asks, and you nod adamantly, forgetting all pretense of chill.
“Right. Uh huh. Super!” You call out as she makes her way out the door, shaking her head at your dorkiness.
“Holy shit!” You yell this time, breathing out a huge sigh of relief you didn’t even know you were holding.
You’re rooted to the spot, afraid that if you move you’ll wake up and this’ll all be a dream.
“Wha-What happened?” Harry comes tumbling out the back door, plastic baseball bat in hand.
You lock eyes with him and let yourself fall down into the nearest chair, all wild eyes.
“I just got Jenna Ortega’s number!” You tell him, letting your hands run through your hair, happy and stressed.
His eyes narrow, then he shoots you a lopsided smirk.
“Sure you did.” He says, letting the baseball bat fall beside him, guard down.
“No Harry, she really came in here! And asked me for my number!” You yell, exasperated.
You can tell he doesn’t really believe you, but all it takes is one good look at your face, all white and red at the same time, and he’s widening his eyes comically wide.
“No fucking way.” He gushes, sliding over to sit beside you. He practically preens over you, all questioning eyes.
“Well what did you do?” He pushes, waiting for you to elaborate.
You tell him the whole story, slightly reveling in his reactions. He never fails to make you laugh at his comments.
“So…what now?” Harry asks after a minute, raising his eyebrows.
You sigh. “I don’t know, I guess I’m gonna have to wait for her to call me. Who knows how long that’s gonna take.”
“Well, you better be ready for her when she does. Oh my god we so need to do a makeover.” He rambles, turning on his phone to look at hairdressers nearby. You lean back into your chair, overwhelmed.
For now, you’re worry-less. Jenna Ortega just asked for your number, and you think you couldn’t be luckier. The only thing to do now was wait, and so you do.
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ffsg0jo · 1 day
Text
toji's not used to this.
the sweet nothings whispered into his cheek, the feeling of the newly risen sun soaking into his skin. his body is telling him to move, to get up, to just grab the money you left him on the desk and leave. but your arms tighten around his torso, and he takes a deep breath in, slightly relaxing into your hold. he reminds himself that there is no money and that there is no reason for him to leave. he's safe in your arms.
he hasn't had to leave before the sun's up in a while now. he's almost forgotten how it feels to be ashamed since he met you. you saw him like he was an actual person. really looked at him, past the hard exterior, and saw more than just a man to take advantage of.
it's taking time for him to get used to being cared for, to being loved. in the year (almost two) that he's known you, it has gotten infinitely better. he's got a roof permanently over his head, is in contact with megumi (the boy's set to move back in with his father just before his birthday) and has gotten a stable job with a decent income. you've helped him with budgeting and saving money (upon his request), and he's even started a small 'megumi college fund'.
he finds himself opening up to both you and his son more, sharing little snippets of the thoughts on his mind and his feelings. with the child growing faster and faster as the days go by, he realises just how alike him and megumi are. emotionally stunted, but both loving fiercely. he has his mother's smile though.
his wife's smile.
his late wife. she would've hated what he became after her death. would've scolded him for leaving his son with a random teenager. would’ve despised the countless murders, her heart breaking at what he’s had to do for money and a roof. maybe it was a good thing she wasn’t alive to see it.
he wonders if she'd be okay with him moving on.
in another life, you both would've been the bestest of friends. you're so alike but so different at the same time. you're both his respite too. she might've left him for you if he was being honest, the thought making him laugh dryly every single time it enters his mind.
toji feels like he can conquer the world with you cheering him on and his son right beside you, in his corner. he's getting better. he really is. but progress isn't linear.
there are still nights where he breaks down, sobbing into your arms.
he tries to be quiet, but his throat clogs up, and he can't breathe. he's gasping for air, trying to focus on the way one of your hands is sifting through his hair and the other rubbing his back. but he slips, and a new wave of tears run down his face. he's spluttering, and there's snot all over your shoulder. but you patiently hold him through it all, press kisses to his hair, gently telling him to let it all out.
"i've got you toji," you whisper. "you'll always be safe with me."
when he's finally settled, you're holding a water bottle to his lips, letting him drink as much as he wants, gently dragging a cool, damp washcloth over his face when he's had his fill. your gentleness and unfiltered love make him want to sob all over again. he's undeserving, he thinks, but he'll never be ungrateful for your love or take advantage of it. he'd do anything in power to become deserving of you and cherish you for as long as he lives.
he'll never be the man he once was. his wife's death had affected him deeply in ways he'll never recover (and part of him doesn't want to fully); she was the love of his life. but he's working on reconciling with what he's becoming and the way you've impacted his life, too.
he feels guilty for loving you sometimes, the way he loved his late wife. you've experienced things with megumi his wife could only dream of. megumi loves you like a mother figure, and sometimes he finds himself loathing the fact. it's not your fault, though, and his therapist's words constantly play on his mind, forcing the negative thoughts out. it's getting better.
slowly but surely, toji is healing. his life wasn't always easy, full of hatred and anger. he's made so many mistakes, he has so many regrets (you'd never be one of them) and he's atoning for his sins. like sand during a storm in the desert, grain by golden grain, his life has been displaced with love. with his late wife's, with his little blessing's, and with yours.
he's loved and lost, and then lost a whole lot more. but now, he's been given the privilege of loving once more.
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© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.
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satorusugurugurl · 3 days
Text
My Wedding Date is an Escort!
Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one my, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.
Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader
Word Count: 2,055
Warning: Fluffy fluff! Happy endings 🥹💚
A/N: And with that, My Wedding Date is an Escort is complete! I am open to writing one shots for our fluffy couple if y’all have any requests! God this has been a journey thank you all so much for the love and support!! I hope you continue to enjoy my other series as well! 💚💚💚
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven
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Epilogue:
Two Years Later.
Gojo stirred in bed, reaching for your side and finding it cold like every other morning. He knew where you were from the smell of cinnamon rolls baking downstairs. He fucking loved cinnamon rolls. Satoru walked out into your living room with a stretch and a yawn before strutting towards the stairs that led down to the bakery.
You stood there talking to one of your customers, handing them a bright pink box tied with a white ribbon. He stood at the top of the stairs, just watching you for the longest of times. You moved elegantly over the floor to the display case packaging and different pastries for your customers. Before heading into the back, one of your workers took over for you.
Seizing the opportunity, Satoru followed you through the metal swinging door into the back. You stood there, checking the contents inside the oven. When you had your back turned, he snuck up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. The sudden contact had you jumping at first before you turned to look over your shoulder up at him.
“Good morning,” he said in a gruff voice.
“Mornin’ Toru.” Soft lips pressed lovingly against his cheek. “I made you an omelet. It’s in the microwave.”
“Fuuuck,” he happily sighed, “I love you so damn much.”
Turning to face him, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to your lips. “Mmm, I love you too, Toru.” Satoru kissed you back eagerly, his hands gripping your hips, pulling your flesh against him. “Ah, Toru~!” Giggles were music to his ears; he growled, wanting to do nothing more than toss your pastries to the ground and take you into the kitchen. “Satoru~ haaah,” You gasped as his lips hurriedly trailed down your neck. “We can't.”
“Yes, we can~” he growled hungrily, “come on, I'll be fast.”
For a second, Satoru could see your eyes searching for a place where you two could have a quickie. Just as you were pulling him to the very back, where the cooling racks would conceal you, the door to the front swung open, and Suguru walked in, duffle bag over his shoulder, backpack on his back. The three of you froze as Suguru glanced between you two, his face twisting into a look of disgust.
“Please tell me,” Suguru pinched the bridge of his nose. “you both weren't about to fuck back here.”
“W-What! N-No!” of course, you would be the first to deny his accusation, quickly shaking your head.
Your boyfriend, on the other hand, pouted, throwing his head back in dismay. “Such a cock block Suguru!” Both of his best friends turned to stare at him. The silence was palpable until Suguru groaned, his eyes landing on you, giving you the most disappointing look he could muster.
“Really?”
“S-Suguru, I can explain.”
“I should report your ass to the health department.” He teased, striding forward and smacking Satoru upside the head. “Stop corrupting my best friend, you horny blue-eyed freak.”
Satoru gasped dramatically, placing his hand over his chest. Faux hurt, painting his face as he furrowed his brows together. A look that didn’t stop Suguru from snatching a strawberry off the counter and popping it in his mouth. Not that it phased you as you walked back to the oven, pulling out a tray.
“I thought I was your best friend?!”
“Nah, I like your girlfriend more.” Suguru tossed a strawberry at you. “Even if she's a little freak, too.”
You placed the cookie tray on the counter, tossing an oven mitt back at Suguru. “Hey, I was minding my own business! Satoru’s the one that woke up and chose to be horny.” Satoru slowly smirked, nodding his head.
“Can't help it; seeing the cute pastry chef working in my bakery just does things for me.” Both you and Suguru turned to stare at him. “Wanted to bring you back here and give you an in-depth evaluation.”
“Gross.” Suguru chucked a strawberry at Satoru’s face.
“I didn't know you were my ‘boss’ last time I checked; You lived with me.” You put both hands on your hips, smirking as Satoru blinked.
“Live with you?” Satoru gaped, eyes turning towards a smirking Suguru. “Did I, or did I not invest in her shop?”
“Technically, he did.”
Satoru strode forward, cupping your cheek. “He just wants me for my pastries.” You teased, standing on your tiptoes and kissing him.
“That and your body.” he teased, kissing you back, growling against your lips.
“Oh my god, please stop. We have a train to catch.” Suguru grumbled, rolling his eyes at the groan from his best friend.
“Suguru’s right, baby; hurry and eat.”
Satoru grabbed the omelet from the microwave, pausing to look down at you. “Say~ you busy on Saturday?”
There’s a certain sparkle in your eyes, one that has Satoru head over heels. You tilt your head to the side, glancing up at the ceiling and thinking. “Hmm, I have a wedding to go to.” Satoru’s chest swells with excitement as he eats some of his food.
“Oh really?”
“Mhmm~!”
“Need a date?”
“Oh yeah, I totally need one.”
The adoration and love in your eyes mirrored his own. “Great, sounds like we got a plan.” He lovingly kissed you on the forehead. “Three days, sweetheart! Three days!” Satoru ran up the stairs, humming happily; three days to him would feel like three decades. Saturday, needed to hurry up and get here already!
Luckily for Satoru, three days flew by. His stomach fluttered as Suguru smoothed out his suit jacket. Suguru’s eyes focused on his best friend's neck, where he could see his racing pulse.
“You remember what you told me when you got back from Kyoto two years ago?”
“Uh, thanks for telling me I was a fucking idiot?” Satoru said before taking a deep breath.
Suguru laughed, shaking his head. “You said that which you're still welcome for.” The dark-haired man straightened his back before patting his best friend on the shoulder. “You told me you found the one. Then proceeded to ask me to be a witness at your wedding.” Blue eyes followed Suguru; he looked at himself in the mirror, fixing his jacket. “I honestly thought you were out of your mind back then.” Satoru was a second away from recording back with a snarky remark. “But, I’m happy to admit I was wrong, and you were right. She is the one meant for you.” without another word, Suguru pulled his best friend into a tight embrace.
“Suguru—”
“I’m happy for both of you.” Silence spreads between the two. “But if you hurt her, I will kill you myself.”
A knock at the door sent the two men flying back from each other. “Satoru.” Your mother peeked her head inside. “It’s time.” she has tears in her eyes as Satoru takes a final deep breath.
“If you’ll excuse me, I have a wedding date to get to!”
Two years ago, he received a call from a girl desperate for a wedding date. The same girl had proceeded to steal his heart over the course of a week. In two years, the two of you had moved in together, shared meals with one another, and planned a future together. A future that had come true thus far.
You owned your bakery, and Satoru helped manage it with you, being your number one customer and investor. The two of you happily lived in the loft above the shop, furnished to make it your home. Everything you both wanted had come true. Today, you both will finalize the plans that you had made two years prior.
Satoru stood in the gardens of your family's inn, decorated with vibrant flowers. He watched as your closest friends walked down the aisle one after another in pairs, but he honestly didn't care about them. All that mattered to him was seeing you.
His wish was granted as the official told the guest in front of him to stand. His eyes met yours down the aisle, his breath catching in his throat at your breathtaking appearance. Your wedding gown was elegant and suited you perfectly. Showing off your figure, he loved it so remarkably much. Your face was visible behind the veil, and your eyes never left his as your father led you down the aisle toward him.
Satoru felt his eyes burning as tears streamed down his cheeks. How was it possible for you to look even more stunning than you already did? You are like a goddess compared to him.
Suguru gently pats his shoulder, grinning as his best friend wipes uselessly at his eyes. He finally regained some form of composure once you’re standing before him, taking his hand in your own. His heart is thundering as he pulls you in and turns to the official with the biggest smile. He had told your mother two years ago that the next wedding they hosted at the inn would be yours.
And he had been faithful to his words.
The ceremony was sweet and quick; you exchanged your vows and beamed at the official. “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride!” Satoru threw your veil back, cupped your face, and kissed you as if the word was ending.
The crowd cheered and clapped as you both held hands, running up the aisle and back into the gardens. The second you were away from peering eyes, Satoru kissed you again, and again, and again until pulling away with a happy sigh. You felt lighter than air as his cerulean eyes roamed over your face.
“I think that was the best wedding date I’ve ever been on.” You proudly announced as he intertwined your fingers.
“Is that so, Mr. Gojo?” Your husband perks up, eyes darting down at you with sparkles in them.
“Why yes, Mrs. Gojo, it was.” You giggle at the use of your new last name. “Ooh, someone likes that new name~!!”
You shake your head, grinning softly. “No, I don't like it.” For a moment, you think Satoru is about to die of shock. “I love it!”
Satoru breathed a sigh of relief before cupping your face in his hands and kissing you as passionately as he could. With wide eyes, you moan into the kiss as he pushes the toy back against the wall of the inn. One hand grabs your hip, and the other remains on your face. You melt against him as he pulls back, your hot, desperate breath mingling together before he squeezes your hip, meeting your lips again, this time with a gentler kiss.
“And I love you. I hope you got enough sleep in the last two years, because I plan on showing you how much I love you on our honeymoon.”
“Oh my god, Toru~!” A squeal of pure joy rocks through you as he lifts you up carrying you across the gardens towards the photographers.
“Hey~ save that for the honeymoon suite baby~!” Your giggled as you both took the steps towards you very long and happy marriage. A marriage that all started with a wedding date.
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harunayuuka2060 · 12 hours
Text
Riddle: What kind of meeting is this...
Vil and Lilia: *shipping Silver and Yuurin together*
Trey: I'm surprised you tagged along, Riddle.
Riddle: Lilia-senpai dragged me.
Trey: I figured.
Vil: So how did the test go?
Lilia: Absolute perfection.
Vil: Tell me how it went.
Lilia: *asking Yuurin and Silver this question "What's something you read from books you would like to make someday?"*
*Note: Silver and Yuurin were in different places and had no knowledge they were asked the same question.*
Yuurin/Silver: Tree bed.
Vil: *laughs*
Riddle and Trey: ...
Trey: I don't get it.
Riddle: It refers to the cleverly crafted bed that Odysseus and Penelope share. It's made from the trunk of an ancient olive tree that grows through the center of their bedroom.
Riddle: Odysseus built this bed himself, and its unique construction serves as a test of Penelope's faithfulness and Odysseus's identity when he returns home in Homer's epic poem, the Odyssey.
Lilia: Thank you for explaining that, Riddle.
Trey: But... why were you so happy when Yuurin and Silver gave that answer?
Vil: Isn't it obvious? Their minds are alike.
Lilia: Vil and I have decided to be their wingmen.
Trey: ...
Riddle: Is Leona-senpai aware of this?
Vil and Lilia: He doesn't need to know.
Riddle: ...
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moondirti · 2 days
Note
ghoap x nanny on🔝
they would go bananas trying to find her a Mother’s Day gift because even though she’s not she’s still so important to baby isla
UK mother's day is in march but i'm putting this out for the US folk <3 also not part of the main series! takes place an undefined period of time later, where isla is about 1 yr old, so the end of part 2 doesn't hold weight here
"Stop messin' with it. You'll ruin the wrap job."
"I'm tryin' tae curl th' ribbon. Eejit at the store forgot tae add th' mae touches." Johnny presses his thumb to the blade, tongue poked in concentration as he follows the tutorial. The lady in the video makes it look so easy, dragging her grip along the length of a blue streamer so that it jumps into a little ringlet when she releases. "Ye think women dinnae notice these touches but thay do. I had tae specially instruct th' flower guy up in Glasgow ower th' phone tae make sure he wrapped mah maw's bouquet in brown paper, fur apparently there's a difference."
But all the scot manages to do is slice his thumb open with Simon's knife, blood beading along the wounded site. He jerks away before it can stain the present, popping the digit into his mouth while begrudgingly handing the tools over to his partner.
Who does it with ease.
"Tha' wasn't so hard, was it?"
"Awa' n bile yer heid." Johnny grumbles, twisting his head to check out the window. "She said she'll be back by now."
"Who'll be back by now?"
The sing-song voice catches them both off guard, the pair clambering to hide the subject of their concentration, open-mouthed as you slip out of your pastel yellow galoshes by the door. An impish smile splits your cheeks, positively delighted by the fact that you were able to sneak up on them.
Isla shouts an approximation of your name from her playpen, pulling herself into a stand and waving her little arms around until you swoop in to pick her up. Simon feels his heart race, anticipation coating his palms in sweat as you sway with their little girl bunched in your arms.
"My little Isla-bug! Missed you so much baby." You coo, pressing kisses to her cheek. But Isla isn't interested in greetings. She squeals, legs flailing and finger pointing accusatorially at her fathers.
"Bug! Bug! Da an' Pa!"
"Are Da and Papa bugs too?" Johnny shuffles in place, scratching the back of his neck when you waltz suspiciously towards him. Almost as if you're trying to sniff out the clues the baby lays out for you, like a little detective duo. "Do they have a bug?"
"Yer a wee clipe you." He narrows his eyes at Isla, bumping noses when she giggles at his feigned grumpiness.
"Don't tell me you actually do." You straighten seriously, frowning once you notice the hand Simon keeps behind his back. "Si, I swear to God. I swear to God if that's a bug you're hiding I'll scream. I'll tell Price–"
That does it. He extends the gift before you misinterpret this further and make good on your threat. He can only imagine the awkward phone call with the Captain, who favours you more than he does his own team sometimes. It would not bode over well.
"Happy mother's day, love."
You clamp a hand over your mouth, eyes immediately glossing up in tears.
They discussed who would do this part – this vulnerable profession of how much you mean to them, to Isla. Because you're not her mum. Your name isn't on any of the adoption paperwork. You'd only come into her life when she was five months old, and there's no legal or biological ties linking the two of you together, or you to the boys. Just this human, very fragile bond you've forged over the past year. Something undefined, unnamed, but so magnanimous in its existence that it cannot continue existing without acknowledgement.
And while Johnny felt like the natural choice, Simon knew it'd mean so much more if it came from him. He's the one with the history, after all. The one who denied you a place in their life, again and again. Who wrote off your bids to help and took you for granted until it damn near drove you away for good.
It's clear that it hits you hard.
You pass Isla over to Johnny so as to hug yourself, staving off the waterworks by biting your lip. For a moment, that's all you do. Stand there and stare down at the wrapping paper with all the apples on it, the sleek coiled ribbons. Simon's hand shakes a little, unsure, but then you take it and crush him into a hug so tight, it's almost instinctual to push you off.
He doesn't, of course. Instead, his arms curl around your smaller form, cold fingers warming themselves on the curve of your shoulder.
"Thank you." You sniff from against his chest, then gracefully step back to address Johnny too. "Both of you. I can't– I'm so overwhelmed, I don't know what to say. Can I open it?"
"O' course." Johnny nods, sitting back on the couch and patting the open space next to him. Isla pulls on his overgrown mohawk, but the pain is nothing compared to the joy warming his heart. You're so beautiful like this. Flustered. Emotional. He could just bundle you up and hold you forever.
The bow comes undone with one tug. You take your time with the wrapping paper, though, peeling the tape off gently so it doesn't take off the pattern underneath. Your boys sit on either side of you, arched over like a pair of nervous schoolboys.
"My–"
It's a charm bracelet. Dainty gold links extended to the exact circumference of your wrist. Relatively empty, save for a few exchangeable starter baubles and a ladybug charm that hangs right at the centre.
"Bug!"
You laugh like summer rain. "That's right! It is a bug, clever girl. Can you say ladybird?"
"Lalalalala–"
"She'll get i' soon." Johnny smiles. Simon offers a large hand, slipping the bracelet out of it's box. You give him your wrist, and he clasps it shut around.
"Fits like a glove." He murmurs.
Ladybugs for fortune and grace.
You're their stroke of good luck.
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vivwritesfics · 2 days
Text
Bleeding From The Storm
Chapter Four - Bunny
After the death of his son, the head of the Dupont family wants his daughter protected. He moved her to Monaco, the safe zone, and has her protected by Charles Leclerc. Max Verstappen was never supposed to meet her. He didn't even know who she was. But he knew she was beautiful, and he knew he wanted to know more, much to the horror of Charles Leclerc.
1.9K
Warnings: smut! P in v! Oral (male!receiving)
Series Masterlist
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Max hated these kinds of meetings. Standing by his fathers side, looking like some loyal dog. But he came when he was called, so what more was he?
As ever, Max stood at his fathers side, waiting for Dupont and his guest to arrive. The Verstappen meeting room was pathetic. It was designed like a throne room, with Max stood beside the 'Throne' as his father looked down on his guests.
It was meant to make Jos feel powerful, Max knew. It made him smirk. The only reason his father had power in the first place was because of his kill streak, something Max had quite easily already doubled.
The doors flew open and Dupont strode in. It was like something out of a period piece, the way he approached Jos' 'Throne'. Max half expected him to drop onto his knee, head bowed and hand on the pommel of a sword that wasn't there.
That, of course, didn't happen.
"Dupont," called Jos, his demeaner that same calm that he usually wore in front of his guests. Max knew a different side of his father, the side that would strike first and ask questions later. Even against his own children. "You don't normally travel alone."
Looking back on it, the smile Dupont wore was sickening. He was lucky Max didn't shoot him where he stood. Given another chance, if he could have gone back and done it all over again, he would have.
"Verstappen, you know I never travel alone," said Dupont, that sickening smile widening. The doors were thrown open again, and Max hated the way his breath caught in his throat.
She couldn't have been there. She knew Charles Leclerc, but that meant nothing. Why the fuck was she here?
"This is my daughter," said Dupont as she came to stand beside him. He announced her name to the room and she finally looked up, finally looked at Max.
He bit his tongue as she looked at him, recognition crossing her face. But she easily schooled her features, that pretty smile he hadn't stopped thinking about since he met her crossing her lips. "It is lovely to meet you, sir," she said as she strode towards Jos with her hand outstretched.
In Jos' typical, misogynistic fashion, he ignored her in favour of her father. "Isn't this a treat?" Called Jos as Max took her hand in his, shook it and squeezed. He hoped it was at least a little reassuring. "Much more my style than your usual company."
The polite, pretty smile dropped from her face at that. She returned to her fathers side, but even that didn't make her feel safe. Max could see it by the look on her face. She didn't belong in this room, a room that had seen so much destruction and death, standing with the men that had caused it.
Max stepped towards his fathers 'Throne'. He leaned down and whispered something in Jos' ear. When Jos nodded, he stepped towards the Duponts. Stopping in front of her, he offered her his hand.
When her father nodded, she took Max's hand and allowed herself to be led out of the room. "Hey, Bun," he whispered as he pulled the door shut behind them. And suddenly, she was shy beneath his gaze. "Why didn't you tell me you were going to be here?"
"Well, I didn't know," she said as she stepped towards him, hands smoothing over his suit jacket. "If I knew you were gonna be here, I would have been a lot more willing."
She wrapped her arms around his neck, but Max gently removed them. "Angel," he said, the nickname easily slipping from his lips. "I'm not started a war with Charles Leclerc because he think's I'm stepping on his toes."
She glared at a spot on his white shirt, someone else's blood that had definitely stained. "Charlie always ruins my fun," she mumbled and folded her arms over her chest. "That asshole can't even let me have fun in a completely different country."
Max didn't try to hide his confusion. "Wait," he began, brows furrowed. "Charles isn't your boyfriend?"
She was laughing at him, but it was such a pretty laugh that he didn't much mind. He could listen to it all day, even if it was at his expense. "Boyfriend? No way," she said, tongue poking between her teeth as she laughed. "He's more like an overly enthusiastic guard dog."
"So, if he saw us now, he'd chop off my balls?" Max challenged.
The smirk that crossed her features was so fucking pretty. But Max wasn't afforded much time to appreciate it. She stepped towards him, one hand settling on the back of his neck as the other ghosted over the button of his trousers, cupping his cock through the fabric. "Holy shit, he couldn't breathe.
"Angel," he said with warning, and she didn't bother to correct him.
"Charles would have your balls in a vice," she said and gave a light squeeze. "But I like to think I'm worth it."
Their fathers were in a business meeting in the next room, and they were meant to be keeping things professional. But those eight words were all it took before Max had her pressed against the wall, lips against her own. She couldn't stop herself from drawing in a breath, mouth opening enough for Max to slip his tongue inside.
Ever since they'd left that room, Max hadn't been the one in control. It had been her, her pretty smiles, pouts and touchers that had him practically bending to her every whim.
He pulled away, only to lean back in and drag her bottom lip between his teeth. "Angel," he said breathlessly, hands holding her lips. "We can't."
"I don't care," she replied, the words tumbling from her pretty lips. Threading her manicured nails through his hair, she pulled him in for another searing kiss. And, just like that, Max had handed all control over to her.
He would have taken her to a bedroom, would have loved to see her body between white sheets. But she was calling the shots, and Max soon realised that Angel wasn't as fitting a name as once thought.
She opened the first door she came to and pushed Max into the room. Except, it wasn't a room, was it? It was a stage closet, full of cleaning supplies.
Max shook his head as she looked around the small, dark space. "Let me take you to a bedroom, Angel," he said quietly.
Her only answer was to push the straps of her pretty, lilac dress down. Max's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets as she looked at her. He liked to think he had more self control, but he couldn't pull his eyes away from her breasts, or at least what he could see.
He was like a man possessed as he gently pushed her back against the wall and attached his lips to her own. It was rough, and forceful, her moans only spurring him on.
Max grabbed her leg and lifted it, wrapping it around him. She tugged at his hair and Max pressed his hips against her own, keeping her held against the wall.
"Fuck, Angel," he said through a moan.
Her hands were on his trousers again, popping the button, pulling down his zipper and reaching inside. But her touch was only brief. She pulled away to pull up her own skirts and move Max's hands to where she wanted him.
As soon as she had his hands under her skirts, Max squeezed the flesh of her ass. She let out a gasp, devilish smile playing on her lips as she reached back into his trousers. "That's better," she mumbled and pressed her lips against his neck.
His hand moved from her ass, ghosted over her hips, feeling the waistband of her panties. Light and lacy. She jutted her hip out, pushing it further into his hand. Max slipped his finger beneath the waistband and pulled back, letting it snap against her skin.
A breathy moan left her lips as she pulled away from his neck, leaving purple bruises behind. Max was still under her gaze as she took a moment to look at him, to admire her handiwork.
And then it was Max's turn. He leaned in and trailed his lips across her neck, down to her breasts. His fingers moved from her hip, coming to rest on her back. There was just a moment where he just kissed her skin. Not leaving any marks, hands still on her back as he kissed her skin. The little whines leaving her lips made it all worth it.
Max pulled down the zipper of her dress. The way he was holding her, though, it kept the dress against her body, maybe just slipping down a little bit.
He hadn't meant to check his watch. But they'd spent so much time doing this foreplay, they couldn't have had long "Angel-"
But she stepped away from him, let her dress fall to the floor and pulled down her panties. She held them up, delicate smile on her lips. "Are you gonna fuck me?" Shs whispered and tucked the panties into his pocket.
What more could Max say as he freed himself from his pants. She wordlessly dropped to her knees (she was far too pretty to be on her knees), and took his cock into her mouth.
Pretty, painted lilac fingers were wrapped around his cock and she swirled her tongue around his tip. Max couldn't stop his eyes from shutting as she moved, bobbing her head. "Holy fuck," Max gasped as he rested his hand on her head. He didn't push her, didn't speed her up, just held his hand there.
If she kept going like this, Max was going to cum. "Angel, please," Max whispered and she looked up at him through watery eyes. What a fucking sight.
She released him with a pop! and stood up. Wrapping her arms around his neck she pulled him back until he had her pressed against the wall. "Fuck me, Maxie," she whispered. "Make me scream."
He pulled her leg around him and guided himself inside. She had her head against his shoulder, sinking her teeth in as Max pushed himself through her folds. "That's it," he said as he held her. "You're doing so good."
She lifted her hand slightly, trembling as Max stilled inside of her. "Good girl," he whispered and kissed her cheeks.
Slowly, Max began moving his hips. He didn't pull back very far, keeping her held tight to him as he pushed back in. The noises she released from her throat were the sweetest. If he could have, Max would have listened to them on a loop for the rest of his life.
It wasn't like Max's usual sex. Usually it was rough, bruising touches as he fucked whoever he had taken back to his bed that night.
But this, it was sweet and slow. Max savoured every moment, the feeling of her cunt clenching around him, the way she gripped onto his shoulders. "Max," she cried, eyes shut. "I-"
"I've got you, Angel," he whispered. "Let go."
And she did. With one final high pitched cry, she let herself cum. Max held her, kept himself moving, helping her to ride out her high.
He could have cum inside of her, could have easily let himself fall over the edge as her cunt held him. But not today.
He pulled out and she let out a pitiful whine as he came on her stomach. Max helped her to the floor as she took her finger and wiped the cum from her stomach, bringing it to her lips.
Holy fuck, she was going to be the death of him.
a/n: I'm sorry for everyone that didn't get tagged in the last one!! Pls note chapter three exists and is on the series masterlist if you missed it
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