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#i keep thinking about what he's going to say
lowkeyren · 1 day
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reverse dating tropes w hsr men!
in which — what the title suggests / those classic fanfic tropes but with a twist
featuring — boothill, jing yuan, blade (separately) x gn!reader
✧.* — wc: total 1.5k, used up half my brain for this (the other half is for pt2 w aven sunday geppie!!), lovesick boothill + clingy jy + jealous blade fr, anyway pls enjoy! reblogs r appreciated <3
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boothill ꩜ .ᐟ
love at many sights with boothill whose memory card was tinkered with, and every time you meet, he thinks he's seeing you for the first time, so he falls for you over and over again. 
when boothill returned from a dangerous mission, it was evident that he had endured significant damage. his once sleek and polished exterior was now marred by dents and scratches, and his mechanical limbs were either partially missing or severely damaged. the exposed wiring, usually neatly tucked away beneath scraps of metals, now hung in tangled strands, sparking occasionally with residual energy.
he looked barely salvageable. it's safe to say that the mechanics had a hell of a time fixing him.
though they were skilled enough to piece him back together, his memory card wasn’t as lucky. a tinkering in his system left him incapable of recalling or retaining information in his synthetic brain, temporarily —leaving the mechanics scrambling to find a solution.
weeks later, you find yourself walking down the familiar corridors of the laboratory where your favourite cyborg is being held for reparation.
boothill’s eyes immediately land on yours when you enter the lab. “well ain’t this a surprise! haven’t seen ya in a good long while.” boothill drawls, tipping his hat your way, his voice carrying a metallic twang. 
"i heard you took a bit of a tumble, figured someone should come make sure you didn’t lose all your screws." you shrug nonchalantly, a smirk playing on your lips.
boothill's eyes flicker for a moment, taking in the curve forming on your lips. he thinks you’re adorable with that infectious smile of yours. 
“heh, nothin’ bad, just had a r-r-run in with some cuties" he says, failing to hide the glitch that caused his voice to stutter. (and that damn synesthesia beacon! he swears he’ll get it fixed this time around…)
“guess you took more than a tumble huh...” you lean casually against the workbench, the sterile scent of machinery and the hum of various devices filled the air; your gaze sweeps over the freshly repaired parts of boothill's metallic frame, “anyway, glad to see that you’re mostly fine now." 
“aww! do ya care ‘bout me?” he teases, his grin widening, revealing his pointy teeth peeking out mischievously. you don’t reply, your eyes glinting with the faintest hint of amusement dancing in them.
"boothill, we go through this every time, your memory card's still damaged. you forget things sometimes, so for the 5th time this week, yes i do care about you.”
boothill's expression shifts, a mixture of realization and sheepishness crossing his features. "right, right," he murmurs, scratching the back of his head with his metallic hand. "sorry 'bout that, sugar. guess i just keep forgettin'."
you chuckle and shake your head, finding the situation amusing. he feels like he might overheat from the sheer warmth radiating from your smile.
“you’re beautiful, date me.” (he didn’t mean to blurt that outloud)
you raise your eyebrows at the sudden compliment, “why thank you,” a surprised laugh escapes your lips.
“—and we’re already dating, silly.”
a shower of sparks erupts from his circuits, you can particularly hear the fans inside him sputter and whir. you rush to his side, concern etched on your face.
“wh- are you okay?! you’re short circuiting again!”
and this happens every time his memory lapses. you offer an apology to the mechanic on the next shift for the extra work required to fix yet another damaged wire after your visits. perhaps they should ban you from getting too close to boothill, lest he completely breaks down again like that one time where you told him, yes you actually kissed before.
jing yuan ୭ ˚.
"secret relationship" with jing yuan but he is completely unaware of how his public displays of affection towards you keep revealing the supposed secrecy of your relationship.
on the rare case that the general is found in his office, you are there too, beside him.
“pleeeease? just one kiss, really really miss you, darling”
“no jing yuan, not now…”
he wraps his arms around you as he leans in, caging you from the back. he rests his chin on your shoulder, “then how about a kiss on the cheeks?” he murmurs in your ear. you try to push him away, but he just chuckles softly against your neck, his arms still secure around you.
“no, and get off me before someone sees!” you protest, feeling your face flush from the close proximity, and the tightening of his arms suggests that he has no intention of releasing you just yet.
this stubborn man… you swear you’re gonna burst a blood vessel someday.
as if to echo your exasperation; he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, peppering it with nibbles and gentle kisses. jing yuan certainly knows how to test your limits, yet his affectionate gestures never fail to chip away at your resolve.
suddenly, a series of loud knocks come from the door, you freeze, and immediately attempt to wiggle your way out of his grasp. but he remains unfazed, his hold on you firm, and seemingly unbothered by the interruption.
the door bursts open, “general! there’s a situation at starskiff ha—ven...”  yanqing trails off as his eyes widen at your position. the room falls into a momentary silence as yanqing's gaze shifts between you and his general, his expression reflecting a blend of shock and embarrassment.
clearing his throat awkwardly, yanqing stammers, "i-im sorry for interrupting... i’ll t-take my leave now!” with a hurried nod, he practically sprints out of the room.
oh bless that kid’s poor eyes… 
you shoot a glare at jing yuan from the corner of your eyes, you just know that he has a shit eating grin on his face right now. nowadays, it’s probably common knowledge that the general’s most treasured person is you, evidently shown by how he latches himself onto you every time you’re within his vicinity. you wouldn’t be surprised if the entirety of xianzhou knows about your supposed “secret” relationship.
“so… can i have my kiss now?” 
aeons, he’s insufferable. (you love him tho!!!!!)
blade ؛ ଓ
"fake dating" with blade but you are actually dating —somehow everyone is convinced you aren't.
“blink twice if you need help.” march whispers-shout; dan heng leans against the doorway, blocking the way into your room, nods in agreement.
“this is absurd… i’m alright guys, really!” you try to reassure your friends, frustration edging into your voice. though no matter how many times you insist that no blade isn't holding you hostage and that you are indeed in a relationship with him, they seem convinced otherwise, somehow deducing that you're not able to speak freely.
you sigh in resignation, knowing that they aren’t going to relent anytime soon, and with blade idling in your room, you can't afford to keep him waiting any longer. “dan heng please, let me through, he’s been waiting for me for the past 10 minutes now…”
“good, let him wait.” dan heng responds curtly. (what a guy)
march takes hold of your hands, “do you owe the stellaron hunters something, and him out of everyone?! he looks scary…and totally not your type!” 
“not their type?” a low voice rings out from behind dan heng, the three of you turn immediately and see blade looming at your doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. 
“stellaron hunter. stay back.” dan heng furrows his eyebrows, his stance defensive as he pulls out his weapon, positioning himself to block you and march. sensing the growing tension, you step forward, reaching out to gently grasp at dan heng’s shoulder. 
(blade’s expression darkens at your hand resting on him)
“it’s okay dan heng, he means no harm.” dan heng hesitates, his grip on his weapon remains tight, but he doesn't move to strike. so you slowly move between him and blade, “see? i’m fine… he’s not gonna hurt me.” you smile reassuringly at your friends. 
just then, as if to further aggravate dan heng, blade settles his hand on your waist. dan heng’s hand is visibly twitching now. “what? can’t i touch what’s mine?”
dan heng’s eyes narrow, “...we still don’t believe you, leave now. before it’s too late.”
before you can interject, blade grabs your chin, silencing any words of protest with a sudden kiss. caught off guard, your eyes widen as the unexpected gesture leaves you momentarily stunned. but you soon reciprocate his kiss, his intensity drawing you in.
(march quickly covers her eyes with her hands)
“there. now leave us alone.” and with that, he pulls you into your room, slamming the door shut behind, pinning you against it. 
it’s just the both of you now, finally.
“did you really have to touch him.” his voice tinged with possessiveness. “blade, he would’ve hurt you, i didn’t mean—” he shuts you up with another kiss, more desperate this time, welp guess you’re stuck with him for the night.
though your friends might not believe that a person like you would “be in cahoots” with someone as dangerous as him; convincing them otherwise is a task for another time. tonight, he wants your attention focused solely on him, and him only.
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ivysangel · 2 days
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WHERE ARE YOU TONIGHT? (JASON TODD)
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NOTES/CW - mild angst but it's short lived, porn with plot, mutual masturbation, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, shower sex, happy ending, the endings a little rushed, i think that's all?
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It was the early hours of the morning, and you had been "sleeping" restlessly all night. The worry of something happening to Jason loomed in the darkness every time you closed your eyes. Tiredness weighed you down, but it was no match for the sickening feeling in your gut that came around every time he was a little late coming home. It didn't matter how long it had been since you started dating him; you found that nothing eased the nerves or the ache when you started to overthink about what he could possibly be doing at that moment instead of being beside you. 
Hot water runs down your chest, and you crane your neck away from the heavy streams coming from your showerhead. Steam curls up and out of the shower, dampening the ceiling with tiny droplets of water. And the heat doesn't do much for your mind but it does ease the physical ache that comes with sleep deprivation. That's not what you needed right now though; what you needed were the thoughts of Jason dying alone, again, out of your head.
Your hand reaches for the knob and turns it the absolute farthest it would go, and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to block out your surroundings and the familiarity of this space you'd shared with him so many times. 
Jason, Jason, Jason. Where was he? 
The jarring sound of metal sliding across metal invades your ears and is quickly followed by the presence of someone else entering the cramped space. "Did you hear me? I was calling your name."
There he was.
The feeling of his arms around your waist brings you back to reality. His voice could have just been your head messing with you, but this, him wrapped around you, this was real. "How was patrol?" You say carefully, trying to keep your words, even for fear that he'll hear the distress in your voice. "You're home later than usual." He noses at your neck, and he hums into the skin, water pelting his head and soaking his hair. You bring your hand up to his wet locks, rubbing gently, deciding not to ask again, knowing he wouldn't answer anyway.
His fingers knead at the flesh on your hips as you both just stand there in the scalding hot water. "I missed you." You say, feeling him exhale deeply into your neck and slide his hands further up your body. Large, warm hands find your breasts, squeezing lightly. He breathes in your scent, a comfort to him after a long night of taking out criminals, something to ground him the same way he grounds you. He pinches at your nipple, rolling it around and tugging lightly, and your breath hitches at the stimulation of the lewd action. 
"Did you miss me?" You sounded desperate, pathetic even, like you were begging for your life when you really were just craving his affection. He laughs wryly, head lifting from out of the crevice of your neck, and his lips find the space behind your ear.
He presses a kiss to the skin and brings his head down again to nip at your earlobe. "You always ask me that," he says lowly, the bass in his voice reverberating against your eardrum. "I just wanna know." 
One of his hands slowly drags down your chest, over the hill of your chest, and you moan at the warmth spreading through your body. "You're too..." he moves further down your torso, "in your head sometimes." Lower and lower, "but it's okay," until it settles between the wet heat between your legs, "I can fix it."
He rubs gently, pointer finger ghosting over your clit, while he presses his boner into you. You hadn't even realized how turned on you were until this very moment, until you were suddenly all too aware of how close he was to you, drenched in water and naked. His thumb presses the sensitive nub between your legs, the added pressure making your back arch into him, feeling his dick dig into the soft flesh of your ass. 
"You know I love you, right?" He asks, rubbing small quick circles into your clit, earning a gasp from you. "You do, right?" You swallow hard, nodding your head while one of your hands finds its way to your lonely breast while the other slips behind you to Jason's crotch. "Mmm, that's right, I know you do."
You feel around for his cock, the task made more difficult by the fuzziness clouding your brain from the thick finger that was slowly making its way into your cunt. The size of your hand was nothing compared to the size of his dick; his erection was heavy in your hand, radiating heat and weighing it down, but god, did you need it in you. 
You stroke from the base to the tip, using his pre-cum as lube, and he groans into the side of your neck. His thumb leaves your clit as his middle finger joins in on stretching you out. Two thick fingers sit deep in your cunt, curling into your sweet spot, the sensation sending chills down your spine. The pitter-pattering conceals the squelching sounds of Jason fucking his fingers into you and the pornographic moans escaping your lips.
Long, slow strokes of his dick become short and shallow as you jerk him off while his fingers continuously move in and out of you. You attempt to focus on the task at hand, getting him off, but your breath quickens, and you go weak in the knees as your climax approaches. The tingling of your nerves puts you on edge, and you have to refrain from squeezing his dick too hard as you get lost in pleasure.
The water's almost run cold by now, and every single drop should feel like a piece of hail on your skin, but it doesn't. The nearly ice-cold droplets don't compare to the temperature of your body when he's got you riled up like this. Your climax was quickly approaching, and you knew Jason's was, too, by the way his groans and grunts were becoming more frequent. He had started rocking his hips back and forth into your hand, and you were sure your fingers would be painted in cum sometime soon. "I'm sorry, baby," He mutters, "Sorry for what I'm about to do." it comes out breathlessly, and if you were facing him, he'd see the confused expression etching itself on your face. "But it'll be worth it. Promise."
His words are followed by an unwelcome emptiness, one that leaves you clenching around nothing, aching to be filled once more. He withdraws his fingers from your cunt with a pop that you can't hear but definitely can feel, and his hand grabs your wrist, stopping you from jerking him any longer. You turn to face him, ready to object, and plead, and beg on your knees if you had to, but you never get the chance.
His hands cup your cheeks, and he kisses you deeply, your mouths falling into a familiar synchronization. "Feel like I can't fuck you without kissing you first." You finally get a good look at him for the first time since he'd gotten home, hair wet and eyes green as ever, strong features looking especially intimidating in the dim lighting of your bathroom, and muscles earned from years of training littered with bruises he'd ice when you weren't around.
While you find yourself admiring his features, he takes your shoulders in his hands and gently pushes you up against the shower wall. Gripping your thigh, he lifts your leg up and aligns himself with your entrance. He pushes inside of you with a deep groan and stills himself for a few seconds so you can adjust to the stretch. It's a dull pain, an intense throb deep in your womb that leaves your legs weak and you more wet than anything.
He keeps your leg up and places his palm flat on the shower wall, bracing himself before drawing out of you completely and plunging back inside. His hips rock rhythmically, each pump of his cock leaving you holding onto him for dear life. His hand curls into a fist against the wall, and you know he's close, already having been wound up from fucking your hand earlier. He towers over you, wet hair hanging in his face, muscles tensed, as he loses himself in the feeling of you wrapped around him.
You bring your arm up around his neck, pulling him as close as you can without causing you guys to slip. His breath is hot on your face, combatting the chilliness of the water, and you're hard-pressed not to kiss him, but you couldn't, not when you were so close to release, not when you wanted to see his face when he came.
You bring your hand between the two of you, rubbing your clit, trying to bring yourself over the edge, and he lifts your leg higher and buries himself even deeper. A loud moan slips out of your mouth and echoes off the walls as he hits that soft spongy spot deep in your cunt again and again. Soon enough, the knot in your stomach completely unravels, and you tremble as your orgasm washes over you, his big arms keeping you upright as your eyes roll back. 
Your eyes flutter open just in time to see his face contort. Brows furrowed, and jaw clenched as his hips stutter, pace faltering as he's sent off the deep end. His grunts get louder, and he begins to sound almost animalistic until he lets out one final sound, long and drawn out as he fills your guts. 
The both of you stand there, catching your breath as the shower rains down on you, skin dripping and water pooling at your feet. Your chest heaves, and your eyes close to avoid drops of water getting in your eyes. He pulls out slowly, giving you time to adjust to the emptiness before gently letting go of your leg and helping you stand up straight. His hand finds the shower knob, turning until the water stops, and you admire him from behind as he steps out of the shower, grabbing a couple of towels.
"Do you get it now?" He asks, holding open a towel, waiting for you to step into it. "Get what?" you ask, using the wall to hold yourself up, legs still weak from Jason being so deep in you just a few moments ago. "Get that I love you?" 
His arms wrap around you, tucking the towel into itself before pulling you close and bringing his lips to your forehead. His lips are warm, and he smells nice, like a mixture of soap and gunpowder. Ironic because he didn't wash and will probably hop back in the shower when you're fast asleep. 
He looks down at you earnestly, waiting for a response to his question, and you would call him ridiculous, but you know he needs to hear this just as much as you need to hear him say that he loves you in the first place. "Yes," you nod. "I know that you love me."
"Good."
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edited this for like four hours so if there are any typos and errors that's just what the universe intended.
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sabertoothwalrus · 21 hours
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I'm going to think out loud about the dungeon meshi ages for a sec
I'm going to preface this by saying that this is based on my existing knowledge, and fact checking is difficult because there is A LOT of contentious research out there.
First of all, I think a lot of people come at this from a modern lens, forgetting the context that this is fantasy medieval era. this is fiction. on top of that, this is specifically Ryoko Kui's understanding of medieval era aging. plus fantasy. So before anyone comes at me with a bunch of 'ermmmm actualy's just consider that I don't really care and also it might not matter in this context lol
as far as the "age of maturity" assigned for each race, something I don't see many people talk about is that "teenagers" are a fairly recent concept. For a long time, you were either considered A Kid or Not A Kid. but this doesn't necessarily mean kids were more/less developed then, just our cultural expectations for certain age groups have changed.
Laios says the age of maturity for tallmen is 16. I don't think that means 16 year olds in the dungeon meshi universe are necessarily "more mature" than modern 16 year olds, but moreso that they have more responsibilities. However, things like medicine, smoking, drinking, sun exposure, physical activity, etc all affect age, so it's possible that developmentally they're closer to modern 18 year olds? Izutsumi is 17 (less than two weeks from turning 18, actually), and very much acts like a modern 17 year old.
The age of maturity for half-foots is 14. Chilchuck was 13 when he got married and had his first two children. Even though, at age 29, he's the equivalent of a modern 50 year old, I don't think he was That much more developed at 13 than a tallman. I think if half-foot 14 is equal to tallman 16, then Chilchuck was Pretty Damn Young for a parent LMAO. Even if you're generous and say tallman 16 is a modern 18, he still would've been younger than that.
The long-lived races are interesting. Marcille is obviously a unique case, and not a lot of this applies to her. We do know what Senshi was like as a minor (miner, lol), and he seemed like a modern 15ish, considering he was 36 and dwarf maturity is 40. I think it'd be really interesting to delve into how a culture functions with people being developmentally adolescent for soooooo long. Imagine middle school lasting 20 years. that would fucking suck. I suppose it makes sense why long-lived races are so patronizing.
Moving onto lifespans, I want to emphasize that they're average lifespans. Even in the manga, they say some half-foots live to 100, it's just rare. So it's less that a tallman 60 year old is "older" than a modern 60 year old, it's that it's easier to keep people alive for longer nowadays. Modern medicine is a BIG contributor. Dental health as well, considering how much your health is affected by your diet (and how much the action of chewing alone aids in digestion). Curious to know what the FUCK elven dentistry is like.
It also makes me wonder if half-foots would have a longer average lifespan if they weren't like, used for bait and treated so poorly, but half-foot 29 does seem to be middle-aged for half-foots. so who knows!
In that vein, I don't know if I can see Mithrun quite making it to 400 😬 like, his experience as a dungeon lord took a lot out of him quite literally, and he's doing exceptionally well despite it! I imagine he'd eventually start to develop a lot of heart problems if he doesn't have them already. Perhaps early-onset dementia. His memory seems still quite intact (he corrects Kabru on his story's accuracy) and he doesn't act like, lobotomized. He doesn't seem forgetful or confused, and he has a sense of humor/sarcasm still. It's mostly his task initiation that's been affected.
I almost want to say that mana affinity could affect long-lived races' lifespans, except dwarves have very poor tolerance for mana, so it's probably not that.
okay anyway I didn't really have a point to this post so I'm just gonna end my rambling here
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linoveins · 2 days
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kitty keychains and pudding paybacks
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best friend!minho can't help but recall memories of him and fem!reader in the middle of their grocery trip
this is part 2 of silky shorts and stained shirts
genre: fluff, smut, angst (a little), college au
warnings: MDNI! condescending dom!minho, sub!reader, reader is physically sensitive, reader is inexperienced, minho and reader are not straight, pet names, grinding, nipple play, marking, praise, dirty talk, p in v, minho has a huge dick, a bit of pain from sex (just a little), oral f receiving, fingering, minho is really possessive, minho is an idiot when it comes to feelings
w.c.: 11.9k
a/n: i swore part 2 would be sweet, smutty, and simple but my fingers slipped and now we're at 11.9k words T_T hope it isn't too much! i rlly enjoyed writing this i hope u enjoy reading it as well.
you flinch at the sudden flash of light as you stuff sushi in your mouth.
the perpetrator is across you, smiling stupidly while holding his stupid phone in his stupid hand. you notice the people who were just peacefully eating in the dim restaurant look at you both with a disapproving stare which makes you mumble out a quiet apology.
minho doesn’t seem to care, that idiot. you kick him below the table and he just giggles.
“delete that!” you whisper at him aggressively. you both know it’s useless. his phone is a growing waste of every single embarrassing picture and video clip ever taken of his friends. and as someone who’s with him like 90% of the time, you’re unfortunately 90% of his pesky camera roll.
“shh, go eat your food”, he hums, still grinning. 
“i was eating until i was so rudely interrupted.”
“in my defense, i didn't know the flash was on”, he retorts confidently as if that makes it better. “and most importantly, i’m storing memories. be grateful you have such a wonderful friend to do that for you. you suck at taking photos”, he argues.
he’s right. you don’t even have a quarter of the amount of photos he has. you keep reminding yourself to take more pictures for the memories since your memory itself sucks, but you always either forget or you’re too slow to capture the moment. minho says the growing amount of keychains on your phone case were the reason you’re so slow. as if he didn’t add onto your collection with a personalized keytag of jureumi. 
you watch minho watch you thinking about his words. annoying. you just poke your tongue out at him and he shakes his head at the childish display.
after a while, minho finishes his plate and you notice him eyeing yours. you already know what’s running through that pretty head of his. 
by your luck or maybe his excitement from planning his attack, he accidentally drops his chopsticks. 
as he’s reaching out for it under the table with a silent fuck, you insert a pretty good chunk of wasabi into the sushi and flip the piece so he won't notice. 
you eat the second to the last sushi. you know he’s looking at the very last one on your plate like the greedy man he is. you drink your water to hide your grin. 
like clockwork, he grabs the last sushi and shoots it in his mouth in record time, a smug look on his face just a split second before realizing his mistake.
gotcha, idiot. 
you swallow your water so fast so you won’t choke from laughter at seeing how red his neck and ears are getting.
he rushes for the water and starts cursing at you. it’s your turn to take an embarrassing photo of him. you’re quick this time. 
“you are evil!” he shouts, eyes a bit teary and lips red.
“if it isn’t the consequences of your own actions.”
minho continues downing liquid and you can’t help but stare. if it really isn’t the consequences of one’s actions.
his neck is all red and his lips are burning with the perfect shade of red adorning them. he’s swallowing the water and you follow the liquid that disappears past his lips and down his throat. he has such a pretty throat. you don’t understand how a person's adam’s apple can look so defined and delicious? you snap out of your staring and tell him you should head out soon for the groceries.
he nods, still glaring at you. you can tell from his faint smile he’s trying to contain that he’s not really mad.
the train to the supermarket is a bit packed. it’s the rush hour so you and minho are sitting together, both your thighs squished next to each other.
you notice minho’s ears are still red. no way he’s still affected by the wasabi? his eyes are closed and his jaw is clenched. you laugh.
“your ears are still red? that wasabi really did one on you!” 
minho rolls his eyes. it’s not the wasabi. not that you should know when you’re laughing like that anyway.
you sneakily bring out your phone but he hears the little clanging of the metals and he catches you sending the photo of him in the restaurant to han jisung of all people.
he snatches your phone from your hold to try and stop you, but it was already sent so you don’t make the extra effort to get it back. you grin in success and close your eyes while waiting for your stop.
you remember the first time you saw him. it was on this train on the way to university. you decided to leave early after having one of those moments of wanting to turn your life around at 3 am. 
you got aboard the 6 am train and there he was, some cute guy with glasses on and a hoodie. he had earphones on and his eyes were closed as he silently tapped his foot to whatever music he was playing. you couldn’t look away. not that you wanted to.
he had an intimidating aura to him which contrasted his cute face. you were a sucker for that so you decided to wake up early the next day too. maybe you’ll see him again.
and yet again, there he was. 
you woke up earlier again the next day. and the next. and then the next, until you formed a new habit of waking up early for the 6 am train even though your classes start at noon. 
you told yourself it was a good habit to form. you felt gratitude for the pretty boy on the train. you never approached him though. you didn't feel the need to. he never looked your way and you didn’t mind. it helped you develop a routine of waking up early and you were glad just for that. 
the speakers announce your stop and minho taps you gently upon noticing your eyes were closed. both of you got out of the train and walked towards the supermarket.
grocery shopping with you was one of minho’s favorite occurrences.
he didn’t think much of it, he just knew it was so much more fun when he’s with you. he always chalked it up to you simply being fun to hang out with and that you’re always able to match his sillier side. almost a little too well. maybe..
“ya! don’t buy too much of that!” he notices you stuffing your cart with 5 packages of the carbonara buldak which interrupted his wandering thoughts.
“it’s my money? it’s the perfect meal for exams!”
minho recalls your late night snacking during last term’s finals and he sighs at the memory. 
you were literally consuming that stuff three times a day. sometimes more. he had to hide the rest of it and force you to let him cook you a proper meal.
of course he almost folded when you looked at him with teary eyes, begging him to free the packs, and that you were tired and stressed and you’re really craving it. you were so tempting begging him like that. nevermind that it’s for some stupid noodles. he eventually made sure you ate his cooking anyway.
he takes 3 of the packages from your cart and puts them back on the shelf. he sighs through his nose while you glare at him.
“we’re supposed to die a natural death, y/n. i don’t want you getting a heart disease any time before 90!” he scolds you.
90 is a bit too much, you think. you just poke your tongue out at him again but you move on with only the 2 packs. 
you are so annoying. he can't help but smile while watching you struggle pushing the cart. 
you look back at minho from his sudden quietness. minho just nods at you to continue walking. his heart warms. you always glance back to see if he’s still behind you. always. whether you’re on a narrow sidewalk or whether you’re ordering in line in front of him, or when you’re both in bed and you can’t sleep due to stress, or that one time you were cheating off of him during an exam. he smiles at the thought. for all kinds of reasons, you always glance back, and for all kinds of reasons he vows to himself to keep being there. 
both of you walk to the candy section. none of you really like candy that much but hyunjin kept begging minho to get a brand of gummies that can only be found at that supermarket. minho saw you looking at the cherry lollipops. you’ve had that before. he knows because it’s what you had in your mouth during a small get-together for his birthday where he introduced you for the first time to his friends.
some of the boys have already met you. you got comfortable real quick with the rest of them and he remembers being so happy that they’re getting along greatly with you. 
seungmin teased him about you that night and he just threatened to put him in the oven before muttering something about how she's just a friend. seungmin just leaves him alone with a sarcastic “sure”. 
he recalls changbin being late that night because of a project. everyone was already on their 4th or 5th game of the night. hyunjin bought a bunch of candy and the lollipop was one of the prizes. minho remembers scolding him for being so childish but he didn’t really stop him since he knows how childish all his friends are anyway. 
you were definitely childish too with two cherry lollipops poking through each of your cheeks. why the hell do you have two? you don’t even like cherries.
apart from definitely childish, you were also definitely drunk from the drinking games you were playing with the rest of the guys. you were getting too close to felix for his own liking and he was unknowingly glaring holes at the younger boy’s freckles, hoping they’ll burst or something. 
he knows you’re a clingy drunk and he wanted to intervene, but he realized seungmin was looking at him looking at you and he’d rather not ignite whatever dumb things the mutt is thinking. he remembers cursing felix inwardly, repeating get your own friend, get your own friend in his head.
when changbin arrived, he introduced you once more. you sat up immediately to bow at the blonde man politely.
and with you being drunk as hell, you blinked at his friend a few times before your jaw dropped, both the cherry lollipops that were just in your mouth falling on top of minho’s head. hyunjin doubled back in laughter and jeongin had to hold the back of the hyunjin’s head to keep it from smashing against the furniture. minho picked up the cherry lollipops in disgust and saw you look at changbin all dazed and pathetic with a “you’re really handsome” slipping past your cherry-stained tongue. changbin laughed shyly and the guys just lost their shit even more at the whole thing.
minho knew you were way out of it at that point and decided to get you to bed while the rest of them continued with the night. 
he dragged you to the bathroom, brushing your teeth for you since you were too drunk to do it yourself.
he got you to his bed, lifting you up and rolling you in his duvet like a cat being put on sock timeout.
“don’t argue. you’re gonna have a terrible headache in the morning. sleep. now.” he said a bit grumpily while making sure you’re still comfortable even after restraining you with his sheets. you whined at him, still not wanting the fun to end.
“but i was winning! you- ch- chan was about to take another shot!” you were putting up a fight although he could see how weak and tired you already were. minho just clicked his tongue at you. 
“and you’ve had too much. you’re sleeping now. i’m not hearing it.”
minho closed his bedroom door shut after turning the lights out and he was right about putting you to bed since you passed out almost immediately.
after a few hours of messing around, minho got tired and left some of the guys in his living room who still had way too much energy. 
jeongin was already asleep on the couch, chan was in the bathroom puking his head out on the toilet (the photos haunted him the next day), and the rest of his friends were so loud screaming “draw 2!” “draw 4!” “draw 8!” that he got a complaint the next morning. 
changbin followed him that night to ask about you.
“so that’s y/n”, changbin said in an amused tone while handing the birthday boy his gift.
“mhm”, minho took the gift and smiled at him. “glad you could come. thanks for this.”
“is… she dating anyone?” the younger one asked and minho’s heart sank so low on his stomach that he thought he was gonna have to pull chan from the toilet so he could have a go next.
changbin looked at him expectantly and minho just blinked before deciding to pull something from his ass.
“she’s not. but she doesn’t really want to date anyone right now. says they’re a distraction. so you probably shouldn’t”
he wasn’t completely lying. you told him you didn’t wanna date around, that you weren’t actively seeking for it. but if anyone nice came, preferably someone you can trust and not a total stranger, then why not? 
minho gulped and changbin looked at him weirdly but ultimately just nodded his head in understanding.
“ah… i see. it’s too bad. but i respect that. i’m gonna hang with those idiots for a while. you heading to bed now?” minho nodded. he walked to his room with a heavy feeling on his chest that he blamed on the food.
he forgot all about it when he saw you. he chuckled at your position: head falling off the edge of the bed, arms in a marty mcfly sleeping position, legs somehow on top of his headboard? he took his phone out to immortalize the sight. how the hell did you even get out of the roll?
he sighed and gently laid your head back on the bed. he maneuvered your body until he had enough space to sleep next to you. he knew there was a high chance that you would be kicking some part of him later on but he never minded. 
minho plopped his heavy leg over you and took you in an embrace to keep you still.
he started feeling a bit guilty for making shit up to changbin. but he figured you won’t mind. not that he would ever tell you. 
he never thought about any of his friends seeing you in a romantic light. nor did he think about it himself. all he knew was he’s really possessive over his friends and that should extend to you. 
but he also knew changbin was a good guy and you’d definitely click well with him. that didn’t mean it would sit right in his stomach if you did click too well. 
get your own friend, he kept thinking. you’re his friend. he doesn’t want you spending less time with him. it would be unfair since he found you first. he should be enough. he huffed one last time before hugging you even tighter that night than he ever had.
“yo! you said you’d buy me two extra cups of pudding. let’s check the aisle.” minho snaps back to reality and follows you. 
the pudding.
normally, he wouldn’t even consider replacing it with one yet he offered you two.
his guilt from… earlier events made him think you deserve just as much and then some. he knows you know that it's unlike him to even pay you back for his greedy schemes so you're taking advantage of the newfound generosity that you didn't know was actually guilt.
somehow they’re all out of the regular pudding. what’s there is rows and rows of the nasty strawberry pudding both of you tried once. he remembers how your face scrunched from disgust.
the cute little designs on the pudding cup made minho wanna try it with you. you ate at the same time and both of you immediately spat it out.
“this is absolute shit from a butt! the goddamn devil’s butt, blergh!” you drank minho’s sparkling water to wash out the definitely-not-strawberry strawberry flavor. 
“yeah, you’d know” he laughs hard and calls you weird.
“it’s an expression, you piece of shit. a piece of shit from the devil’s butt too, mind you. and you’re weirder than me, don’t give me that.”
“i’ll stuff this pudding in your mouth,” he threatens and you fake gag at him. none of you tried any strawberry-flavored pudding again.
“looks like you really just don’t deserve pudding today” he chuckles at the sight in front of him. 
“maybe if you left my pudding alone”, you mutter and he just basks in successfully annoying you.
you both continue on your separate shopping carts while still walking around together. minho is about to go crazy. why the hell does he keep being reminded of you in this stupid store? for every little thing too. like, seriously?
the meat section reminded him of you absolutely fucking up the steak you tried cooking for him when he won with his team on a dancing competition. you still ate it all, trying your best to chew the overcooked meat, not wanting to waste it. 
the fruits and vegetables section reminded him of the time both of you were fixated on mango smoothies for months.
the onions reminded him of that one time he taught you how to cook kimchi sundubu-jjigae, and when you offered chopping the onions, you were silently sniffling to hide your crying. he laughed like a madman when he noticed. that picture was marked favorite in his phone.
the damn spring roll wrappers reminded him of your thin shorts just this afternoon. spring roll wrappers, for fuck’s sake.
the frozen foods aisle reminded him of the time he scolded you for not bringing out the tonkatsu he told you to bring out so you both could have dinner. you ended up sleeping all day in his bathtub and they were still frozen by the time he got home. you felt so bad that you paid for both of your food that night, which then made him feel bad so he went with you to the convenience store to try out the interesting strawberry pudding with the cute packaging. 
the dairy section took him back to that one afternoon where you were both here doing your groceries, and an old couple asked him to reach for the milk brand at the bottom shelf, saying something about bad joints. he remembers the goosebumps that ran through his body when the old lady whispered to him that both of you will have beautiful kids like them someday. she proceeded to show him said kids on her wallet, pictures faded from how long ago those were probably taken. he just smiled politely at her. he was certain if you two had kids, yours would be cuter than theirs. not that he kept thinking about it from time to time afterwards.
he exhales in relief when you two get out of the supermarket, light bags of food in hand. you look at him and he looks at you and there’s a pause before he starts talking.
“let’s pass by the convenience store. maybe they have your pudding there.” 
you know the convenience store is a bit farther from the station since it’s the other way. you’re not even craving pudding anymore.
“let’s go”, you say as you both walk towards the other direction, groceries in hand. 
you always linger when you’re with him. a few hours more to see him laugh with and at his friends on his birthday even though you already feel your eyes getting heavy. a few seats more distanced from the train door to see him a bit longer, not wanting to leave before him. a few blocks more in the opposite direction just to be in his presence a little more. the weight of the grocery bags are nothing. not when minho’s next to you.
once you arrive, both of you plop the bags on the tiny table while he checks on the pudding aisle. you notice how peaceful it is like this with your tiny routines you formed with him over a few years. your heart beats faster, realizing the domesticity of it all. 
you pinch your thigh to stop daydreaming about your friend. you tell yourself to just pay attention to your surroundings. 
the cashier is giggling at someone on the phone, there’s a cat meowing for something outside, the convenience store is rather empty, and you can hear minho clicking his tongue from across the store.
“nothing?” you ask and he nods.
“you know, there should be compounded interest in these things. i say one more extra pudding with every day that passes where you still haven't paid me back”, you offer a very bad deal for him. you continue pushing your luck. “besides, that was the last pudding. i was looking forward to eating it after a hard day at uni…”
minho raises his eyebrow at you.
“you’re a spoiled brat, you know that?” he chuckles.
“and you’re a thief! i’m just saying…” you add, still trying to convince him.
minho just shakes his head and gets some sparkling water for himself. you follow him to the counter and the cashier brings his phone down to scan his item.
“is that all?” he chews his gum with a smile while taking minho's money. minho nods. 
you’re looking at the other products near the counter. you notice the magnetic cat keyrings on the side and eye them closely. it’s a little too expensive. maybe you can convince minho to get this instead of the pudding.
“you need condoms too?” the cashier blurts out too casually and you can't help but get flustered at the implication.
“w-we don’t. we’re not- he-”
“i’ll take a pack. thank you”, minho says also too casually and you avoid looking at him while you head back to the table with both your groceries. 
it’s none of your business, really. you knew minho liked to fuck. well, most people your age do, it’s no big deal. there are multiple times when you wanna come over to his place but he’ll text you a little “busy” so you knew not to come. 
there was actually a time when you just strutted in his place without informing him, much like he is with you. it ended when you realized that of course he had a whole life that didn’t include you.
you were in his new apartment, relaxing in his bathroom since he could now afford an apartment with a bathtub. you were taking a warm bath, almost dozing off when you heard the door open and slam shut which was immediately followed by wet kisses and people bumping into furniture. 
you heard them giggling as they went inside minho’s room. you swore you felt your heart melting into the warm water and down the drain that you started to open after figuring out what was going on. and yet you can feel the familiar warmth in your belly because of the same, familiar person.
stupid lee minho with his stupidly soft voice. 
you moved as quietly as possible to get out of the tub but you’re sure they wouldn’t hear you anyway from all the moaning that’s going on. minho sounded a bit mean to the guy but that embarrassingly turned you on too. you felt like a creep squeezing your thighs in his bathroom after a few minutes of minho groaning and telling the stranger how much of a good pet he’s being for him. 
from then on you always told him every time you’re coming over. he doesn’t do the same to you, very much loving going in and out of your place like he pays for it. 
he knew you never brought anyone over anyway. minho teased you for your lack of love or “lust interests”, as he called it. that earned him a flying boba ball hurling from your straw and straight towards his cheek. your “lust life” isn’t his concern anyway. and it’s the same with him. minho liked to fuck and it’s not any of your business.
he stuffs the condoms and sparkling water in his bag of groceries. 
“let’s go”, he says while blinking at you. you head out and walk back again towards the train station.  
the wind was cool on his skin. you are right beside him, the air making your hair flutter as you talk about jisung calling you earlier this morning about some prank he pulled on changbin that minho hasn’t even heard of yet. 
you and jisung have already gotten closer since you two met on his birthday. and since then, minho kept appearing in your apartment more often so his title won’t be replaced.
he wanted to listen to your story. he really did. especially when it concerned his friends being absolute idiots. but all he heard was “jisungie”, “pink”, “butt”, and “burst” while the rest of your words were getting carried away by the cool wind.
he nods at every word with a smile, trying to focus as much as he can. but seriously, how can he when the light from the streetlamp is making your features soft and all perfect for him to stare at, and when you’re letting out airy giggles that interrupts the story itself.
he laughs at that. you clutch your stomach, as if his laugh pushed yours to intensify tenfold. you don't have to know he’s laughing at you and not whatever jisung did to make poor changbin suffer. 
you calm down after a few minutes and sit at a nearby bench with a sigh and a faint smile adorning your face.
“i can’t breathe. let’s sit for a while”, you say, eyes closed. 
your eyelashes are kissing your face and he has never wanted to imitate something so bad. at this point he doesn’t care where his thoughts wander to. he doesn’t think deeply about the implications. not when he can look at you right now.
a few silent seconds and then you jerk your head to the bushes on the right. he looks at you confused. a faint meow can be heard and you all but melt when you see a tiny kitten hiding but seemingly wanting attention. 
he holds in a deep breath as you call for the cautious little stray in front of you. he gives you a packet of the cat treat he always brings, and you gently coo at it so as to not scare the poor thing away.
“it’s okay, baby. you have to eat”, you say as you kneel in front of the little guy. he smiles at that.
he told you before that cats would feel less threatened if you make yourself smaller in front of them. you always listen so well. he realizes how both of your little habits, like feeding stray cats or doing groceries, have seemed to intertwine with one another over time.
you’re talking so sweetly to the cat and it overwhelms him. if he exhaled, he thinks he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from yelling or something.
the kitten comes closer, suspicious of the stranger offering him the food. he takes a sniff, you’re as still as possible, and it eventually licks the treat. you beam. your eyes turn to crescents and it’s the most overwhelming thing ever that he ends up finally exhaling but not before clenching his jaw so hard so he won’t be able to startle you or the kitten.
you start petting it and the little fellow allows him. he knows it’s the greatest honor in life for you. much like when soonie finally sat on your lap. eventually, he collects himself and the little stray allows him to pet it too.
“wish i could put every stray cat in my bag and take it home”, he says as the kitten starts purring like an engine.
“i’ll bring my bag too so we have space for more.”
minho smiles at your statement. the little guy keeps purring as minho rubs just under his ear. 
to his shock, this one suddenly jumps on your shoulders and nestles itself on top of your head. you go completely still, afraid that if you move it will jump back down. 
minho inhales so deep. he starts thinking you’ll make him break breath-holding records someday. 
he grabs your phone that he still somehow has, trying not to make the array of keychains jangle. you laugh at his attempts to not startle the kitten with your dangling keyrings. he takes hold of your phone and takes the picture.
you look at him, still smiling, and the little guy starts making biscuits on your head. minho keeps holding his breath. you try very hard to stay really still despite feeling the ball of fur tickling your scalp. you’re trying so hard not to laugh and squirm at the kitten’s massages and minho can’t help but sigh out all the air he’s been holding.
“marry me.” 
the words are out before he knows it. it takes him a second to realize what it meant. he looks at you and it’s so silent. you’ve gotten completely still and you’re no longer smiling as the kitten makes biscuits on your head. he can hear his heart beating too loud. he fucked up. 
he fucked up. stupid stupid stupid. the kitten jumps from your head and runs to a distant meowing sound, probably its mother, and you’re still completely unmoving. you’re blinking at him, an unreadable expression on your face.
he takes your grocery bags and puts them in your hands.
“i- i gotta go. text me when you get home”, he mutters, still not looking at you.
when you move on from the shock, minho was already across the street and heading inside the train station hurriedly.
what the fuck?
you get up, still confused, and you try running to get on the train he’s in. it shuts before you can, and you’re standing there on the platform, confused and worried.
the ride back home is too loud for minho. loud and fucking heavy. minho was never good with confrontations. he was never really good at expressing what he felt either. 
marry him? what the fuck? he never paused to really think about the possible feelings he might have towards you yet the words slipped out of his mouth anyway. it slipped out faster than he realized that he might actually like you. and when he did realize, it was immediately after saying those stupid words which was why he started panicking instead of the obvious choice of laughing it off.
but he fucked up and fucked up again when he left you there. minho groans, bags heavy in his lap, and the ride home felt longer than usual.
he remembers this is where he met you, right on this train on the way to university. it was a normal day, he was on the 6 am train and you were outside rushing to get on board with a “pleasepleaseplease” leaving your mouth. 
by your luck, or his, you made it inside and sigh in relief. 
minho noticed your damp hair, baggy hoodie, and ridiculous-looking pants with too many pockets. 
you were still breathing heavily and you're holding onto one of the poles. when you looked up, your eyes directly met his. 
he blinked at you before deciding to pat the empty seat next to him. by definitely his luck, you sat there even though there were other free seats.
“thank you”, you mumbled out shyly, avoiding his gaze. he just hummed. you made no advances to talk to him after that which made him a bit disappointed.
when he noticed you bringing out your phone to check your emails, he inwardly thanked the also ridiculous-looking keychains hanging on your phone case.
“isn’t that heavy?” he asked with a teasing tone.
you looked at the voice who just spoke to you and he couldn’t help but smile wider at the shudder laced in your words.
“w-what?” 
“your keychains.”
“oh, these”, you mumble and he nods. “they don’t feel heavy to me. actually, they feel too light for my liking? i want more. some of them i bought, some are given. it’s like a collecting-thing.”
he softly laughed at your rambling that you didn’t seem to notice.
“can i see?”
you handed him your phone and your hand brushed against his. your soft hands. he inspected the thing and gave you back your phone, making sure to brush his fingers past your hand again. 
“i have one in my backpack. would you want one?” minho offered.
“r-really?” 
minho laughed at your nervous state. why were you so nervous? 
“yeah. it’s probably buried in here though so i’m not sure if i can get it right now. i can give it to you some other time, maybe?”
“you don’t have to bother, really.”
“no. it’s cute. the keychains. it would be an honor.” minho said.
“i um.. i’m al- a student in the university at the next stop. i-”
“great! me too. i’ll look for it there.”
when you two got to the university, minho dug through his backpack for one of the keytags in there. he found it under layers of crumpled paper, then noticed his jureumi doodle on it. he handed it to you with a smile and you gladly took it.
“this is quite… interesting. you drew this?” you asked.
“yeah. i- yeah.”
you laughed and immediately stuck it on one of the other keyrings on your phone.
“there! i will make sure to take care of it”, you said, bowing at him in gratitude. 
“well, i gotta make sure that you make sure to take care of it. what time’s your break?”
the rest was history. the train beeps and announces his stop so he gets up and leaves. 
it’s been four days and he hasn’t seen you since. you messaged him that night telling him you got home to which he sighed in relief but he didn’t reply back, feeling too awkward to do so. 
he didn’t come over to your place either. he can’t face you after that. 
he supposes you’d either a) tease him about it and he can finally say it was a joke but you’ll both know about how he feels anyway which will drive you away; or b) act normal and pretend it never happened and he can be relieved but you’ll both know about how he feels anyway and he wouldn’t be able to stand ignoring it. 
you actually went with option b, he thinks. he knew you weren’t good at confrontation either. you messaged him the next day if you could come over like usual but he replied with “busy” so you don’t push. 
you tried again the next day, then the next, but he kept saying the same thing. you still asked earlier this morning, the fourth time now, and he was about to reply the same four letters until his phone came flying across the couch thanks to kim seungmin.
“do you wanna get sma-”
“i can’t stand it”, the boy interrupts.
minho still looks at him angrily and a bit confused.
“i really can’t stand it. you asked to hang out but i can tell you’re angry at something and you’ve been passive-aggressive the whole time”, seungmin finally breathes out.
“first of all, i asked jisung first but he said he was busy-” 
“there you go again. what’s wrong, minho?” seungmin interrupts again.
minho just sighs. he’s feeling a bit guilty now. seungmin always meant well. maybe that’s why he called him next. even if he sucked at confrontation, seungmin read people well and maybe he just needed someone to understand without him having to say it out loud. minho didn’t realize that and apparently, the younger man was already fed up.
“it’s y/n, isn’t it?” seungmin asked. minho closes his eyes. he really is too observant.
“jisung told me that she told him you have been ignoring her” oh nevermind. so jisung told him. minho sighs, not sure if he should say the words out loud.
“i… i think i love her.”
“you think?” 
seungmin is just baffled. he laughs at his friend’s stupidity and lack of awareness of his own emotions. 
minho groans.
“so why are you ignoring her?” seungmin sat more comfortably, although a bit far from the older boy, just in case he says something that would make minho wanna smack him with a pillow.
“i told her i wanted to marry her”, minho says quietly and seungmin can’t hold himself back from laughing but minho continues. “it’s so fucking stupid. i told her that and then i realized that maybe i liked her. i just stood there like an idiot then i left.”
it felt good to get the words out, he realizes. seungmin is still laughing with a hand clutching his stomach. minho throws a pillow at him and the younger boy calms down.
“you’re cute, minho. but you still didn’t answer my question. why are you ignoring her now?"
“didn’t i just tell you?”
“no?” seungmin interjects. “did she reject your ridiculous marriage proposal?” 
“i just told you i left.”
“and there it is. you had no right to leave! you weren’t the one to say yes!” seungmin shakes his head, still smiling.
minho never considered that maybe you liked him back. he just… never did. 
he recalls back to that time he met you on the train. from the first time he laid eyes on you, you piqued his curiosity. from your wet hair to your oversized pants with too much pockets to the keychains on your phone, he really wanted to get to know you better. when you told him you were free until your 12 noon class, that also spiked his interest because why the hell were you rushing to get on the 6 am train when your classes start six hours later? 
your childlike wonder made him immediately want to be your friend. he didn’t question it since his close friends are a bunch of grown men with the interests and loudness of children anyway. not that he's any different. 
so you two became friends. best friends over the span of two years. he was too afraid that two years is all he’d ever have with you so he didn’t consider that maybe, just maybe, that there's a chance kim seungmin is right.
he was about to speak up again before hearing his doorbell ring. 
“i got it”, seungmin says. 
instead of the pizza they were expecting, you were standing there, hair damp, and in pants with too much zippers this time. 
minho’s heart skips a beat. 
you look at seungmin then look at minho then look back at the guy in front of you. 
“i- i’m sorry-”
“no. it’s alright, y/n. i was just about to leave”, seungmin reassures you. 
seungmin goes back to the living room to gather his things that were scattered like he was definitely not about to leave. 
minho stays silent, finally picking up his phone from across the couch and he opens it to the unsent message on his screen.
seungmin gives you a goodbye and a quick hug, and minho grimaces at the action. since when did seungmin hug his friends? the door shuts and you’re heading towards him. 
he’s still. he can’t ignore you forever but he thinks he can’t face you too soon.
“look at me. i’m right in front of you and you’re still ignoring me?” you pout and minho finally looks up at you, your damp hair sticking to his shirt that you’re wearing.
you’re wearing his shirt. you really went with option b after all.
“you suck at proposals, you know?” you throw something on his lap and his eyes go to the familiar cat keychain that he saw you look at in the convenience store. “asking me to marry you and you didn’t even get me a ring.. tsk.”
your words barely sink in and his heart is still beating in a speed like never before. he looks up at you again and there you are, smiling down at him like you also feel the same.
“you-”
“yes, dumbass. i accept your horrible marriage proposal.” you’re grinning from ear to ear as you finally sit down on the couch next to him. you bring out your phone and show him the dangling other half of the magnetic keychain, attached to the jureumi keytag he gave you two years ago.
minho laughs. you accepted. you accepted the proposal that wasn’t really a proposal but more like a confession. you accepted it. you accepted him. he smiles wider at the ridiculousness of the moment.
“and i suppose these are the rings?” minho teases.
“mhm! want me to put it on your finger?” 
he laughs at that but nods. you insert the wide ring of the keychain on his finger and he giggles at the empty space.
“ya, you didn’t even get my ring size right!” he teases, eyes sparkling and heart practically bursting. he thinks he’s never been this happy.
“you really shouldn’t complain”, you retort back with a smile. “i mean, really, you proposed while i’m the one kneeling down, without rings, and then left! you’re hopeless, lee minho. at least i got us something”
minho grins while shaking his head.
“i’m sorry for leaving, y/n”, he takes your hand and kisses your fingers one by one. 
goosebumps run all over your body while his soft lips grace your skin. “in my defense, i didn’t know i’d be proposing.”
minho stops kissing your hand, taking your ring finger and inserting it into the empty space in the keychain right next to his.
“there. it fits perfectly.”
he looks at you, almost too fond, and you aren’t smiling anymore. you’re looking at him like you’re about to cry.
“you are so sappy. i’m in love with you, you know?” you whisper like it's a secret you are never meant to tell. minho looks at you and notices how glassy your eyes have become.
“shh. it’s okay.” 
he tucks a hair strand behind your ear. “i’m in love with you too. good for us, honestly. wouldn’t want us to marry when we don’t love each other.”
he’s sure your soft laughter is better than any music ever heard in this world.
“can i hug you?” you ask him shyly. 
the butterflies in his stomach are going crazy at that point but he lets out a chuckle at your question. he doesn’t quite understand how you’re still able to get so shy with him after all this time.
“you don’t have to ask.”
“i know, but just to be su-” minho interrupts you, removing the keychain from your fingers and quickly maneuvering you on top of his lap. you squeak and he encages you in a tight embrace.
you wrap your arms around his shoulders in return and you just about melt into his hug.
“you smell so good”, minho mutters while burying his nose into your neck. 
your previously damp hair that is now dry made him aware of your fresh-out-of-the-shower scent, and he inhales you in so deep, wanting to stay there forever. he can’t help but press a lingering kiss on your neck.
you whimper at the unexpected kiss. minho smiles at your reaction and peppers a few more kisses. you being so close to him is much better than smelling your scent in your bathroom. his lips continue kissing and he feels you let go of the hug, deciding to grip onto the material of his hoodie instead.
“minho”, you sigh, trying to even your breathing. 
“mm? what’s the matter?” he gets lost in your scent and decides that him inhaling isn’t enough. he licks the skin and groans at the shiver that runs through your whole body. “you’re so sensitive..”
he can feel you gripping the fabric tighter. he chuckles right next to your ear and that simple thing makes you shiver again which further amuses him.
minho licks another spot and he was about to suck on it, but someone rings the doorbell. he ignores it with a huff and proceeds to suck on the area. you let out a tiny moan and he smiles, sucking on it a bit harder. 
to both of your dismay, the doorbell rings again and minho gathers all his self-restraint to remove himself from you. 
he kisses your neck one last time before removing you from his lap. the grumpy look on his face is evident as he gets up to see what was so important that he was interrupted from marking you.
apparently it was the pizza that seungmin ordered. he thanked the delivery guy with a tip, and placed the food on the table.
you’re focused, putting the other half of the magnetic keychain on his phone case. he feels his heart melting.
“seungminnie ordered this with his money. i suppose we can enjoy this.” he grins at the mention of eating seungmin’s food and you just nod while blinking at him slowly with a blank expression. “or maybe we can eat this later.”
minho hovers over your figure and encages you on the couch. you’re just looking at him, smiling like a fool with dazed eyes. 
“you wanna continue, pretty girl?” minho asks in that sickeningly sweet tone. you could’ve sworn that there was concern laced in his voice if his hand wasn’t rubbing your thigh firmly which definitely overwhelmed you some more.
“min, i..” you start speaking but the rest of your sentence dies in your throat as you look at his hand inching higher. 
“mm?” he smiles down at you, noticing your hands digging into his couch. “don’t worry, baby. i’ll take care of you. will you let me?”
you nod at him. minho smiles. 
“but i… i’m not sure-”
“if you’re not ready right now, it’s okay. we can just eat-”
“no!” you interrupt him quickly. “it’s okay. i mean, i want it. now. i just- i’m not sure if i can be good? i don’t know what to do.”
minho’s heart skips a beat at your words. you’re just too cute. how can you ever think you won’t be good? you’re already being so good right now.
“shh. it’s okay. you’re already perfect. i said i’ll take care of you, yeah?” minho kisses your forehead and you know for sure that everything his lips touch makes you a bit dizzy.
“sorry. i’m acting like i don’t know shit. but like, practically, i don’t? i’m not a virgin but i- i uh i’ve only slept with one person so far.”
he giggles at your nervous rambling. you’re too adorable.
“yeah. you mentioned that before. it’s okay, pretty. don’t be nervous. it’s just me.”
“i didn’t tell you it was with a…  woman. the person i lost it to. so i, um, i don’t know how to handle stuff with a guy.” you confess.
minho’s cock twitches at the confession. not a single guy. he’s the first man you’ll ever have. you notice his jaw clench and he squeezes your thigh.
“you still want me?” minho asks, hoping for the obvious answer.
“want you now.”
minho nods and finally kisses you on the lips. 
your lips are so soft against his. it’s so soft and perfect and somehow familiar. 
he’s kissing you like it’s something he’s been practicing for his whole life. he lifts you from the couch, carrying you in his arms. your lips are slotted against each other. he licks over it and you let a moan escape making his tongue slip inside.
your mouth is so fucking perfect. so wet and so warm. his cock envies his tongue at the moment and he hurriedly opens the door to his bedroom. 
he lays you down on the bed and you let out a little stretch. he laughs at your cuteness.
“take it off.” you point at his clothes. he has such a smug look on his face. this can’t be happening. no, this really is. 
he removes his shirt and lays on top of you. 
he’s so beautiful like this. you trace your fingers on his skin, mouth agape at your crazy hot best friend, looking down at you with a smile. you trace the scar on his abdomen that somehow makes him prettier. minho laughs at your actions.
he takes your wandering hands and pins them right beside you. he kisses you again in the same breath, harder, messier, more forceful as if he wants to consume you whole. you whine into the kiss and he all but swallows your noises, licking and biting and sucking all over your mouth. 
when minho’s hands let go of your pinned arms, you scramble to hold onto his shoulders. he kisses down your neck, hands touching everywhere and eventually bunching up the fabric of his shirt you’re wearing, up and over your head. 
“shit.”
his mouth kisses all the way down to your collarbones, then to your shoulders, and he pulls one of the straps down, kissing the spot where the bra strap was. 
“minho, need you already.” you desperately sigh while tugging at his hair. he kept kissing all over your shoulders and down your chest, before pulling down the cups and letting your breasts spill out. his jaw clenches. even better than he thought.
“i know, baby. but let me take my time, yeah?” he says sweetly with a furrow in his brows before groping one of your tits and licking your nipple. he feels you whine and shudder at the sensation. “fuck.”
he keeps his hands full of them, continuing to lick and suck while humming in content. 
at that point you can no longer help but squeeze and scratch his shoulders.
minho lets go of your nipple and grins.
“kitty likes to scratch? is this too much?” he says with fake concern in his voice while he pinches the hardened bud. your eyes close, hands gripping him tighter because of how sensitive he’s making you
“i asked you a question, baby. look at me when i ask you a question.” he brings himself back up to look at your cute face all scrunched up, his hand stroking your cheek with his thumb. this is too much. how can he be demanding yet fucking soft about it?
you open your eyes, brows furrowed in frustration.
“there we go. now answer. is this too much?” he goes back to your chest again, slowly this time, dragging his finger downwards. when he reaches your breast, he encircles your nipple and rubs it lightly, his feather-light touch making you tremble. 
“yes”, you whined. “minho-”
he suddenly pinches hard and rolls it in between his fingers. you moan out loud and he chuckles, admiring how much of a mess he’s already made of you.
he unclasps your bra and dives his tongue into your mouth again while his fingers pull down the zipper on your pants. he tugs it off but is met with resistance. confused, he breaks away from the kiss and sees that it was the wrong zipper. you giggle after realizing what happened.
“you and your weird pants.” he zips down the proper zipper this time, and pulls it down along with your underwear. 
your jumpy thighs immediately close at the cool air in his room but he spreads them wide for him, negating your attempts.
“shit, you’re made for me.” he runs a finger through your folds, gathering the slick that formed and spreading it all over your cunt. “so wet, baby. knew you’d leak for me just right.”
you bite your lip, muffling your sounds when his fingers come into contact with your pussy. he takes a thumb to your clit and rubs. 
“min-”
“i know, baby. it’s been so long, hasn’t it?” he coos, applying more pressure. “i’ll play with it for a bit. you’ll let me, yeah?”
minho’s position in between your legs kept you from your poor attempts of bringing your thighs together. he pinches your clit softly and your hips jerk even more.
“you can’t keep still, can you?” minho chuckles. “it’s okay, i’ll make you.”
minho lays down, eyes right above your cunt. he spreads your pussy with two of his fingers before diving in for a taste. he groans. too fucking good.  
your thighs enclose his head. he takes both of his arms to hold your hips down while he greedily laps at your cunt. 
“mmh” he mumbles onto your wetness, alternating between lingering flicks to your clit, licking down to gather more of your slick, then back above. “hold your legs, baby. be good for me, yeah?”
you listen to him, hooking your hands below your knees. you’re crying out his name and he takes it upon himself to add his fingers to the mix. 
he slips his middle finger inside, groaning at the resistance. god, your’e so fucking tight. his tongue starts sucking on your clit and you whine for him so cutely. he buries the whole finger in, making you gasp, and he temporarily releases you from his mouth.
“mm. there we go.”
minho is already drunk on your cunt at this point. he goes back to licking and sucking and thrusting and playing with it like he said he would. 
he adds another finger afterwards and starts scissoring you open. 
one specific curl of his fingers gets you moaning his name, more high-pitched than the previous ones. he chuckles directly on your pussy and does it again while simultaneously dragging his teeth across your clit.
you thrash under him, gripping under your legs harder, still following what he told you to do. so obedient. 
minho is fucking livid. he’s messy with it. you can feel his heavy tongue and plump lips all over you. your moans are getting more frequent, your legs starting to shake.
“you feel it baby?” minho says in between licks, his fingers continuing to abuse that one spot. you think you’re about to burst.
“min- please. i’ll-”
“cum on my tongue.” he orders and your body follows him. you cum so dizzyingly hard and minho continues dragging his hot tongue on your cunt. you let go of your thighs and push his head crying about it being too much.
he pulls off with a smile, licking his fingers that were just in you. intoxicating.
you’re breathing heavily, eyes closed from the intense orgasm and thighs practically vibrating. your hair is messy on his sheets, parts of your sucked red and purple, your pussy glistening because of him. all of it, because of him. you’re so fucking insatiable. 
he runs his hand up your shaking thighs and you flinch at his touch. he rubs his hand on your swollen clit and you flinch harder, still sensitive. 
“poor baby is twitching. can’t wait to be buried right here.” he drags his hand up from your cunt to your lower belly and pushes down. you squirm. after a while, you finally open your eyes and look at him.
he’s smiling wide, mouth a whole mess, even his nose was a bit wet because of you. you’d be embarrassed but he’s so fucking pretty and it turns you on even more.
“n-need a moment, min.” you say in a hushed tone, still trying to even your breathing. minho nods and lies down next to you, tucking your hair behind your ear again. how is he so soft?
“take your time. you’re so beautiful all spread like this.” his voice is so fond. “could stare at you all day.”
“you’re pretty too.” you tell him with a smile, eyes traveling down his form. 
he’s still wearing his sweatpants and you notice his dick poking through it. your curious hands travel down his stomach to the bulging outline in his pants. minho hisses and grabs your hand.
“you’re going to drive me insane.” minho is too fucking hard and he’s trying his best to wait since you needed your moment. but the way you look in front of him, fully naked with your innocent eyes and soft hands wanting to grab his dick, he might just lose it.
“wanna see it, min. can i?” you ask. 
you’re a goddamn angel. you’re asking permission and that somehow makes his cock twitch. he can’t really resist you, not when you’re looking at him like that. and not like he wanted to anyway. 
he sits against his headboard, motioning you to sit on his lap. he rubs your thighs gently. you’re so warm on top of him. so pretty. 
“pull it out then.” 
with shaky hands, you pull down his sweatpants just enough to pull his hard cock out. he bites his lip when your soft fucking hands touch his dick. he can feel his ego inflating when you gasp and look at it with wide eyes. 
he’s big. you haven’t seen a lot of dicks but you know it's big. thicker than what you’ve seen in the media, and a bit more than average in length.
“it’s..”
“hm?”
“it’s really pretty like you.” 
minho laughs at your statement. you have his hard cock in your soft hands and you’re calling him pretty. you’re too fucking cute. 
you notice it’s already leaking a considerable amount. you swipe experimentally at the tip and he grips your thighs harder.
“baby”, he speaks in warning.
“mm?” you continue caressing his dick, admiring how his thigh muscles clench and his breathing hitches.
“don’t be a brat. you said you needed a moment.”
“but you’re so sensitive here too?” you return the faux concern to him. you squeeze just below the tip and he moans. “wanna play with it, min. like you did with me.”
oh? you’re getting bold? minho clenches his jaw, glaring at you. he wanted you to stop before he cums too soon, but your soft and warm fucking hands felt too good on his cock. he tries to distract you.
“grab a condom from my drawer, baby.” thankfully, you obey. you notice it’s the new condoms. who knew he really was gonna use it for you.
you open the foil, and he guides you to slip it down his cock. eventually, you start stroking him again and he whimpers.
“see? you like it!” you say confidently while minho’s brain starts glitching. “you’re gonna lay there for me, won’t you?”
you’re getting cocky. and somehow it’s turning him on more. you’re on top of him acting like a big girl. he likes that. he’ll put you back in place eventually.
“yeah? you wanna play?” 
you nod with a faint smile, still softly stroking his dick.
“we’ll play on my own terms, pretty.”
he grabs your hips with rough palms and sits you right on top of his cock. both of you moan at the wetness. he grips your hips and grinds you down. 
“minho-” you whine, gripping onto his shoulders. 
you’re squirming again, trying to get out of his hold on. your clit is still a bit sensitive from earlier yet he’s dragging it on his wet cock like he wants it to overwhelm you. minho grunts.
“said you wanted to play with it. you don’t like this?” minho says, his voice like honey right next to your ear. 
he’s fucking pressing you down on it. your thighs are so fidgety but his strong hands are still holding your hips down, making you take it.
you just whimper and he laughs.
“your moment passed, baby. i’m gonna fuck you now.”
minho swiftly pins you down under him, tapping his cock on your clit.
“shit, min-”
“you ready, baby?”
“still sensitive. don’t know if i’ll last”, you answer honestly. minho kisses your forehead.
“it’s alright, y/n. it’s just me.”
you nod at him and he collects your slick on his cock, hissing through his teeth. he pushes one of your legs up, his other hand slowly inching the tip in your entrance.
“fuck.”
you’re clutching the sheets. it fucking hurts. you’re both so wet against each other but his huge fucking cock felt too much.
“hurts, min.”
minho hums, stopping his movements. his tip is already in, and he starts to press soft kisses on your neck again. 
he rubs on your clit and you twitch under him, inserting his cock in you even more slowly. 
you’re so fucking tight. tight and wet and fucking perfect. you’re clenching so hard on him, he can barely slip inside without using his hand to guide him in. he’s breathing heavily above you, and he notices you stopped breathing altogether.
“baby, breathe.” he caresses your thigh softly. “i know it hurts but i promise it’s gonna be good later. breathe for me. try to relax.”
his soft voice is washing over your senses. you nod as you try to follow his words. who knew taking his cock would be so fucking hard? 
“there you go. not used to taking big cocks, huh?” minho teases which gets you laughing airily. “i suppose you’re not used to taking cocks at all. so i should really make this good for you.”
you take a moment to try and focus on something else other than that thing penetrating you. you look at minho smiling down at you, eyes fucking sparkling like he’s waited for this his whole life. he’s really so beautiful. if you knew he’d look this pretty for you right from the start, you would’ve approached him sooner on the train. it doesn’t matter though. you have him now.
“you can try moving again.” you softly mutter.
minho rubs on your clit a bit more firmly, and keeps whispering in your ear while situating himself inside.
“so good, baby. you have no idea.”
“you’re clenching so much. try to relax. for me? don’t wanna cum while i’m not even halfway inside you.”
“shit, feels perfect in here.”
“there we go. shh sh, it’s alright you’re doing so well.”
“just a few more. still hurts?”
“feels full? i know, pretty. but just a bit more.”
he talks you through it and you swear your mind is already fuzzy by the time he bottoms out.
“you took it all. i’m so proud of you.” he says with a kiss on your cheek. he feels your cunt clench around him at his words and he smiles.
“min- fuck, it’s so deep.”
“i know. let me know if i can move, yeah?” minho is gripping onto the sheets. you’re so fucking snug and wet around his cock. it’s better than any fucking thing ever. he could stay buried here. 
after a few soft kisses and involuntary clenches, you decide that you’re ready for him to move. minho pushes your leg higher, dragging himself out and slowly sliding back in with a little force. 
“shit, minho.”
“you’re so tight. fucking gripping me.”
minho repeats the motions, slow but hard, and soon enough you’re squeezing his arms and moaning his name. you can feel him rub against a certain spot and you’re sure you’re about to explode.
“p-please go faster.”
“you sure?”
“yes, min. fuck- just. please.”
minho kneels and presses both of your legs to your chest. he slips his cock inside you hard and gets to a pace quicker than before. he fits so well. you start screaming from him as his dick rubs against your g-spot even better and he starts kissing your mouth again. he licks and sucks on your tongue, and lifts your hips a bit higher and angles his hips a bit differently then rams his cock into you.
“f-fuck, minho. n-not so hard.” you cry out, wincing at the pain of him nudging your cervix. it’s fucking painful. minho apologizes and pulls out, rubbing his head on your clit to get your mind off the pain.
“i wanna try something. wanna take you from behind. you alright with that?” minho says softly.
“o-okay.” you nod, and minho presses a sweet kiss to your lips before flipping you over.
he manhandles you to a position he likes, ass up, face down, spreading your legs a bit wider. you’re a dream. he taps his tip on your pussy, which gets your whining, before slipping inside and continuing his pace.
you’re squirming and moaning much more. somehow, his dick felt even better in this position. minho grabs your ass and thrusts just how he likes. you’re crying out his name.
“mmm. letting me do this to you.. you like taking big cocks, baby?” he says, gripping your bruised hips so tight like it’s his job. you’re nodding, hair messy all over his pillows.
“o-only yours.” you cry out loud. you’re already drooling but he can’t see that.
“that’s right. only mine. i’ll train you to please it. train you to crave it. you’ll like that, won't you?”
he angles his hips and slams into that fucking spot which gets you twitching under him.
“i asked you a question, baby. what did i tell you to do when i ask you a question?”
he gets one of his hands to pull both your arms together, tugging so your head would be lifted up. minho takes his other hand, holding your jaw firmly. you look behind you, staring at him, and he sees how fucking beautiful you are. your cheeks are stained with tears, your chin wobbling with drool over them, your eyes glassy and dazed from how good he’s fucking you.
“that’s right. thought you forgot.” he keeps thrusting and you’re moaning so loud as if it’s the only thing you’re good for. “so? would you like that? train you to be mine?”
minho is so fucking mean. 
you try to answer. you really do. but every time your mouth moves, he just slams into that spot that gets you moaning his name instead.
“can’t even speak?” minho laughs and decides to let go of your face. you fall back into the pillows. 
“i’ll let it slide for now since i have to make sure to fuck you good.”
he carries on with his thrusts. you’re trying so hard to prolong your orgasm, not wanting this to end. he starts groping your tits from behind you, his other hand rubbing your clit in quick motions. fuck. 
minho is so close. your pussy is so fucking wet and the recoil of your ass from his thrusts is driving him insane. you can’t control your moans and he knows you’re close as well.
“you close, baby?” he huffs.
“yes, min. i’m- s-o close.”
“hold it.” 
you fucking groan. minho’s brows are furrowed, he’s focusing on your wet fucking cunt squelching so loud from his rubbing and thrusting. your legs start to shake violently, minho slaps your ass from how fucking dirty you look and feel around him.
“min, i can’t-”
“you can.”
“no-”
“just a little more. you’re cumming with me.”
minho is thrusting like a mad man. his grip on you is so tight, and you’re fucking begging for him to let you cum.
“pleasepleaseplease-”
“cum.”
you jerk violently under him while moaning his name, and he’s cumming. he’s cumming so fucking hard. harder than he ever had in his life. it’s so good. so fucking addicting. he’s moaning in your ear, you’re clenching around him so hard and it’s so wet and overwhelming. he tries to pull out but you’re gripping his cock fucking tightly like you’re made to keep him there. he feels himself weaken and he slumps on top of you. 
it takes him a few moments to regain himself, and he slowly removes himself from inside you.
you were in a faraway place. your body feels too light, but also so heavy that you can’t move. you can’t think either. you feel minho flipping you on your back. he’s talking so sweetly but you can’t really register his words while he kisses your lips, then your nose, then your forehead, then the top of your head.
he mutters something about cleaning you both and you’re too far away to respond. it’s good. you feel fucking great. after a while, the bed dips and he’s running a warm cloth in between your thighs. 
you’re so pretty, he thinks. like his personal angel. you’re laying their dazed, and he thinks he’s the luckiest fucking person in the world. he can see your eyes getting droopy, about to pass out from the amazing sex you both had. 
minho dresses you both, and wraps you in his blanket.
“you’re too cute. i’ll be here when you wake up.” 
after a few hours, you wake up with your entire body aching. it’s usual for you since you manage to sleep in odd positions. but this time, it ached in new places. you chuckle at the memory. you sit back up and rub your eyes.
minho enters his room, glad that you’re already awake. 
“sleep well?”
you nod. you notice he’s carrying a paper bag in his hands. minho drops it on his desk and heads to your soft form on his bed. he kisses you on the mouth and you freeze with a blush.
minho notices and laughs at you.
“i already had my tongue in you and you’re blushing at a little kiss?” he smiles widely. his words make you blush more.
“you took me by surprise is all...” you try defending yourself. you know you wouldn’t get used to your friend being so physically intimate with you any time soon. you can’t help but feel all shy.
it’s minho, for fuck’s sake. your asshole friend who keeps stealing your food and taking horrible pictures of you. but that’s exactly why. 
it’s minho. your asshole friend who’s too sweet and pretty and funny for his own good.
“what’s going through your pretty head?” minho asks, tracing his fingers on your bare thigh.. your smooth thigh he can now touch like this.
“i can’t believe we skipped the marriage and went straight to the honeymoon” you tease. he laughs with you.
“yeah we kinda suck at this. skipping the boyfriend-girlfriend phase and straight to engagement..” minho mumbles with a smile while kissing your bruised neck. “then skipping the marriage and straight to consummation.”
you shiver while giggling at his kisses. you’re so sensitive for him. he likes that.
“wouldn’t have it any other way.” you say. 
his hands inch higher and higher on your thighs until he gets interrupted by the grumble of your stomach. both of you laugh.
“we have all the time in the world to continue later. let’s get you fed.” minho grins, pulling you from the bed. 
“oh and”, minho smiles widely, giving you the paper bag. you look at the contents with a grin of success on your face. “there’s your pudding. compounded.”
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a/n: that was a lot. stretch a bit, drink some water, wash your face. that's what i did after writing lololol. i rlly hope this wasn't too much.. ALSO i tagged ppl who were asking for a part 2. if u want to get removed pls lmk!
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tags: @stayinlimbo @all4minnie @emmaluvsjisung @ddiidi @8bigguys @sunnysidesins
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chatsukimi · 2 days
Text
ᴘᴀɪɴᴛ & ᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇ
featuring: needy!gojosatoru, childhoodfriend!gojosatoru. precious. fluff!, minute jealousy synopsis: you put makeup on your childhood best friend. you learn that he is more than you anticipated. masterlist
you think you know everything about gojo satoru. you'd seen him as a child, two years younger than you, get scolded by his parents for sending a senile sorcerer to hospital. you were there when he first activated limitless and pummelled you accidentally in the face.
safe to say, nothing surprises you anymore. not even when he teleports into your room on the night of your date without even a knock and grabs you by the shoulders to turn you and your chair around.
"oi, stop that."
you strangle him off you. he only grins.
"sure thing." he shrugs, before bending down to inspect you more closely. "what have you got on your face?"
you put the bottle of setting spray down. "makeup."
he ruffles his tousled white hair, windblown. "ah? makeup. are you meeting someone?" he grins halfheartedly, scanning your room for any changes since you last met.
"i am."
"it's about time. i've already dated loads of people," he boasts, his eyes lingering on the powder and blush on the table.
you roll your eyes. "of course you have." you lay on the finishing touches to your face. you notice him watching.
rule one about gojo satoru, when he stares, he's interested. as you grew older, it became harder under those pitch black shades of his to detect where he's staring, but when he really wants something, it's obvious.
you lift a brush. "you want me to do makeup on you?"
he shakes his head.
rule two about satoru gojo, he never says what he's thinking.
you stand up, gesturing at the bed. "sit down." without a word, the boy listens to your command, ready to try something new.
you can't say you're unhappy to try doing makeup on him. you had some spare time left and that beautiful canvas of a face is nothing but to die for. putting makeup on him would be fun.
"i'll have to take off your glasses. may i?"
he sniffs.
rule three about gojo, he pretends to hate it when people ask to take his glasses off, but he secretly likes it. you know. it makes him feel seen, more human.
"do it yourself."
you nod.
taking his sunglasses off, you revel in the familiar ocean which faces you.
another two facts about satoru is that he can't keep still and he can't stop yapping. shaking his leg in tandem with the news from his mouth, the movement makes you shoot him a frustrated glare, distracted.
half to shut him up, the other half to make him pay attention, you grip his jaw in place. your eyes lock. soon enough, he'll probably look away to inspect some other object of interest; he's known you for years, after all. nothing new.
as you work, you think to yourself.
gojo... he's really grown up, hasn't he? in careful brushstrokes, you drag the eyeliner gently to form a wing with the tip of the pen. your eyes narrowed in concentration, you haven't noticed the shallow breath which tumbles from his mouth.
"pretty."
you blink.
gojo satoru scoots closer to you, so that his gorgeous azure eyes are inches from yours. they are widened in awe.
in all these years, you can count on one hand the number of times this genius has focused on anything longer than five-ten seconds. sure, going to jujutsu high has stretched that time out slightly, but it's nothing compared to this.
you know what rule one says about his behaviour, but you couldn't believe it.
he reaches up to brush the hair from your face. unblinking, unwavering, as though memorising everything, the outline of your nose to the singular dashes which form an eyelash, he stares at you.
it is the first step from a boy to a man.
"you are... really, really, pretty."
"says you," you say, almost pushing his hands away.
he sinks his fingers against yours, clasping them in a bone-tight grip.
"you are," he asserts. "how come i've never noticed?" he mutters, furious.
um. you turn to look the other way. the heat of his stare is scalding. nevertheless, the strongest refuses to back down.
"i should've noticed, shouldn't i? and now you're all dressed up with your make-up to meet some other guy." he pouts.
truth be told, you are silenced. this is not the gojo you recognise. in a swift move, he carries you from the vanity to the bed. the display of strength startles you.
"don't go," he whines into your shoulder, shifting you with his strong arms to nuzzle himself into your chest. you did so often when you were younger but-
"stay." he pauses, letting each syllable cascade from his beautiful lips like a bell, ringing crystal clear. "stay with me."
stay with him.
you think you know everything about gojo satoru. you remember the way he begged for a break amidst his pre-adolescent training sessions. you remember the empty hallways of the gojo estate and his silent footsteps, how they left him behind to carry the world on his shoulders.
awaiting your answer, gojo feels his heart beating out of his chest. what if you leave? what if you choose your date over him? what if-
"why?"
he stares up at you again. truly shameless.
"because i want you to." he turns stern. "or else, i'll tell your friend that you didn't actually have work that day you decided to ditch her little meet-up and i'll-"
out of nowhere, a laugh breaks out of you. he frowns.
but then, you press a soft kiss on his cheek, another one on the slope of his nose, which -truth be told- didn't need the contour you'd gracefully put on it, and the strongest sorcerer in the world relaxes to your touch.
moments like these, satoru still manages to surprise you.
"i'll stay."
"promise?" he holds up a pinkie.
"come on, satoru, we're not children anymore."
his eyebrows scrunch together so you finally relent.
"ok."
you link your pinkie to his.
"promise."
getting comfortable, you shoot a text at your friend to move the date to another day.
"i knew you'd stay. you can't stand when i throw a tantrum," he suddenly begins to mumble against your skin. your eyes widen. "i know you... better than anyone..." his eyelids are dragging under the weight of sleepiness.
perhaps you didn't know everything about satoru after all.
gojo opens his eyes, seeing you fully. "i know you can't stand me being alone."
perhaps he knew more about you than you had thought possible.
on second thoughts, you grab your phone from your bedside table, typing up a message you send without a second thought.
sorry. something came up. i might not be able to meet with you next week either. thank you for your patience, but i think i've found someone who i want to stick by forever.
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chaldeanu · 3 days
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taste of home ノ aventurine
ꕤ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . requested by @yinyuedijun ノ i slightly changed the prompt as you said you’re okay with it. i couldn’t come up with any inspiration for an avgin dish, and anything else would require many many more words hehe so i just kept that “homemade” part. i hope you will enjoy the read! ♡
ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . 0.6k ノ gn reader — established relationship . soft bickering . making dinner ノ mostly domestic fluff but it’s aventurine so obviously a sprinkle of hurt comfort ノ vague mentions of his past
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“you never eat at home.”
home sounds distant. aventurine is not used to hearing that word; he’s baffled at how easy it is for you to mention it in any conversation you spark with him.
“why should i? i have enough money to—”
“why shouldn’t you? just once in a while?” an offer, all you can muster with a shrug of your shoulders, knowing well that he would only get more defensive if you were to push him any further with a stern tone. “don’t you want at least to try?”
he doesn’t remember how the food he used to eat with his family tasted like. its memory mingled with the taste of blood, dirt, and dry rations he had to live on for some time. now that he thinks about it — now that you forced him to think about it — maybe that’s exactly why he wants to eat only fancy full-course meals at the finest restaurants. correct, he should get over this irrational fear, but it is so deeply ingrained in his core. an inseparable part.
“for someone so cocky, it’s almost weird to see how often you’re scared of trying new things.” you say it gently, holding his hand in between yours and caressing his knuckles with the soft pads of your thumbs.
“aww, don’t say that,” he chuckles. “you’re usually the one that runs away behind me when something startles you or asks me to do something for you, haha!”
“no?! i’m not. i’m doing fine on my own!” you huff, crossing your arms on your chest.
he grins and shakes his head at you. but it doesn’t look mischievous, not this time. even if you want to continue being stubborn, there’s no point in dragging out this silly argument that, frankly, is completely unrelated to the main topic. to which you return, with your gaze almost pleading.
“we barely used that table in the dining room since moving in here. i can make you something.”
he blinks a few times, tilting his head slightly to come up with a witty answer. but you ignore it, patting him to sit on the chair and yourself going into the kitchen.
to kill the remaining time, he plays with the cuffs of his shirt, picking off nonexistent lint from the silk, before he drops his shoulders down with a sigh. it feels good to just let the day pass, eyes unfocused at the glimmers of the afternoon sun dancing through the windows; he’s glancing at his phone every few minutes, ignoring replying to the messages from work despite them occupying his mind more than he would like to.
not even noticing when he hears your voice calling for him as you come back. the food smells great, and it makes him more nervous as he keeps staring at the dish you put in front of him.
you’re trying not to smile at the sight of him mouthing something under his nose, not sure what, but if you’re not mistaken, something along the lines of being too good for him or making him uncomfortable — or both. for whatever reason, you expected he would take it worse than this.
“you like it?”
“it’s fine.” there’s a pause when his throat ties into a knot, tears threatening to gather in the corner of his eyes.
unsurprising reaction. you sigh and get up from your seat, moving to the other side of the table to put a hand on his shoulder. with each reassuring rub, you take little steps until you’re behind him and your fingers slip into his hair, massaging the scalp in lazy circles.
“let me get my coffee. i will join you in a moment.” you kiss the top of his head and walk away.
and he’s thankful that he can swallow that unexpected surge of emotions without you sitting in front of him.
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pucksandpower · 1 day
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Pequeña
Happy Nation: A Series of Standalone Fics
Fernando Alonso x Webber!Reader
Summary: a brutal breakup leads you right into the arms of one of your father's oldest friends (or in which being sooooo normal about Fernando Alonso runs in the Webber family)
Warnings: 18+ content, age gap, taking advantage of an emotionally vulnerable state, breeding, and pregnancy
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You sit hunched on your bed, knees pulled up to your chest as tears stream down your face. Your mobile vibrates again and you swipe away another message from your now ex-boyfriend without reading it. How could he do this to you? You thought what you had was real.
Your thoughts drift to home, to your family thousands of miles away in Australia. You long for your dad’s comforting embrace and your mum’s reassuring words. But they’re so far away. You feel painfully alone in this strange English city where you’ve come to attend university.
Before you can stop yourself, you’re dialing a familiar number. It rings three times before a warm voice picks up. “Hola pequeña! What’s wrong?”
“N-Nando ...” You sniffle, trying and failing to keep your voice from cracking. “He … he cheated on me.”
There’s a pause before Fernando responds, his Spanish lilt taking on a protective edge. “That little hijo de puta. I’ll kill him myself.”
You let out a watery laugh. “No, don’t do that. I … I just miss home. Miss my family.”
“Say no more, pequeña. You’re coming to stay with me for a bit, yeah? Can’t have you all alone like this.”
You hesitate, wiping at your tears. “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose ...”
“Impose?” Fernando laughs. “My favorite girl? Never. I’m sending a car to get you right now.”
“No, no, I can drive myself-”
“You’ll do no such thing in this state,” he chides. “Driver’s on his way. Go pack a bag.”
You open your mouth to protest again but think better of it. Fernando can be extremely stubborn when he wants to be. “Okay, okay. Thank you, Nando. Really.”
“De nada, pequeña. I’ve got the guest room all ready for you. We’ll get through this together, yeah?”
His soothing Spanish accent is already making you feel infinitely better. You know Fernando has been close with your family for years, has watched you grow up into the young woman you are today. He’s always treated you like his own daughter.
“I’m looking forward to it,” you say, meaning it. Spending time with Fernando is guaranteed to lift your spirits. “Your place in Silverstone, right?”
“That’s the one. Get packing and don’t worry about a thing. I’ll see you very soon.”
You hang up and immediately start throwing clothes and essentials into an overnight bag with a renewed sense of hope. Fernando always knows just what to do to make you feel better.
Two hours later, you’re being ushered into the backseat of a sleek black sedan by a courteous driver in a pressed suit. He takes your bag and stows it in the trunk before sliding behind the wheel.
“Miss Webber? I’ll be taking you to Mr. Alonso’s residence now.”
You nod, suddenly exhausted from all the crying. The driver seems to sense your melancholy because he doesn’t try to make small talk.
The English countryside whips by in a blur of green fields and quaint villages. Before you know it, the sedan is pulling up to an impressive brick estate surrounded by beautifully manicured gardens.
The driver lets you out and leads you up to the front door, which swings open before you can knock. Fernando stands there in a soft white sweater and dark-washed jeans, arms open wide.
“Pequeña!” His eyes crinkle at the corners as he pulls you into a fierce hug. “Welcome, welcome.”
You breathe in his comforting scent of sandalwood and citrus as he rubs soothing circles on your back. “I’m glad you came,” he murmurs.
He ushers you inside and you can’t help but gape at the tasteful, modern interior decor. It’s bright and airy, with huge windows offering views of the impeccable gardens beyond.
“This place is incredible, Nando,” you say, trailing behind him as he leads you through the spacious living room towards what appears to be the kitchen.
“You like?” He grins over his shoulder. “I had it remodeled not too long ago. Here, have a seat.” He pulls out a barstool at the huge kitchen island.
You take a seat, settling your elbows on the cool granite surface as Fernando busies himself at the stove. “So,” he says without turning around. “Tell me everything, from the beginning. Don’t leave out a single detalle.”
You sigh, resting your chin in your hands as Fernando starts pulling ingredients from the fridge. “Well, it started a few weeks ago. ..”
You recount all the little things that, in hindsight, were red flags: the constant emailing and texting, the unusually long nights “studying” at the library, the bizarre excuses. Fernando listens intently, occasionally tossing in a sympathetic “maldito idiota” or an indignant shake of his head.
Finally, you get to the part where you finally confronted your now ex about his shady behavior … only to have him confess that he’d been cheating on you for months with some underclassman sociology major.
By the time you’ve finished, your voice is thick from holding back a fresh wave of tears. Fernando sets down the knife he was using to chop vegetables and comes around the island to pull you into another hug.
“Oh, pequeña,” he murmurs into your hair. “Lo siento mucho. You didn’t deserve any of that, you hear me?”
You just nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Fernando rubs your back again before pulling away, hands on your shoulders so he can look you square in the eyes.
“Listen. That boy?” A feisty glint enters his warm hazel eyes. “He’s a fool, a complete and total imbecile for hurting someone as incredible as you. You’re so brave, so strong, so full of life ...” He tucks an errant strand of hair behind your ear. “And any man should consider himself the luckiest in the world to have you in his life, you understand?”
You manage a watery smile and nod again. Leave it to Fernando to know exactly what to say to begin mending your broken heart.
“Good.” He straightens up, clapping his hands together decisively. “Now dry those tears, pequeña. I’m making my famous seafood paella for dinner tonight and I’ll need my best assistant chef!”
You let out a surprised laugh, swiping at the dampness on your cheeks. “You know I’m a disaster in the kitchen.”
“Nonsense!” Fernando waves a dismissive hand as he returns to the cutting board. “Everyone can learn with a little guidance from Chef Nano, no?”
The next couple of hours pass in a blur of cheerful chopping, stirring, and laughing as Fernando walks you through the steps, nudging you gently whenever you veer off course. It’s impossible to stay weighed down by your sadness when he’s cracking jokes in that irreverent way of his and peppering you with silly kitchen nicknames.
By the time you’ve portioned out the fragrant saffron rice studded with shrimp, mussels, and clams into bowls, you’re doubled over in a fit of giggles from Fernando’s dramatic retelling of his past Formula 1 antics.
“... And then this crazy Australian madman comes barreling into the pit and just starts laying into me!” He throws his hands up, eyes dancing with mirth. “If Charlie hadn’t stepped in, I think your old man really might’ve killed me that day!”
You shake your head, still laughing as you take your first bite of the paella. It’s absolute perfection, the flavors melding together in an incredible symphony on your tongue. “My dad really went after you?”
“Oh yeah,” Fernando chuckles, digging into his own bowl. “We were like two crazed animals back then whenever we were on the track together. Couldn’t stand each other.”
There’s a lull as you both focus on eating for a few minutes. When you’re pleasantly full and satiated, you sit back with a contented sigh.
“Nando, that was hands down the best paella I’ve ever had.”
“You flatter me too much.” He waves a hand, but you can tell he’s pleased. “Just wait until tomorrow, when Chef Nano teaches you how to make the perfect tortilla Española, eh?”
The idea of getting to spend more time with Nando and being cooked for brings a genuine, untroubled smile to your face for the first time in days. This is just what you needed to start healing from your recent heartbreak.
***
As you help Fernando clear the dishes, a comfortable silence settles between you. He pours you both generous glasses of his favorite Spanish rioja and you retire to the plush living room sofas.
Fernando settles into the overstuffed armchair across from you, stretching out his lean legs as he takes a sip of wine. “So, pequeña ...” He fixes you with that warm, piercing gaze. “What is it you really want? In a man, I mean.”
You pause, considering his question as you swirl the ruby liquid in your glass. “I … I’m not sure I know anymore, to be honest. I thought I had it all figured out with ...” You trail off, unable to even say your ex’s name without a pang of hurt lancing through you.
Fernando reaches over to pat your knee comfortingly. “Hey, no more tears, okay? That pendejo is in the past. I’m asking what your ideal partner would be like going forward. What do you want, need, deserve from a man?”
You take a fortifying sip of the bold, peppery wine before responding. “I think … more than anything, I just want to feel cherished. Valued. Like I’m the most important person in his world.”
Fernando’s expression softens. “Oh, pequeña. You have such a big, beautiful heart. Of course that’s what you want — to be adored and treated like the incredible woman you are.”
You duck your head, warmth blooming in your cheeks at his praise. “I don’t know, Nando. Maybe I’m just being naive or asking for too much ...”
“Claro que no!” He leans forward, pinning you with an intense look. “You’re allowed to want those things, pequeña. You’re allowed to be selfish when it comes to your heart and what you need to be truly, deeply happy.”
His words resonate somewhere deep within you and you find yourself nodding slowly. “You’re right. I am allowed to want someone who makes me their whole world and never takes me for granted, aren’t I?”
“Exactamente.” Fernando reaches over to grasp your hands, his calloused fingers engulfing yours. “And let me tell you — any man who doesn’t give you that is un verdadero idiota. You deserve to be cherished, worshipped, put up on a pedestal every single day.”
His dark eyes burn with conviction, lips pressed into a serious line. You find yourself unable to look away, mesmerized by the sheer intensity of his words and manner.
“You deserve everything, pequeña,” he continues in a low, gravelly tone. “A man who makes you his whole priority, who loves you with every fiber of his being. Someone who will lay the world at your feet.”
Fernando reaches up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb stroking over the apple of your cheekbone reverently. The calloused pad of it sends a shiver racing down your spine.
“Someone who looks at you and can scarcely breathe for how lucky, how blessed they are to have you in their life ...”
His face is so close to yours now, his warm breath caressing your lips. You’re completely transfixed, body thrumming with barely restrained tension and … anticipation?
Fernando’s next words are barely more than a hoarse rumble. “I will cherish you, pequeña. Always. Allow me to show you how a real man adores the woman he loves.”
And then his mouth is on yours, hot and insistent and tasting of wine and desire. You gasp into the kiss, frozen for a split second before melting against him, kissing him back with equal fervor. Your hands slide up to tangle in the soft strands at the nape of his neck as he angles his head, deepening the heated exchange.
Fernando groans low in his throat, the vibrations shooting straight to your core. His large, nimble hands come up to frame your face, holding you in place as he takes his time thoroughly exploring your mouth, nibbling at your lips, stroking his talented tongue against yours in a way that has you whimpering into him.
He pulls away slightly and you chase his lips with a soft keen of protest. Fernando chuckles darkly, nosing along your jaw.
“Patience, pequeña,” he rumbles against the sensitive skin just below your ear. “As sweet as that gorgeous mouth is, there are so many other parts of you I’ve been longing to taste ...”
A full-body shudder wracks you at his words, at the sheer need and promise lacing his tone. Part of you is stunned by how quickly the atmosphere between you has shifted, how easily you fell into his passionate embrace.
But a much larger part — the part that has admired and idolized this man since you were knee-high — is utterly intoxicated. Delirious with the knowledge that the love you’ve secretly harbored for Fernando for years is, impossibly, reciprocated.
His mouth is trailing hot, openmouthed kisses along the column of your throat and you tilt your head back with a wanton moan, reveling in the rasp of his day-old stubble against your sensitized skin.
“N-Nando ...” You try to put a protesting note in your voice, but it comes out a pleading whine instead. “Are you sure about this? I’m … I’m just a kid to you.”
He rears back to pin you with a look so full of naked want it makes you squirm. “You stopped being a kid a long time ago, pequeña,” he growls. “I’ve been watching you grow into this gorgeous, fiery woman and it’s taken everything in me not to take you into my arms like this until now.”
His hands roam down to palm your waist, fingers flexing possessively against the dip of your sides. You’re breathless, dizzy, wondering if you’ve stumbled into some incredible, wildly realistic dream.
Because surely this — with your longtime crush, the older man you’ve harbored forbidden fantasies about pulling you flush against his strong frame and lavishing kisses up the side of your neck — cannot be real. Can it?
“It’s real, pequeña. So, so real,” Fernando croons, as if reading your mind. He frames your face again, searing you with another passionate kiss that steals your breath and chases away any remaining doubts. “Feel how real it is,” he murmurs, guiding your hands down to the firm evidence of his arousal straining against the soft denim.
You whimper into his mouth, tentatively palming the thick bulge. Fernando hisses in a sharp breath through his teeth and breaks the kiss to press his forehead to yours. His eyes are tightly shut, long lashes fanning across sunkissed skin.
“F-fuck, pequeña,” he chokes out in a ragged voice. “Been dreaming of those little hands on me for years.”
Something inside you shifts at his confession, like a dam of long repressed want and need cracking open. You suddenly feel bolder, empowered by the effect you’re having on this man — this god among men who you’ve put on a pedestal for so long.
Maintaining heated eye contact, you slowly drag your hand up the length of his erection in one firm stroke that has Fernando’s hips jerking up as he curses vehemently in Spanish.
“Like this?” You rasp, a blatant challenge in your tone as you repeat the motion.
Fernando’s eyes flash hungrily and then he’s surging forward again, capturing your lips in another punishing kiss that leaves you lightheaded and alight with lust.
“Just like that, mi amor,” he growls when he releases your mouth with a final nip at your lower lip. “Now it’s my turn to cherish you ...”
With that, he loops an arm behind your knees and rises in one smooth, powerful motion, hoisting you up into a secure bridal carry. You yelp in surprise, hands flying up to cling to his broad shoulders.
“Nando! What are you, mmph-”
Your protest is cut off by his mouth slanting over yours in another heated kiss. Fernando maneuvers you easily as he starts carrying you towards the staircase, hiking your dainty linen dress up around your thighs.
“I’m making good on my promise, pequeña,” he murmurs hotly against your swollen lips. “Bedroom. Now. Going to lay you out and cherish every sweet inch of that gorgeous body, just like you deserve.”
Unbidden, a soft whine slips from your throat at his heated words. You tighten your grip on his shoulders, fingers digging into the firm muscle there as a fresh wave of arousal floods through you, hot and insistent.
Fernando chuckles darkly, adjusting his grip on you as he starts up the stairs. “That’s it, let me hear how much you want this too.”
You open your mouth to respond but only a needy whine escapes as Fernando hitches you higher in his arms, the movement causing delicious friction against your core.
“I want, ngh-” Your words dissolve into another needy noise as Fernando nips at the juncture of your neck and shoulder in reprimand.
“Use your words, pequeña,” he rumbles against your tingling skin. “Tell me what you want.”
You don’t have a chance to reply before he’s kicking open a door and striding into what must be the bedroom, depositing you gently onto the plush center of an enormous bed. Fernando looms over you, chest heaving as he rakes his heated gaze over your prone form in a way that makes you shudder.
“Nando, I … I want you,” you finally manage, fighting past your shyness to meet his burning stare. “Want you to cherish me, cherish every part of me, like you promised.”
Fernando’s eyes darken further at your words and he slowly, purposefully begins lifting his sweater, never looking away from you.
“Good girl,” he praises in that deep, gruff tone that has your thighs pressing together instinctively. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
He shrugs off the soft knit, revealing a toned, hair-dusted chest and abdominal muscles carved from years of intense athletic training. You can’t help but drink in the display of his powerful body as he reaches for the buckle of his belt.
Fernando doesn’t miss your frank appraisal, a cocky smirk tugging at his full lips. “Like what you see, pequeña?”
You bite your lip and give a small, shameless nod. His grin widens and with a few deft flicks of his wrist, Fernando’s belt is undone and sliding free of its loops. You watch, rapt, as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans and boxer briefs in one smooth motion.
“Then no more teasing,” he promises in a low, heated rasp. “Tonight you’ll have as much of me as you can handle.”
With that, Fernando pushes his trousers and underwear down over his hips in one go, springing free in all his thick, flushed glory. Your eyes widen and you suck in a sharp breath at the sheer size of him, mouth going dry with naked want.
Fernando steps forward until he’s standing at the edge of the mattress, gloriously nude and incredibly aroused. He crouches down, bringing himself eye-level with your flushed face as he reaches out to gently take your hands in his calloused grip.
“Are you sure, pequeña?” He searches your gaze intently. “Because once I claim you, mark you as mine in every way … there’s no going back. I won’t ever let you go.”
His raw confession hangs in the heated air between you. You meet Fernando’s fiery gaze without faltering, threading your fingers through his in silent acceptance. His eyes blaze and then he’s surging up over you, capturing your mouth in another searing, all-consuming kiss as he slowly, reverently hikes your dress up and divests you of your last remaining garments.
You wind your arms around his thick neck, holding him close as Fernando settles between your splayed thighs with a low, guttural groan. He rears back just enough to pin you with another scorching look, stealing your breath.
“You’re mine now, pequeña,” he vows roughly, guiding his thick length to your slick entrance. “And I’m going to spend all night cherishing this sweet body, just like you deserve ...”
Fernando braces himself above you with one powerful forearm, using his free hand to grip your thigh and hitch your leg higher around his lean hips. You keen softly as the new angle allows him to sink even deeper, filling you up so deliciously.
He drops his forehead to yours, dark eyes locked on your parted lips as he starts rocking into you with slow, measured strokes. Each deliberate grind of his pelvis against yours has you whimpering, nails raking down the flexing planes of his back.
“That’s it, pequeña,” Fernando croons, punctuating his words with a sharp roll of his hips that has you crying out. “Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.”
You try to muffle your sounds against his broad shoulder, but Fernando isn’t having it. He slides the hand not braced on the mattress up to cup the back of your neck, tilting your head so your mouths are a hairsbreadth apart.
“No, no … I want to hear every gorgeous, needy little noise,” he rumbles, lips brushing yours with each scorching word. “Want to hear you begging for more of my cock, stretching you so perfectly ...”
A desperate whine slips free at his filthy words, your walls fluttering around his rigid length in defiant response. Fernando rewards you by capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his talented tongue teasing against yours as he picks up the pace of his thrusts.
You moan brokenly into his mouth, legs locking around his narrow waist as Fernando sets a rhythm of steady, pounding strokes. Each slick glide has you building higher and higher, pleasure bordering on overwhelming. It’s so much after so much time without, yet somehow not enough.
You tear your lips from his with a ragged gasp, throwing your head back against the pillows. “M-More, Nando! Please … ah!”
Fernando grunts in approval at your needy plea, hips snapping forward to bury himself deeper. “As you wish, pequeña ...”
He sits up further on his knees, using the new leverage to drive into you with increased force and intensity. The lewd noises of your joining fill the air — skin slapping against skin, your cries of pleasure mingling with Fernando’s low groans of exertion.
Part of you feels like you should be embarrassed by the wanton sounds spilling from your lips. But a much bigger part is just reveling in the indescribable feeling of being taken apart so thoroughly by this incredible man’s skilled body.
Fernando hooks an arm under one of your knees, nearly bending you in half as he leans down to mouth hot, openmouthed kisses from your collarbone up the slender column of your throat. You keen wildly, fingers spasming against the rippling muscles of his back.
“Do you want it harder, pequeña?” He growls the filthy words against the racing pulse point under your jaw. “Want Papi to fuck you just like the needy little girl you are?”
A choked whimper is all you can manage in response, rendered incoherent by his merciless onslaught against that sensitive cluster of nerves deep inside you.
Fernando’s lips curl into a satisfied smirk against the side of your neck and then he’s driving into you with renewed vigor, hips pistoning in short, brutally powerful snaps that quickly have you keening. Your nails leave stinging welts in their wake as they drag down Fernando’s glistening shoulders and back, but he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.
“That’s it, taking me so well,” he grits out through clenched teeth, each word punctuated by a nasty grind of his hips that has you crying out. “Such a good girl for Papi, con esas caderas tan estrechas ...”
His dirty Spanish murmurs nearly do you in, shooting white-hot sparks of pleasure-pain arcing across your nerve endings. You swear your vision nearly whites out entirely when his calloused fingers find your swollen bud, stroking firmly in tight, rapid circles that have you keening.
That familiar, coiling tension is rapidly becoming too much to bear. You can feel your orgasm fast approaching, building and building with each punishing thrust into your greedy little hole and stroke against that hypersensitive bundle of nerves.
“Nando, Nando,” you pant, clutching desperately at his flexing biceps as your thighs begin to tremble uncontrollably. “I’m gonna, ah, fuck, I can’t-”
Fernando’s response is a series of harsh Spanish curses that would make a sailor blush. His mouth crashes against yours in a searing, messy kiss, swallowing your cries as he fucks you right through your release.
Wave after relentless wave of excruciating ecstasy crashes over you. You tremble and wail into Fernando’s mouth, pulled taut as a bowstring as he milks every last exquisite pulse from you with those sharp, unforgiving snaps of his hips.
Just when you think the pleasure searing along every nerve ending will break you into pieces, Fernando’s rhythm falters. He rears back, baring his teeth in a feral snarl that sends a fresh shock of desire arrowing straight to your core.
“Going to fill you up now, pequeña,” he grits out in a gravelly tone laced with strain. “Make you nice and, ah mierda, messy with Papi’s cum ...”
The sheer filth of his words, combined with his furious tempo draws animalistic whimpers from deep in your chest. You lock your ankles at the small of his back, taking him deeper as he starts to lose control.
“Please, Nando!” You beg shamelessly, reaching up to dig your fingers into the straining chords of muscle in his back and shoulders. “Please cum inside me, wanna be yours, wanna-”
Fernando cuts off your fervent cries with a harsh growl and then he’s slamming home one final time, burying himself to the hilt as he spills molten heat deep in your convulsing channel with a stream of strained Spanish curses.
You shudder and cry out at the incredible sensation of being filled so completely, holding him flush to you while he pulses and throbs. Fernando captures your lips in another searing kiss, fucking his tongue into your mouth in time with the shallow rolls of his hips as he spends himself.
Just when you think the incredible intensity of his release will never end, the shrill trill of a ringtone shatters the sweaty, panting silence of the bedroom.
Fernando goes rigid above you, finally breaking the fevered kiss with a curse that shoots straight to your over-sensitized core.
“Fucking hell, now?”
His tone is one of pure annoyance as his darkly tousled head whips towards the nightstand where his mobile is ringing incessantly. One large hand flexes against the sheets beside your head, ready to simply ignore the call.
Until, that is, he sees the caller ID and his entire demeanor shifts from one of irritation to something more sheepish. He immediately sits up on his haunches, the movement tugging at your overstuffed, abused entrance in the most delicious way and drawing a helpless whimper from you.
Fernando fixes you with a heated look, plush lower lip caught between his teeth as he drinks in your disheveled, satisfied state sprawled wantonly across his rumpled sheets. Only then does he make a sudden, aborted movement to grab the still-ringing phone, gaze flickering down to where you’re obscenely joined.
“Don’t you dare pull out,” you pant in warning, clenching down hard around him as he shifts to reach for the mobile. Fernando groans explosively at the vice-like grip, arm falling back to brace himself against the mattress.
“Insatiable,” he accuses with a dark chuckle. He somehow manages to snag the still-trilling phone without dislodging himself and you shamelessly squeeze down even tighter in petty retaliation. Fernando tosses you a smoldering glare that makes heat lick along your nerve endings before he finally answers.
“Hola?” His deep voice is rougher than usual, gravelly from the thoroughly ravished state you’ve put him in.
“Fernando! Mate, it’s me.” Your father’s crisp Aussie tone immediately filters through the speaker and you inadvertently clench down again in panic.
Fernando’s lips peel back in a mild wince before smoothing back into that trademark smug grin of his. He drops his free hand to splay possessively over your lower abdomen, thumb rubbing idle circles into the soft, oversensitized skin there as he regards you with dark, hooded eyes.
“Mark!” He greets your father with forced nonchalance, even as the pads of his calloused fingers dip dangerously close to where you’re still intimately joined. “What can I do for you?”
There’s a pregnant pause during which you can practically picture the slight frown creasing your dad’s brow at Fernando’s strange tone. “Er, sorry to bother you, Nando. I was just ringing to see if my daughter made it to you alright?”
You suck in a sharp breath, eyes going wide as Fernando’s lips quirk up in a devilish smirk. Instead of answering right away, he drags the tip of one finger agonizingly slowly through your damp curls in a wordless warning.
Biting your lip to stifle a moan, you obediently stop clenching your internal muscles, allowing Fernando to sink that few extra incredible inches back inside you with a roll of his hips. His eyes burn with smug satisfaction when you keen softly at the feeling of being so deliciously full.
“She arrived safe and sound,” Fernando finally replies, voice gone low and rough in a way that has your thighs trying to clench instinctively. He holds you open by digging the heel of his palm against your mound, lips twitching when you whimper. “I’m taking very … very good care of her. You don’t need to worry.”
Another pause from your father’s end, this one even longer. You can picture the perplexed furrow in his brow deepening as he tries to figure out the strange undercurrent in Fernando’s tone.
“Right … well, good then. I just wanted to check in and make sure she got there okay after that whole mess with her asshole of an ex.”
You shudder at the memory, hips shifting restlessly against Fernando’s calloused palm in a plea for friction, pressure, anything. He simply watches you squirm with darkly glittering eyes, lazily rubbing his thumb in soothing little circles just below your navel.
“Trust me,” Fernando finally rumbles, voice gone low and graveled in a way that sends a shiver of desire arcing down your spine. “Your little girl is being very well looked after, in every way.”
Your cheeks burn hot at the blatant innuendo lacing his words. Fernando’s smirk widens, like he enjoys seeing you so flustered, before he continues in a tone of exaggerated innocence. “She’s been … quite the handful, really, but I don’t mind.”
Your breath hitches in your throat and you shoot him a betrayed look, clenching reflexively around the thick length still sheathed snugly inside you. Fernando arches one artfully sculpted brow as if in challenge, using his free hand to firmly grip one of your thighs and wrench your legs obscenely further apart in clear retaliation.
You muffle a whimper into the sheets as the new position allows him to grind deeper, that delicious friction quickly unraveling your will to stay quiet. You can already feel the coil of need building rapidly once more with each shallow roll of Fernando’s hips.
“What was that?” Your dad’s mildly bewildered voice suddenly crackles over the line, jarring you back to the reality of the situation.
Cheeks burning with a mixture of arousal and mortification, you blindly grasp for one of the pillows to muffle the series of pitiful noises now spilling past your lips as Fernando ups the intensity of his thrusts.
He leans in closer until the two of you are practically nose-to-nose, teeth sinking into that plush lower lip when you instinctively tighten around him like a velvet vise. Fernando’s eyes roll back briefly before fixing back on you, dark and fathomless as the depths of the Mediterranean.
“Nothing to worry about over here,” he pants through gritted teeth, one hand leaving its bruising grip on your thigh to curl around the back of your neck and pull you into a searing, filthy kiss designed to swallow any incriminating sounds. “Like I said. Just … taking very good care of your little girl.”
There’s one final confused little hum from your father before the line clicks off with a hollow beep. Fernando instantly drops the phone and slants his mouth hungrily over yours once more, all thoughts of the call instantly forgotten as he resumes fucking up into you with renewed vigor.
“My little girl, aren’t you pequeña?” He grates against your lips, punctuating each word with a scorching grind of his hips that has sparks bursting behind your eyelids. “Going to be a good girl and cum all over Papi’s cock again, sí?”
You can only nod wildly in agreement, nails raking down his broad back as that incredible tension inside you winds tighter and tighter. Fernando swallows your cries with his wicked, talented mouth, until finally you go rigid in his arms, back arched as your release rockets through you like a shockwave.
This time Fernando doesn’t even attempt to stifle your hoarse, animalistic keening, merely rearing back to watch in fascination as your complexion colors and your eyes roll back. He growls your name like a prayer, hips snapping erratically as he uses your convulsive flutters to chase his own high. Fernando’s chiseled features contort in pleasure, teeth sinking into his own lip hard enough to draw blood when you bear down with the vise-like strength of your release.
“F-Fuck … gonna … gonna fill you up again,” he grits out, thick cock jerking deep inside your molten depths. “Make you … gonna ah … make you mine forever this time, pequeña ...”
The gravelly promise in his tone somehow penetrates the sweaty, lust-hazed cocoon surrounding you. Your eyes fly open just in time to witness Fernando’s own clenched shut, jaw dropped in a growl as he buries himself to the hilt with one final, bruising grind of his pelvis.
You cry out at the incredible sensation of his release flooding your already stuffed channel with scorching ropes of thick seed. Fernando lets out a shuddering moan of pure gratification, hips working in short, shallow thrusts to pump every last pulse of his sticky essence into your greedy little womb.
When the last tremor of his climax has wrung through him, he drops bonelessly on top of you in a sweaty, panting tangle of sated limbs. You whimper quietly at the delicious feeling of his weight pinning you to the mattress, his softening length still lodged snugly inside as the two of you bask in the afterglow.
Fernando nuzzles into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, pressing lazy, opened-mouthed kisses to your slick, overheated skin. His talented fingers trace abstract patterns up and down your sides, touch reverent as his gravelly voice rumbles against you.
“Going to get you nice and full, pequeña. Fill you up again and again until my baby takes ...”
A violent shudder wracks through you at the filthy promise in his words. Fernando chuckles darkly, gathering you closer against his sweat-slicked chest as his hand drifts down to cup your lower abdomen with tender possessiveness.
“That’s it, let it sink in,” he croons, fingertips rubbing in gentle circles. “My seed taking root deep inside this sweet little womb, putting a baby in your belly ...”
He punctuates the words with a firm press of his palm that has you gasping, walls fluttering greedily around the thick shaft still impaling you. Fernando makes a noise of deep approval low in his throat.
“Going to keep you just like this,” he vows in a tone that brooks no argument, hot and heavy against the sensitive shell of your ear. “Barefoot and pregnant in my bed, that gorgeous body swollen and glowing with my hijo ...”
You whimper at the image his words conjure up — your belly rounded and stretched taut with Fernando’s child, heavy breasts leaking as you cradle his son or daughter. Fernando husks out a laugh at your reaction, nosing along the line of your jaw until you meet his heated gaze.
“You like that idea, don’t you pequeña?” His eyes glitter with a mixture of desire and predatory satisfaction. “Being tied to me forever, in the most permanent way possible?”
You can only nod dumbly, suddenly rendered mute by the depths of your own yearning. Of course you want that — to carry this incredible man’s legacy inside you for all the world to see. To belong to him, completely.
Fernando rumbles his approval against your swollen lips, cupping the back of your head to angle your mouth for a tender, lingering kiss. When he finally breaks away, you try to chase his mouth with a breathless whimper of protest.
“Shh, patience, pequeña,” he murmurs indulgently, thumb stroking over your slick lower lip. His eyes are dancing with dark promise. “You’ll have plenty of time to take your fill of me in the coming months while I breed you over ...”
He kisses the words into the hollow of your throat, teeth grazing the rapid flutter of your pulse point.
“... and over ...” Fernando rolls you onto your back in one smoothly powerful motion, settling his weight over you as he lips trail a blazing path down your abdomen.
“... and over again.” His tongue dips briefly into your navel before he nuzzles lower, nose nudging through your damp curls until his warm breath ghosts over your overstimulated sex. You suck in a ragged gasp, thighs trembling with anticipation as Fernando glances up at you from under those ridiculously long lashes.
“Until it finally takes,” he finishes with a wicked grin before ducking down to swipe one firm lick through your folds. You nearly black out from the electric shock of pleasure-pain, broken cries echoing through the bedroom as Fernando sets to work thoroughly mapping every intimate inch of you with that devilishly skilled mouth and tongue.
True to his filthy promise, Fernando keeps you until the first rosy hints of dawn are just beginning to lighten the horizon outside, thoroughly ravishing your helpless body over and over again until you’re boneless and incoherent with satiation.
It’s only when the first few birds have begun to chirp their morning songs that he finally relents, blanketing you with his solid weight one last time. Fernando’s lips are kiss-swollen as they trail up the line of your throat to find yours in one more long, thorough kiss that leaves you totally plundered.
“Sleep now, pequeña,” he rumbles against your parted mouth, gathering you close as his hand drifts down to splay possessively over the slight tautness of your lower abdomen. “Let my release take nice and deep inside you ...”
You slip into unconsciousness to the sensation of Fernando’s calloused fingertips rubbing soothing circles over your skin and the imprinted promise of his low, sleep-roughened vows.
“I’m going to put a baby in you, pequeña. Going to breed you so full of my children until you’re round and glowing with them … that’s a promise.”
***
Six Months Later
Fernando can’t keep the swell of pride and possessiveness from blooming in his chest as he guides you through the paddock with a supportive hand on the small of your back. His dark gaze keeps flickering down to admire the swell of your belly peeking out beneath the flowing summer dress you’ve chosen for today.
He feels like a conquering king surveying his latest prize as you waddle adorably at his side, the golden sunlight caressing your features and lending a rosy flush to your glowing complexion. Fernando has never seen a more beautiful, ethereal sight than you in this moment — rounded with his child, your body transformed by the life blossoming within.
His hand subconsciously moves to cup the subtle curve of your belly as you pause to allow a team member to pass. Fernando feels a fresh surge of scorching desire and smug satisfaction race through his veins when you instinctively cover his hand with yours, cradling his palm against the taut swell.
“Easy there, pequeña,” he rumbles with a wolfish grin, leaning in until his lips brush the delicate shell of your ear. “We’re in public, remember? Wouldn’t want to give these pendejos an eyeful of how insaciable my little girl has become since getting knocked up ...”
A delightful shiver visibly ripples through you at his words, those gorgeous eyes fluttering shut for the briefest of moments before fixed back on him blown wide and dark with rekindled want. Fernando lets out a low chuckle of approval, arm winding around your waist to pull you flush against his side.
Just then, a familiar figure comes striding around the corner, brows low and thunderous as they zero in on the embrace Fernando has you locked in. Mark Webber falters mid-step as he takes in the rather obvious changes to your body, chin dropping in a comical picture of dumbstruck shock.
Fernando can’t resist angling the two of you forward just enough to emphasize the prominent curve of your belly straining against the flowy fabric of your summer dress. He watches your father’s expression morph from surprise, to confusion, then slowly … realization as the pieces begin to click into place.
Within seconds, Mark’s eyes have narrowed to slits of rage, mouth curling back in a snarl of anger as he picks up his pace and stalks towards the pair of you. Fernando’s own smug expression slips, features settling into a hard mask as he angles his body slightly in front of yours on instinct.
“You motherfucking piece of shit-” Your father snarls, face taking on an alarming reddish hue as he rears back and swings at Fernando.
Fernando manages to sidestep the worst of the blow at the last second, feeling only a glancing impact against his left cheekbone before Mark closes in again with balled fists raised. Behind him, you let out a strangled cry of dismay, reaching out helplessly to grasp at the back of his shirt.
“Dad, no! Fernando, please-”
But Fernando is already sinking into a fighting stance, knees slightly bent and weight evenly distributed. He blocks another wild swing from Mark with ease, allowing the Australian’s momentum to carry him past so Fernando can land a swift, open-handed punch against the side of his head.
The sharp retaliatory crack has Mark stumbling sideways, snarling like an enraged animal. For one brief, wildly intense moment, the two former rivals simply square off — sizing one another up like they’ve done a hundred times before on various circuits when they were both still competing.
From anyone else, Fernando might have been able to laugh off this overreaction, shrug it aside as the misguided anger of a hotblooded father learning his young daughter is now expecting. But this is Mark Webber — a man who has proven himself as fiery and formidable an opponent as they come.
Fernando won’t admit it aloud, but a tiny thrill of excitement races through him at the prospect of a proper throwdown with his old nemesis turned friend. He throws you a quick glance over his shoulder, assessing if he needs to move you further away before the situation escalates.
You surprise him by shaking your head adamantly, those beautiful eyes blazing with protective fury of your own as you plant yourself squarely in between the two men.
“Fernando, don’t hurt him,” you plead, gaze flickering between him and the bristling Aussie now clambering back to his feet. “He’s just-”
“Being a bloody psychopathic bastard,” Mark spits, wiping a hand across his rapidly swelling lip. His hateful glare lands accusingly on the prominent swell of your middle. “Fucking hell , Nando. She’s just a kid-”
Fernando feels his own temper ratcheting up several notches at the venom and dismissal lacing the other man’s tone. He takes an aggressive step forward, forcing you back behind the shield of his powerful frame.
“Don’t talk about her like she isn’t here to defend herself,” Fernando growls, unconcerned that they’re rapidly drawing an audience from the swarm of crew personnel surrounding them.
He arches a challenging brow at your father’s scathing glower. “What’s wrong? Upset that while you were off galivanting around the globe, I was putting a baby in your daughter’s belly?”
Mark lets out an outraged roar, lurching forward to throw another wild haymaker that Fernando easily ducks under. You cry out in distress, hands coming up to grip at Fernando’s biceps from behind as you try to bodily pull him away from the furious Australian’s reach.
“Both of you, stop!” Your shrill voice cuts through the tense alleyway, causing both men to pause for a split-second and glance towards you. “Nando, don’t provoke him! And you-” You aim an accusatory finger at your seething father. “Lay one more hand on Fernando and I swear to god-”
Whatever heated threat you were preparing goes unvoiced as a sudden aura of pain visibly ripples across your features, brow furrowing and lips parting on a pained gasp. Your hands instinctively fly down to cradle your belly, entire body locking up with tension.
Fernando’s heart leaps into his throat as he recognizes the clear signs of distress from months spent doting upon your every subtle twinge and discomfort. Immediately, his previous temper fades into a dull, distant roar easily overshadowed by the all-consuming need to ensure your well-being.
“Pequeña?” He’s at your side in an instant, gripping your upper arms to steady you as a light sheen of perspiration blooms on your brow. “Breathe through it, mi amor … just breathe, okay?”
“I-I’m fine,” you manage in a tight voice. “Just a twinge. The excitement is probably too mu-ahh!”
You gasp again, nails digging punishingly into Fernando’s forearms as your knees threaten to buckle. All hints of masculine posturing flee his mind as Fernando smoothly sweeps you up into a secure bridal carry, heedless of the soft whimpers of discomfort now trickling past your parted lips.
He locks eyes with a stunned Mark over your bent crown, gaze impassive and steady. “You heard her. The excitement is too much. We’re leaving.”
Without waiting for a response, Fernando swivels on his heel and marches back the way you’d originally come with you cradled protectively against his chest. He keeps his strides measured and unhurried, but still manages to put a fair amount of distance between the pair of you and your father’s petulant anger in a matter of moments.
Once you’ve rounded a quiet corner alcove, Fernando gently lowers you to a relatively secluded stack of equipment crates, bracing your lower back and guiding you into a seated position.
“Wait here,” he murmurs against your hairline, dropping a fleeting kiss to the rapidly dampening strands stuck to your brow. Fernando’s fingers ghost down to cradle your belly once more, silently assessing for any areas of increased tension. “I’ll be back in just a moment with some water and a physio, alright?”
You nod weakly, squirming to rest back against the cool metal behind you as another pained grimace flits across your features. Fernando feels his heart clench at the wretched, lost expression clouding your eyes.
Cupping your cheek, he tilts your chin up until you meet his heated gaze. “Don’t look so afraid, pequeña. Everything will be fine, you’ll see.”
Fernando leans in until his nose brushes against yours, allowing the familiar closeness and the scent of his cedar and bergamot cologne to soothe you. “Our little one is just reminding us who’s boss, that’s all. But Papi’s here … I’ll take care of both of you, sí?”
You manage a weak smile at that, some of the tension bleeding from your delicate features as you nod against his palm. Fernando presses one more lingering kiss to your brow before reluctantly pulling away.
“I’ll be right back, mi vida. Just breathe deeply for me in the meantime.”
With one final reassuring caress to your belly, Fernando turns on his heel and strides back out into the bustling paddock area. His jaw is set in a tense line, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as he mentally catalogs which team staff he needs to track down.
Rounding a corner, Fernando very nearly barrels straight into the rigid form of your father standing there with arms crossed, clearly waiting to waylay him. The Aussie’s expression is thunderous, eyes blazing with hurt and undisguised fury.
“So that’s it then?” Mark bites out in a tone of barely restrained aggression. “You’ve gone and knocked up my little girl. My own daughter, Nando ...”
Fernando holds up a dismissive hand, in no mood to allow your father’s misplaced anger to provoke another confrontation — not when you’re so clearly in distress. “Don’t start with me again.” His tone is low, brooking no argument. “Your daughter is safe and being well looked after, that’s all that matters right now.”
With that, he moves to sidestep around Mark, only to find his path blocked by the other man’s broad chest as he steps directly into Fernando’s space. The former World Champion narrows his eyes warningly, feeling his temper ratcheting back up in the face of such insolence.
“Look, you arrogant Spanish prick,” Mark growls, lips peeling back in a menacing sneer. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, but-”
Fernando abruptly cuts him off with a harsh bark of humorless laughter, dark eyes glittering dangerously. “A game?” He shakes his head slowly, expression one of vaguely disbelieving contempt. “You really think that’s all this is to me? Getting one up on you by deflowering your little girl and leaving her pregnant, alone, and disgraced?”
The other man flinches almost imperceptibly at the crass words, clearly thrown by Fernando’s frank disdain. The Spaniard presses on relentlessly. “Any man who would treat a situation like this so flippantly doesn’t deserve to consider themselves a real man at all — let alone a father.”
Mark’s face has turned an alarming shade of puce, whether from shame or sheer unchecked rage Fernando neither knows nor cares. He simply crowds further into the Australian’s space, heedless of how their chests nearly brush with each harsh exhalation.
“Make no mistake, I love that woman and the child she carries more than life itself,” Fernando states with conviction, cadence low and gravelly. “If you’re asking whether I intend to be there for them both as a partner, as a father … my answer is simple.”
He pauses just long enough to allow the weight of his next words to truly sink in.
“For as long as your daughter and my children will have me, you couldn’t pry me away from their sides with a fucking crowbar.”
Fernando holds your father’s seething gaze for one final beat, satisfaction lancing through him at seeing the other man seemingly robbed of his righteous anger. With a curt nod, he finally moves to brush past the speechless Australian without another word —intent on fetching the physio like he had originally set out to do.
Because in the end, Mark Webber’s approval means less than nothing to Fernando. All that matters is rushing back to your side and ensuring your safety and comfort. You and the new life blossoming within you are his entire world now.
As if to reaffirm the point, you suddenly appear around the corner, one hand braced protectively under the swell of your abdomen.
“Nando,” you breathe in a tremulous voice, blindly reaching for him. “The little one misses you ...”
Fernando instantly abandons all thoughts of confronting Mark, or retrieving a physio, or anything else as he rushes to gather you up in his arms once more. He cradles you tenderly to his chest as your fingers twist almost convulsively in the fabric of his Hugo Boss shirt, dark eyes wide and pleading.
Fernando glances down at you cradled protectively in his arms, heart clenching at the distressed furrow of your brow and shallow, panting breaths.
Readjusting his grip, he dips his head to murmur a string of soothing Spanish endearments against your sweat-dampened hairline as he carries you through the winding labyrinth of the paddock. His strides are measured but purposeful, not rushing — he needs to get you somewhere quiet and comfortable to recover from the ordeal.
Finally, Fernando spots a secluded alcove tucked away behind a cluster of tires. He quickly guides you over and gently lowers you onto an emptied workbench, cocooning you against his broad chest.
“There, there, pequeña,” he croons, lips brushing your brow. “Just breathe nice and deep for Papi, just like we practiced ...”
You nod weakly, fingers reflexively flexing against the solid planes of Fernando’s abdomen as you struggle to pull in deep gulps of air. He deftly tugs the neckline of your summer dress aside to expose more of your flushed skin, using the hem to dab away the perspiration beading on your chest and throat.
“That’s it, mi vida,” he praises in that dark, soothing timbre. “Just like that, easy does it ...”
Slowly, the tension bleeds from your features as the worst of the discomfort subsides. Fernando doesn’t dare loosen his supportive embrace, nor does he tear his increasingly heated gaze away from your parted lips as each measured exhale puffs across his skin.
“Better now?” He murmurs, thumb tracing the delicate arch of your cheekbone reverently. A rosy blush stains your complexion when you nod meekly, lashes fanning across those glorious cheekbones.
“Good girl,” Fernando rumbles, helpless not to drink in the gorgeous picture you make — cheeks flushed, lips swollen, eyes glazed with lingering stardust. He grips your jaw in a firm caress, tilting your chin up until your gazes lock.
“Because I must admit,” he husks softly, gaze darkening to molten whiskey. “Seeing you like this, with my child safe inside you … has me feeling quite possessive, pequeña.”
You shudder visibly at his words, tongue darting out to wet those plump lips in a blatant show of want. Fernando doesn’t miss the subtle gesture, allowing his gaze to dip briefly to track the slick path your tongue carves before fixing back on your rapidly dilating pupils.
“Would you like that, hmm?” He lowers his voice to a sensual rumble, skimming his thumb across your lower lip in a wordless command for access. “Having Papi show you just how adored, how cherished you and our little one inside you truly are?”
A whimper catches in the back of your throat as you readily accept the gentle press of Fernando’s calloused digit between your parted lips. Your eyes flutter shut on a trembling exhale as he slowly begins to glide the thick pad of his thumb across that heavenly softness, careful not to scrape the sensitive skin with his nail.
“That’s it, pequeña,” he growls, a tad hoarse as desire visibly burns behind those long lashes. “Suckle for me, let me take care of you both nice and proper ...”
Fernando rocks forward ever so slightly, allowing the swollen curve of your belly to brush against his solid abs with each tiny shuddering breath you drag in through your nose. He keeps up the lazy, hypnotic strokes of his thumb until you’re completely transfixed — hips shifting restlessly against his thighs and soft, muffled mewls escaping past the seal of your swollen lips.
“Such a good girl,” he murmurs, voice pitched low enough to rasp straight through you and ignite every raw nerve ending. “So sweet and responsive for Papi … going to reward that gorgeous little mouth in just a moment, I promise.”
You whine wantonly around his thumb in response, eyes fluttering back open to reveal pupils blown wide with naked yearning. Fernando chuckles indulgently, thumb tracing the delicate bow of your lower lip one final time before retreating fully.
“So eager,” he tuts without any real admonishment. Leaning in close, he angles his head to brush kiss-swollen lips against the outer shell of your ear. “Don’t fret, pequeña. I’ll take such good care of both of you right here, right now ...”
Fernando drops a lingering series of kisses along the line of your jaw, letting his lush mouth trail lower and lower with each heated murmur.
“Will remind you exactly who you belong to … who made you … who put this child in your belly ...”
His final words are an exhale ghosting out across your thundering pulse. Fernando immediately latches on with his teeth, nipping and sucking a series of stinging, possessive marks into your sensitized flesh that has you arching against him with a strangled cry of pure bliss.
Out here, cloaked in the shadow of the paddock where anyone could stumble across the two of you — your father included — and discover just how thoroughly Fernando has claimed you. The taboo thrill of it all is utterly intoxicating.
As your trembling fingers find purchase in his clothes, dragging him nearer with insistence, Fernando feels that familiar molten lick of possessive pride unfurl deep in his core. You are his now, fully and completely — mind, body, and soon … family.
Just the way it was always meant to be.
569 notes · View notes
jaylaxies · 1 day
Text
HARD THOUGHT !
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pairing: jake x fem!reader
cw: smut, daddy kink, manipulation, corruption kink, usage of nicknames.
warning: 18+ content, minors dni
a/n: hihi i got a lil carried away w this one! it’s inspired by these two asks here and here! :3 reposting this cause it got community labelled!
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Jake is sweet, almost too sweet to be true and that’s why you trust him blindly with everything. The way he never hesitates to give you prolonged hugs, the way his eyes always provide you with comfort and his words sound like sweet melody to you, it’s a given fact that you won’t want anyone else to teach you how to kiss but your best friend Jake, you simply want to be good for your crush, Heeseung, and so you most certainly didn’t wish to be totally clueless when it comes to such things.
Jake was more than willing to help, “of course i'll help, we don’t want Heeseung to be unsatisfied now, do we?” He’d chuckle, hating the fact that you wanted to do it for another man, yet he had his own ways to keep you close to him, one being-providing you help for his own benefit. “But Jake, won’t it be wrong if I use you for this?” You’d ask, genuine concern plastered on your face and he finds it cute how you think it’s you who’s using him, when in reality, it’s quite the opposite.
“Oh, princess. You don’t have to worry about it, I just want to help you,” he’d smile, making you feel at ease as he starts proceeding with his plan, the first step—kissing.
He’d pat his lap, making your eyes go wide but you’d follow and sit on his lap, straddling him on the couch as his big hands would hold you in place and he’d ask you to kiss him, smiling when you lean in for a delicate peck, groaning when he bites your lip, eliciting a weak moan out of you.
“Jake—” you’d whimper, unknowingly pressing your clothed cunt on his hardening cock, feeling a newfound feeling erupt in your lower abdomen, even more so when he cups your cheek, tilting your face to get a better access to your lips, his plush ones serenading you like there’s no tomorrow, “that’s not what you should call me, princess,” he mutters.
Your eyes widen, looking up at him in question, “Heeseung would love it if you call him daddy,” he smirks, “say it, baby.” He’d urge you, throwing Heeseung’s name to strengthen his case. “D—daddy?” You’d whisper, allowing him to caress your swollen lips. “That’s right, princess. You’re such a good girl for me.” He makes sure to take his time kissing you dumb that night, to the point you lose your sleep, clutching your chest as the vivid images of Jake come back to your mind, you wanted more.
And each day, he taught you more, touching the expanse of your body, getting rid of your clothes turn by turn. The wetness returned each time you tried something new with him, your body felt as if it was on fire as he pushed you into your subspace in all the right ways.
“Daddy!” You moaned, gripping the bed sheet when he tasted your wetness for the first time, his warm breath made it tingle to the point you were shivering. “That’s it babygirl, just trust daddy, yeah?” He said against your folds, accent deeper than ever as he immersed himself in eating you out, giving you your very first orgasm.
You were dazed, wanting more and more. Then came the day you finally saw his cock, his eyes staring at you with such intensity as you could only look at his veiny, leaking cock with innocent and curious eyes.
He grunted when you held him, “you’re doing so well, princess. So good for daddy,” he lets out, holding the back of your head gently as you continued to do just as he directed, smiling once he fills your mouth as his thick cum spurts out on your tongue, making you want to gulp it down, “wanna be so good for daddy always.” You’d smile, forgetting about why you were doing this in the first place, Heeseung wasn’t the one you thought about these days, rather, it was your daddy Jake.
“Tell me what you want, princess?” He’d ask with a sweet smile, which almost looked like a smirk, “daddy,” you’d cry out, “want y—your cock in m—me, I can't wait anymore,” you’d tell him as he’d kiss your tears away, “daddy will give you everything you want, babygirl,” he’d pat your head lovingly despite being in such a compromising position, his tip rubbing on your entrance. He doesn’t rush, he loves seeing you squirm, blabbering out words which do not make sense just because you’re so enraptured by the man on top of you—your daddy who’s more than willing to provide you with everything you need.
He loves it, how fucked up his princess looks with her smudged lipstick and mascara running down her cheeks with her crystalline teardrops, which keep on flowing with the immense pleasure you receive. He loves that he’ll get to fuck you, that his cock will be the first to enter your prettiest cunt, which is his and his only. You were reliant upon him for pleasure, nothing else felt good without your daddy and when he finally gave you the taste of his cock buried deep in your pussy, it felt more pleasurable than it hurt.
“Daddy—” you whisper, eyes closing as you let him take over and kiss you, his hands all over your body, as if he had memorized you completely, touching the most sensitive spots as he thrusted even harder in your leaking pussy, your walls squeezing his cock to the point he couldn’t help but groan out, “so wet for daddy’s cock, yeah? You like it, baby? That’s my good fucking girl, all mine.” He’s right, you’re all his now and you won’t want it otherwise, making a creamy mess on his cock.
Your mind fuzzy with his thoughts through and through, ruining your innocence as he moulded your brain in such a way that you couldn’t help but yearn for him.
And just like that, Jake had successfully corrupted you to the point of no comeback.
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chaosandmarigolds · 3 days
Text
I’m laying in bed and drastically bored so I present-
Whatever this could be classified as (fem!reader, (literally a millisecond mention of pregnancy) ypos cause it’s written on my phone :) )
Dad!Simon, who has a sick spouse and child at the same time and he doesn’t feel great either but he’ll DIE with that information
Simon who got sprite, saltines, and just about everything he could think of from the store and yet you and Ollie were still unable to keep anything down
You laugh it off, saying it happens every year, just a school bug and you’ll be fine in no time
Ollie is playing it up, he doesn’t feel good but as soon as he sees his father look worried and willingly offer him ice cream for breakfast- oh lil guy is going to Oscars for his performance
Simon who peppers kisses to your skin even though you every much tell him he will get sick- well tricks on you because he already feels sick
Simon who calls Missus Price for that soup she made that one time from like eight years ago (technically it had been for her husband John but John was unconscious at the time so Simon and Johnny had it-anyway-) when they were deployed and she delivered!
Missus Price, Eliza, who tsk tsks at the state of the Riley family and tells Simon to sit because good God everyone looked like they were on the brink of death and that would not do
So she happily tidies everything up, puts some defusers on to help the congestion, makes sure everyone takes their medication (has to literally threaten Ollie, but as soon as Grandad was brought up the child obliged) made two meals and put them away, did the laundry, and left a little note “Feel better, loves.” Before leaving around midnight that night.
Simon who really woke up feeling a lot better, stretching in the bed to find Ollie laying diagonally across the bed still fast asleep and you were no where to be seen- expect for leaning against the cold bathtub in the bathroom
Simon who groggily sits down next to you, eyes squinting against the light and moving you to lean into him
“This sucks.”
“I know, ‘a jus drainage though, it’ll go away.”
“Allergies suck.”
“Agree with ya.”
A few moments pass
“Your fever broke.”
You’re not wrong, but the way your rasped and hoarse voice mumbles it almost made him laugh, “Oh? Ho’ ya know?”
“You’re sweaty, that’s how. And olls-“
“Still sleeping.”
“Mmkay.”
Simon who would happily carry you to the ends of the earth but at the moment back to bed would do
Simon who went down to the kitchen to get your tea when he found the note, reading it and giving a silent thank you to whatever god sent him such a sweet woman- yet faltered when he sees the little blue and white box, it’s a sticky note attached saying “just in case”
Simon who didn’t think about and brought you the tea and turned on the tv, having you tucked under his arm and Ollie very groggily watching Bluey
(Yeah idk what this is, maybe I had too much melatonin. I’m so sorry you’re subjected to this. Anyway….thats it <3)
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steddiecameraroll · 2 days
Text
Are we written in the stars, baby, or are we written in the sand?
Eddie acts like it's not eating away at him. This thing with Steve. They're friends, but friends don't screw each other's brains out. Do they?
Eddie wants to know what they are. Because he's not sure his heart is going to last much longer under the current circumstances.
Sure, he could ask Steve if they're the matching tattoos kinda thing or just a number written on a hand kinda thing. He hasn't yet, though. He's been spending months asking himself in his own head, hoping the answer would appear one day. It hasn't.
Jeff says Eddie's doing this to himself, has scolded him plenty of times since Eddie started whining about the situation. Eddie doesn't want to admit Jeff's right, but it's getting to the point he's not going to be able to ignore it much longer.
Every time Eddie slides into the driver side of his van after a night with Steve, his heart cracks a little bit more. This morning will, most likely, be no different.
"So, I'm going to head out."
"Yeah, OK." Steve smiles at him, his favorite coffee cup cradled in his hands, and Eddie could crawl into the man's lap and never leave but instead, he gives Steve a nod and spins on his heels.
Steve doesn't follow him to the door. He hasn't since they started messing around, but Eddie wishes he would. He thinks it would be nice getting that sweet goodbye kiss. Then being able to look at the front door when he's pulling away from the curb, and seeing Steve smiling at him and waving.
When did Eddie become such a romantic?
None of this bothered him at first. Nope, totally OK with the whole thing, but it's almost like every touch of Steve's lips or grip of his fingers compounds breaking Eddie's resolve.
Honestly, it fucking hurts.
But he’s a big boy so he sucks it up and keeps his head down, trudging to the door. He’s done this multiple times a week for months now. This morning isn’t any different.
“Eddie?”
Eddie’s feet stop along with his heart. He’s pleading desperately in his head, when he turns to see Steve standing at the end of the hallway. He looks as nervous as Eddie’s feeling.
“Would you- do you maybe wanna hang out today? If you have plans or whatever,” Steve scrunches his face. “I thought y’know, if you didn’t have any plans, we could hang out. Or g-go do something, together? If you wanted.”
“Yeah,” the word comes out on a puff of air. “I’d love to, actually.”
And the smile that appears on Steve’s face is blinding, written in the stars bright. Maybe Steve’s wondering too, been keeping distance between their hearts for safe keeping, and not because of lack of want.
“Just to be super clear,” Eddie takes a cautious step toward Steve. “This isn’t just hanging out, right?”
“Um,” Steve presses his lips together and gives a tight shrug. “What do you mean?”
Eddie stops moving once he’s standing in front of Steve. He wants to trust his gut, knows he should because it’s never steered him wrong before, but Steve’s hiding it so well. He needs to know for sure, so he reaches his hand out to take the tips of Steve’s fingers. Once their skin touches, he hears a soft sharp inhale from Steve and gets his answer.
Eddie pulls Steve closer until they’re wrapping their arms around each other. “Steve,” Eddie breathes.
“Hmm?” Steve leans his face into Eddie’s neck and slides his hands up the muscles of the man’s back.
Eddie can’t find the right words. This feels like it means something. This moment, as they hold each other with no motivation other than to touch, feels more intimate than anything they’ve done in Steve’s bedroom.
Eddie squeezes his arms tightly around Steve’s body, silently begging to never make him let go. “I wanna stay. Please, let me stay.” He’s whispering so quietly he’s not sure Steve can hear him.
Steve nods in Eddie’s neck while pressing a soft kiss against the skin. “I don’t want you to go. I never want you to go.”
Eddie huffs, squeezes his eyes together, and pulls Steve in somehow tighter. “Me either.”
Steve untucks and pulls back to make eye contact. “Will you go on a date with me?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
coffee? ☕️🍩💕
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major-comet · 3 days
Text
thinking about red vs blue is crazy because it's like:
this is a story about how you can't keep chasing ghosts forever. there's alien/human mpreg.
holding onto the past is holding you back - you have to learn to let go and say goodbye. ed robertson from the barenaked ladies plays a guy who (jokingly?) tells his soldiers that if he weren't their CO he'd make them call him daddy.
family isn't always defined by appearances and you may find it in those you least expect. the aliens speak entirely in blargs and honks.
everything we do is driven by love - love for your current companions and loves that have been lost along the way. it has one of the most intense and longest running queer-baits i've ever personally witnessed.
veterans aren't given the proper support to be able to return to a civilian life, and this systemic issue causes problems for everyone in all levels of society. there's a homophobic bomb.
you can't change what's happened to you and the ones you love; you just have to find a way to keep moving forward. one of the main characters only speaks in poorly translated spanish.
everyone has the capacity to change and be better. it has one of the most convoluted and complicated time travel plots i have ever seen.
it's an incredible piece of media and proof that you can create something incredible with the limited tools available to you. there are chunks of it that are borderline unwatchable.
it's changed the way I approach storytelling forever. i can't easily recommend it to pretty much anyone.
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hecateslore · 3 days
Note
Hey! I really like your spirit and your posts which ain't about fics, that's hilarious!!! And I also have an idea that Sugar daddy Ghost with reader whose parents are rich and she's beautiful, has nice body so her ego is much taller than her but Ghost just dicks her down=))) I'd truly appreciate if you answer my request 🎀 TAKE CARE❤️
Thanks!💗 I'm kind of rocking with idea A LOT, though it's not really sugar daddy!Simon just hellarich!reader MDNI mentions of alcohol if that is not your thing keep it moving!
.・゜゜・ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ・゜゜・.
You and a couple of your girlfriends decided to go to a that janky dive bar a couple streets down from the nightclub you all usually go to. Your best friend was graduating and before her schedule gets hectic, you all decided to take her out to party one more time before she goes back home.
You entered the small bar, twisting your nose up the second you get a look around the room. Seeing all the old biker men, some sloppy drunk and others playing pool while smoking. It wasn't until one man caught your eye. He was tall, huge, he looked quieter than the others who were howling with laughter.
"I want the one with the handle bars." One of your girlfriends said over your shoulder, You giggle along with her understanding the appeal, he was cute, but not like the other one- who was now staring back at you. You avert your gaze back to your friends quickly, butterfly's in your stomach while feeling his eyes on you.
At the bar, you were having a good time, a slight buzz going on but nothing too serious. After all, you still have to get to the nightclub. So you sip slowly, checking every now and then to see if the mystery man was checking you out. "I'm gonna go talk to mustache," You friend tickles your exposed shoulder, "Come on." She nods, smiling smugly.
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪
"You want to buy me a drink?" She rested her hands on his shoulder, batting her eyelashes, smiling coyly; playing a rather charming trick. Simon eyed you while you stood beside her. Your arms crossed squishing your boobs together making them spill over your low-cut blouse.
He sipped his beer, looking over your figure, taking a mental picture of those tiny shorts that made your legs standout. You smiled politely at Price when your friend introduced you, giving him a small wave. You looked at the other two men who were ogling you, practically foaming at the mouth, you cringed crossing your arms even tighter, taking note of how drunk they were, whooping every five minutes then chugging their beers to the point they almost gag.
"You want something to drink?" His deep voice says, snapping you out of your thought. "I'm fine." You say, "Too good for beer?" He chuckles, sipping the foam that sat on the top, "Not a fan of Guinness."
Simon cocks a brow, nodding the minute he notices your change in behavior, more peeved than anything. "I can get you something else.." You think about it for a second, looking back at your friend who was all over "mustache", making out with him on the bar stool. "Sure."
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪
One gin and tonic later, you were sitting on the barstool next to Simon, going on about how you hate when you go out with your friends because they always do "this stuff", getting with random guys and expecting them to call the next day.
"And you don't?" Simon asks, watching you wave your arms around, "Are you crazy? I would never let myself." You grab the lime wedge, eating at the pulp, "I'm too good for that kind of thing." You watch your friend lead Price formally known as mustache to the bathroom.
"Do you?" You cock a brow at him, He only smiles, showing his dimple, and you roll your eyes, "And is that what you think I'm gonna do?" You lean in. "Wasn't planning on it." He chuckled when he noticed your shocked expression. "You said you were too good for it." He shrugs, making you smack your teeth, "Oh please, anyone in here would want to sleep with me."
Simon only shakes his head, watching a pout start to form on your face, "Now what?" a small smile hides behind his fake annoyed expression, You check the time on your phone the minute you see it's been more than an hour and the rest of your girlfriends left.
"My other friends left." You sigh, looking at the bathroom door, "And this girl is too busy getting fucked on the nasty floor." You huffed, checking the time again. "By the time we get there, the clubs gonna be closed!" You complain, "I can take you," He offers, watching you pull out a couple of loose dollars leaving it on the counter for the bartender. "It's fine, I'll just call an Uber and go home." You suck in a breath, deciding if you should knock on the bathroom door. "I'll feel better if you let me take you home."
"It's fine," You dismiss him, heading to the bathroom to let your friend know you're leaving. You knock on the door hearing her hiccuping moans, "I'm leaving!" You shout through the door, "That's fin-Oh my god!" You roll your eyes, walking back to where you left your bag.
"Thanks for the drink.." You smile, "I'll take you home." He nods to the door, "You're drinking." You point to the half full glass, "I only drank three and half, I'm good." You squint your eyes at him, not fully convinced
"Then we'll both get in the Uber, we can share one, I'll pay." You roll your eyes at his persistence, "Fine."
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪
When you get to your place Simon is taken back by the luxurious apartment complex.
You look at him, "I said, bye Simon." You snap him out of his trance, he looks at you "Oh right." You look at your apartment complex, "Do you want to come up?" You smirk, He looks taken aback, "Just for a drink." You shrug, giggling the second he nods.
You both exit the car, and walk to the entrance where you greet the older door man, "Late night?" He jokes, "Always." You smile at him politely, "Have a good night." He says, clicking your floor, "You too, Art."
Simon's still shocked, "I thought you were some college kid." He says and You snort, walking out of the elevator the second it dings. "No, no." You use the fob to unlock the door, "I work at my dads company."
Simon nods, taking in the interior that was decorated beautifully. Rugs, a chandelier, paintings, some extremely expensive art pieces. "Guess you don't need a man to take care of you then." He blurts, admiring the portrait of you. "Who says I don't like being taken care of?" You look at him with hooded eyes, the wetness in between your legs getting worse than what it was before.
"That's not what I mean." He chuckled, rubbing his jaw when he notices you walking closer to him. "I bet you can take care of me in that way.." You unbutton your shorts, keeping eye contact with him while you slide them off.
"I thought you don't do one night stands?" He bit the side of his cheek, his eyes on the way you play with the hem of your blouse. "I don't," You grab his belt loops, tugging him towards you, "I want you to take care of me," You say softly, your eyes flickering between his eyes and lips.
You grab his hand, putting it in between your legs, sighing when you feel him rub your covered cunt softly, "Are you gonna take care of me?" You breathe, moving your hand from his to make him look at you (why she kind of a pimp omg 🫢), Simon nods, You kiss his lips, pulling away to look at the lustful expression, licking his bottom and top lip making him smile.
You back off, "Come over here." You tell him, discarding the rest of your clothes as you walk towards the living room. Leaving nothing for his imagination, you grab his hand stopping him in the middle of the room, discarding his shirt.
You almost moan out loud, his big arms, toned stomach and pecks. You plant kisses on his chest and abdomen. You stand back up to kiss his mouth sloppily not giving him enough time to take all of you in, you were unbuttoning his pants, and trying to yank them down. "Woah, Woah." He grabs your hands, causing you to stop, "Slow down." He says, his voice smooth like honey. He takes his pants off, letting them fall to the floor.
At this point you're trembling for it, slobbering at the bulge that sat in his boxer, so close yet so far (too real).
"Let me see you.." He holds your face, Your eyes are wide and your lips wet with yours and his saliva, you look other worldly. He kisses your lips, it's deep and passionate. You moan pulling him to you bare body. You take one of your hands and play with his hair, messing up his overgrown buzzcut, "go lay down." He instructs you quietly, whispering against your lips. You do so, spreading your legs, giving him a full view of you, a shy smile on your face while he gets on the floor, going in between your legs. (MUNCH🫵🏼)
Simon kitten licked at your clit, making you moan softly. You push at his shoulders, telling him to give more. And he does, sucking harshly-maintaining eye contact. He pulls you lower, making sure to have your bottom hanging off the chair, he holds your legs- his head buried between your legs while you whine and moan.
Sighing, you try and spread your legs wider, wanting more of his mouth, he chuckles at the way you try and buck your hips. "Please, please?" You say weakly, grabbing his hair, pleading. He pulls away, taking his ring and middle finger in his mouth, sucking them.
Your eyes light up, you bite your lip watching him spread your legs again, sliding his large fingers inside. "Does that feel good?" He asks, smiling when you gasp, surprised at the change of pace. His fingers pumping out of you quickly. You pant at the feeling of his fingers touching that spongy part inside of you.
Then he slowed down, "Does it feel good?" He asks again, softly, looking in your eyes, "Mhm." You hum, gripping his wrist, trying to make him go faster. He goes slower and slower, "It feels good." you choke out, and then he finally speeds up, biting his lip in focus. They plunge in and out of you quickly making you squeal.
It all feels so good, your toes curling, calves flexing from his finger fucking. The pressure was overwhelming, he kept on. You could cry from the pleasure. Your moans got higher and squeakier, you were on the verge of screaming. That feeling you know all too well starts to build, but this time more intense and more at the front. You begin bucking your hips fucking yourself on his fingers, panting and writhing.
"Yes," You whine, grinding into his palm, it grazing your clit so nicely. "Yes, Yes, Yes." You repeated, working towards your orgasm. Simon watched quietly- still using his hand to please you. His cock twitched in his boxers, with his free hand he gripped his shaft, giving him some temporary relief. He was so focused on your cunt and how your arousal made your pussy shine. He was hypnotized.
Your orgasm was right there and with a couple more flicks of Simons wrist, your eyes shut and you could feel a gush between your legs, You moaned loudly while your pussy twitched and pulsed. You were so sensitive, still whining when he took his fingers out of you, stealing a taste for himself.
Once you calm down, you slide to the floor, making Simon sit on the couch, You bite your lip, "My turn." You giggle, pulling at the band of his underwear. He lifts his hips, helping you take them off. His cock springs out- You smile sneakily, so pleased with his size. You grab his cock, kissing his tip, making him hiss. You lick your lips tasting the remnants of his pre-cum. You hum in delight, making his already red cheeks even more crimson (she's a freak fr!). You lay your tongue flat on his head before you take it in your mouth. "Jesus.." He mutters, moaning when you bob your head on his cock slowly.
You pull back with a popping sound, going back to teasing his head, then taking him whole. Choking on his length, He adjusts his hips, pushing it further back making you gag. You take him out of your mouth, jacking him off, spitting on his head making it even more wet and sloppy. "I like you Simon," You look into his eyes, "I want you." You twist your hand, making him gasp and sit up.
"Yeah?" He says quickly, You speed up, "Yeah." You affirm, slowing down, he grunts and you speed up again. "Get off." Simon says and you stop, he stands, helping you off the floor (what a gentlemen. 😝).
He bends you over, one hand on the back of your neck, the other on your waist while your head rests on the couch cushion and your ass in the air. Simon grabs it roughly, squeezing at the meat of your behind, making you moan and push back against him. "I'll pull out." He pants, "I'm on birth control." You respond quickly, "I'm in love with you." He exaggerates, kissing your back before teasing your entrance with his cock.
"Don't say that to me." You joke, quickly shut down when he slides in effortlessly. Filling you in a way you never felt. Simon moans lowly, fucking into you slowly, the pulling out. Your cunt takes him so well, squeezing each time he slides in. You bite your lip, quieting your moans, trying to hears the noises coming from between your legs. Simon grabbed your arms pulling you up, "Don't be quiet," His voice was gravely, making your stomach feel warm. You nod profusely, giving in to the way his cock was making you feel.
His thrusts making thwack noises against your ass, your inner thighs wet with arousal, his cock would slip out and he'd waste no time putting it back in, fucking you hard and deep, you cry out in pleasure.
"Turn around," He ordered you, you oblige looking at him, waiting for him to say something else. He then grabs your legs lifting you up from the ground, his hands under your legs, guiding his cock into you. You mewl at him pushing in your swollen cunt. "Yeah baby?" He looks at you, watching your face contort with pleasure, "That feel good?" You hum, resting your head on his shoulder while he bounces you up and down. He puts his muscles to work lifting you up and down on it, "I'm gonna cum" You cry, whining when doesn't slow down. "Simon" You call out, your pussy leaking all over him. He sets you down on the couch, pulling your legs around his waist putting his full body weight on you.
He kisses you while he fucks you deeply, his pelvis grinding against yours. You're a panting mess, you have tears building, your mouth is wet with saliva. "I can feel you about to cum." He teases, chuckling deeply when you try to go in for another kiss. His thrusts get sloppier, slipping out of you when he goes too fast. You hold you breath when he slides in again, your cunt quivering when he thrusts in deeply.
You gasp when your second orgasm happens, holding his ass, trying to pull him in even more, when you hold him for a second longer Simon groans loudly in your ear, making small thrusts, too sensitive to keep going,
Simon rests on top of you, breathing in deeply, you rub his back while you both try and catch your breaths.
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪
You both clean up, taking a shower and then getting yourself and Simon a glass of water.
"Hi." You smile shyly, handing him the glass. He takes it thanking you, chugging it making you stare at him. "I think my dad left one of his robes around here." You think for a second leaving him in your bedroom.
"Here" You hand it to him, taking the towel that wasn't big enough to dry him. You watch him tie the know swiftly, you hop in bed, still wearing yours, your hair wrapped up, You laid down, exhausted from the events earlier. You pat the spot next to you, and he slides in, sighing at the feeling of your mattress. "I noticed your dog tag." You point at his neck, he looks down, he nods.
"That must be fun." You yawn, "Not at all." He responds, staring at the way your eyes flutter, trying to fight off sleep. "I meant what I said." You say, your eyes shut. "I don't do one night stands."
"Heard." He nods, tracing the pattern on your robe, "So you want me?" He smirks, cracking himself up. "Mhm." you hum, grabbing his hand, kissing his palm, "I can deal with that." He touches the side of your face before kissing your cheek. "You better."
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kichiyosh1 · 2 days
Text
An eternity with you: I'll choose you time and time again
Wanderer x fem!reader
You always seem to find your way back to him. What a troublesome being you are. Fortunately for you, he wouldn't be able to stop you either way. You're the one he chose, after all.
Crazy plot twist that will leave you baffled🫨(but i think i made way to obvious lol)
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"What's that?"
You always noticed the charm wanderer had next to his Anemo Vision. It was in the shape of a Sumeru rose, a vibrant chrysalis purple that, when caught in the light, would shine like the glowing bioluminescent beaches of Tatarasuna.
"Someone... gave it to me." For a moment, you could see the nostalgic expression on his face as he caressed the precious gem. It's an emotion so rare for him to display that you're unsure if you should be amazed by this new expression or perhaps a bit uneasy. It's rare for anything to capture the wanderer's attention, and if you were to assume how much that charm meant to him then
"This someone must be special," you subconsciously averted your gaze, but the wanderer was quick to pick up on it. He adorned a sly smirk on his face before it quickly turned to one of amusement. He let out a small chuckle before his eyes began to soften.
You sure like to poke around in my past, don't you?" He sighed, unsure where to start from there, but he's determined to convey his feelings.
"This person showed me the true meaning of eternity, something my creator was always so obsessed with. She was able to give it meaning to me with just her simple existence. It'd be an understatement if I wasn't just a little bit fond of this person."
You regretted asking. The look of bliss and admiration on his face made you feel like the most insignificant thing in the world right now, next to his special someone.
"Where is this person? Is she still around? Are you searching for her?"
"I'm... not exactly actively seeking her out right now."
"Do you keep the charm to remember her?" at that he simply looked to the side, a sheepish expression on his face before he went back to neutral.
"I've never forgotten her. She was the one who forgot me. We've crossed paths but she has no memory of me. She can't even recall the time she gifted me this charm."
He said it with such a casual tone that it left you feeling appalled.
How could she?!
You no longer regretted asking, only feeling indignation for what he's suffered through.
"Wanderer..." you put both hands on his shoulders, startling him in the process. You were too caught up in the moment to even notice the creeping tint of red on his face.
"What are you—"
"Please forget about her!"
"Wait I—"
"You deserve better! Deep down inside, actually maybe we need to dig down reaaaally deep but I know it's there! Someone like you deserves to find your own happiness! So please!"
Tears were gathering at the rim of your eyes, and you couldn't tell if they were from wanderer's sad, tragic love story or from the fear that if you didn't succeed in persuading him to move on, there wouldn't be any place for you in his heart.
The wanderer was baffled; he didn't expect this much of a reaction from you. It made his chest clench with that same feeling she always gave him—the same feeling you always gave him.
He composed himself, awkwardly patting you on the back in a way to comfort you. "It's not that big of a deal you know. It's not like the story ended there." you just kept on adding pages
"Well, guess what." You didn't give him time to think before you started tugging him by his arm.
"We're going somewhere to get your mind off her. Oh, and we'll need to get rid of that charm. That way, you won't think of her anymore."
Unbeknownst to you, you were the one that gave it to him.
"I don't think that's necessary," he says, but he's smiling. Your worried and determined attitude made it clear that you cared about him, and he couldn't be any more grateful.
"Nonsense, I'll buy you a gazillion way better charms, so you can forget about this one." You glared and pointed at the item like it was the bane of your existence.
"If you're that insistent, then I want it handmade." His hands, though he's done this many times before in the past, trembled slightly when he properly grasped your hand in his.
"Alright." You grinned and he looked fondly at you in return
It was amusing how you got so worked up about, well, yourself. But at the end of the day, it's still you, isn't it? It will always be you, you, you.
"I'm more than content that you're still by my side."
Before he erased himself from Irminsul, he never would have thought he deserved a happy ending with you. Fate had a funny way of leading people on, and he was led like a moth to a flame. Maybe an eternity with you wouldn't be so bad. No, he didn't mind, as long as it was you he'd be spending it with.
His precious sumeru rose.
─⁠──⁠──⁠──⁠─
"Heh, you always have a peculiar way of coming into my life."
"Is this about how I sneaked into the academia?"
"Mhm, don't worry. I'll make sure to leave the door wide open for you next time."
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Look I think I said it before somewhere but I need to talk about it again.
Aziraphale (in the show - his characterization differs in the book and I’m talking about show Aziraphale here) is a soft character. He started out as a soldier and he made the conscious decision to give the sword away to someone who would use it for protection, instead of keeping it to fight (leaving out the whole thing about War owning it later on cause that’s a different topic and definitely wasn’t what Aziraphale had in mind when giving away the sword). He also makes a conscious decision to look and act as non-threatening as possible, instead deciding to look soft and huggable and gay as hell a tree full of monkeys on nitrogen oxide. We don’t see him fighting anybody even when he gets the sword back - he just holds it and swings it around a little, he doesn’t even lift it when they face Satan (I think. I’d have to go back and watch again but I’m fairly sure he just stands in the background behind Adam with the tip of the sword facing the ground).
We know, or at least suspect from the scene where he fixes the hole in the wall that he’s physically strong and we know he’s still technically a soldier in Heavens eyes (Gabriel going „you’re a lean mean fighting machine“ and him having and possibly leading a platoon in Heaven) but he fully rejects that position in episode five to go back to Earth. He doesn’t want to be a soldier at all. He’s still a protector, we see this in season two with Jimbriel (he literally says „I said I would protect you and I will), but even THEN he doesn’t physically fight the demons entering the bookshop (he lights the circle but it’s Maggie and Nina throwing fire extinguishers and encyclopedias).
I know we as the fandom love badass Aziraphale. I love badass Aziraphale as well. I take a little bit of an issue with how him actually being badass is portrayed in fanfic sometimes because a lot of trying to make him physically fight demons comes across as trying to make him more masculine, more fit, less the campy, soft, kind character that he is and it annoys me. (A part of that is also how people try to make him more like Crowley, which I don’t like the undertones of either but that’s a whole different topic.) Both because I don’t like the implication that to make him badass you have to change that part of his character and because we’ve seen him being badass in the show already and it was either a) trying to protect humans/Crowley/Jimbriel, which involved a lot more threatening that him actually throwing hands or on one occasion b) him being bitchy (Furfur pronouncing his name wrong). It was him being kind and caring about people and their lives! And possibly their reading skills.
And I know there’s a lot of hope for more badass Aziraphale in season three, because hell yeah, Heaven getting obliterated from the inside? Absolutely. But when we get to see BAMF Aziraphale in season three (because I don’t doubt we will, in some form or other) I’d much rather see him be badass by outsmarting Heaven (magic tricks anybody?) and getting away with it or threatening the Metatron or whatever than by punching somebody in the face. And IF he does have to use physical violence, then I want there to be a reason for it and I want it to be portrayed as a bad thing. Like I want I to be the absolutely lowest point of the character because we know how much he detests doing it and he hates having to do it anyways.
In that case also want it to end with the Metatron dead in a ditch.
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papercorgiworld · 1 day
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A good excuse to kiss
The requested Theo and Mattheo version of ‘a good excuse to kiss’
In order to keep your best friend’s relationship a secret you have to distract a certain slytherin.
Aria (cameo by @justdizzie ) is your Gryffindor best friend and has a secret relationship with Draco.
Read the Enzo and Blaise version here.
Not really proofread, so let me know if there's any major errors that hurt your brain. I really wanted to write and post something for my 2000 reblogs milestone so this might be a bit rushed. Anyways, here's some Mattheo and Theo content, I feel like it's been a while since I wrote for them, so enjoy and lots of love to all of you.
Damn it, Aria, where are you? It was lunch time and you still hadn’t seen your friend. You were seriously getting worried, which brought you to the door of Draco’s room. You were pleased to find the Slytherin common room empty, since Aria and Draco’s relationship was top secret you really couldn’t bring her up around his friends. 
“I think we should get up.” Draco whispers softly as his hand strokes Aria’s soft hair. With still sleepy eyes she looks up at him. “But I’m so comfy.” Draco smiles and gives her a soft kiss on top of her head, before wrapping his arms around her.  
Your fist hits the door hard. “Malfoy!” You yell and immediately you take a step back hearing a lot of noise and loud whispers. “What do we do? Quick hide.” “Where?” You roll your eyes. “It’s me!” You yell and Aria on the other side of the door relaxes her shoulders. “It’s (y/n). Thank Godric." Draco relaxes as well and can’t help but smile. “We’ve got to stop doing this.” He sighs and Aria frowns at his words. “I mean the secrecy, not the dating!” Draco immediately explains. “Idiot. Like I would ever let you go.” He mutters, before kissing his girlfriend so she can’t complain about his little insult. 
The door opens and you see Aria’s messy black hair and apologetic brown eyes. “We overslept. Keep guard for a moment, I’ll be there in sec.” You nod, but as soon as the door closes you shake your head. Being the only friend that knows of their secret relationship was an honor, but also a full time job. Luckily for you, everyone was at lunch so no one would come looking for them, except…
Theo
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You hear someone enter while cursing. “Where is that little sneaky slippery guy now?” You quickly scan the room to see if you can hide somewhere, but you don’t really see a way out and also you suddenly remember that you have to stand guard. Theo’s agitated gaze lands on you, fidgeting and awkwardly staring around the room. Things just got weirder, but also more interesting for Theo. “Why are you standing in front of Draco’s door like you’re hiding a dead body behind it?” You immediately feel caught, but you frown at the mentions of a dead body. “There’s no dead body.” You say, determined to prove to him you have no secrets, taking a few steps towards him in an attempt to keep him away from the door just in case he could hear Aria. “And how would you know?” Theo raises an eyebrow as his eyes meet yours. Gods, Theodore was the most smug and self confident guy you had ever met. 
“I checked.” You state and Theodore’s tongue wets his bottom lip while he raises his eyebrows. “And why exactly were you checking Draco’s room?” Your eyes widen a little as you fall short on excuses. “I-I-I’m I’m-I had a project… with Malfoy. I have a project with Malfoy and I came to check if he had done his work.” Despite your stammering you convince yourself you did well with your answer, but Theodore was far from buying it. 
“You’re a shit liar.” Theo snaps and shoves you aside, heading for Draco’s room. “Now let’s see what that blond’s up to!” Your brain goes blank as you panic when he walks past you, but Aria was your best friend so in an instant your instincts take over. You grab Theo’s arm and pull him towards you. Not expecting you to so violently jerk his arm Theodore turns towards you, but you give him no time to question your actions… or for you to question your own for that matter. Your hand reaches for the back of his head and you pull him in for a kiss. Theo lets you and even moves closer to you, his hands tracing from your hips to the small of your back. When you finally pull away your actions dawn on you and you’re met with a very amused and smirking Theodore. “What was that?” He demands in a soft whisper. Your mouth opens but your brain hasn’t come up with an excuse for your behavior yet, making Theo chuckle softly at your lost expression. “If you can’t come up with any good excuses your only option is to kiss me again.” His voice is suggestive, but you’re still too worried about your friend to realize he’s flirting. “I could always go check that room.” Theo suggests when he gets impatient with you and within a heartbeat you’re kissing him again.
This time Theodore meets you with even more passion and you can’t deny that he’s doing everything right. “Remind me to thank Draco later for whatever he’s got you keeping secret.” Theodore breathes in between kisses as his mouth sloppily works down your neck.
“Thank me for what exactly?” Draco’s voice has you spin away from each other to meet his smirk. Theodore doesn’t look very fazed by being caught, rather annoyed that the little make out got interrupted. When Theo looks over at you he immediately falls in love with your flustered look. You were very embarrassed, but at least you were a good friend to Aria.
Mattheo
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“Ey Malfoy!” You’re startled when you recognise Mattheo’s loud and demanding voice. “Get your incredibly white ass to the great hall, you’re la-” Mattheo stops and his eyebrows knit together when he spots your sheepish figure standing in front of the door of Draco’s room. “What are you up to?” He demands, suspicious as he was about everyone but his close circle of friends. You cross your arms. “Nothing.” Your answer only makes Mattheo more curious and assures him that he’ll get whatever secrets you’re keeping out of you easily since you obviously possessed no skills of lying. 
“I recognise trouble when I see it.” Mattheo calmly walks over to you, his eyes falling down your figure, taking in every detail like he was going to find out all your secrets by watching you intently. You huff and try to wave away the fact Mattheo is successfully intimidating you. “You, Riddle, are trouble, I, on the other hand, am the innocence itself.” You state, tilting your head as you make your argument. Mattheo snorts and walks around you, making you turn and narrow your eyes at him. You were not some prey he could circle like this. “You weren’t just standing here, doing nothing. So explain yourself.” You lose all focus when he says those words as you see the doorknob of Draco’s door turn behind Mattheo. 
Smiling and unaware of Mattheo, Aria appears at the opening of the door and the panic that rushes over your face informs Mattheo that something’s going on. “Wha-” He turns, but you grab his face, squishing his cheeks in your hands. “What are you doing?” He demands with his face still smushed together. Aria is still in view and you realize that she’s going to hide somewhere to get out of the slytherin common room. Your attention is brought back to Mattheo when his hands pull on yours, but you can’t let him turn around so here goes nothing. 
You hoped that Mattheo’s eyes would close, but they go wide as your lips slam against his. Knowing that Aria is going to need a few seconds to get out of this room you decide to go in for a deep kiss, all or nothing. It only takes Mattheo a moment to realize what your effort is all about and he wouldn’t be a true slytherin if he didn’t take an opportunity like this to make out with a pretty girl. No secret you were keeping was worth missing out on a little make out session with you, according to Mattheo’s book. His hands immediately slip under your skirt to rest on your thighs and you want to complain about this rather blunt move of his, but when he finally kisses you back you let him because no guy had ever kissed you like this. There was an immense fire of desire in the way he kissed that ignited a deep longing for more within you. 
When he knows he’s doing it right he squeezes your ass urging you to move against him and allowing him to pick you up and push you against a nearby wall. Aria who has by now made it to the other side of the room is shocked by what she’s seeing. Her best friend who’s always so innocent full on making out with Mattheo Riddle of all guys and this before the day had even started properly. For a split second Aria considers coming to your rescue but as a soft moan leaves Mattheo when your fingers entangle with his hair and you throw back your head allowing him to nip at your sweet spot, your friend decides it best not to interrupt this and rather tease you about it later.
Picture source: https://pin.it/1WOSNnX6U
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mysteryshoptls · 3 days
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R Ace Trappola - Tsumsitter Voice Lines
Due to event restrictions, Groovy related lines are locked until the event has been cleared. I will update once these are unlocked. Login line has been captured. Tsumsitter Ace does not have a vignette.
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Summon Line: What's with all that smirking? Oh, you think it's funny this tsum looks like me, huh... Ever think that maaaaybe it might not just be someone else's problem to laugh about for long?
Groooovy!!: --LOCKED--
Home: Yeah, yeah, keep a lid on it, tsum.
Home Idle 1: Hey, tsum, stop tryin' to climb my basketball. I can't practice my shooting at all.
Home Idle 2: The tsum came to Ramshackle again? Ooh, hey, your dorm's pretty empty, right? Soooo, can'tcha just let it stay there?
Home Idle 3: Tsum, you better not even think about gettin' cheeky with Vil-senpai. He'll wring you and hang you out to dry... And I'll probably get dragged into it somehow, too!
Home Idle - Login: Hey, don'tcha think this tsum's a bit too sassy? I take my eyes off it for one second, and it's just off doin' whatever. Sometimes it just doesn't even listen to a word I say... I don't wanna keep lookin' after this thing.
Home Tap 1: The tsum's actually pretty handy when it comes to putting dishes away. I guess when it comes to things like that, we're pretty similar.
Home Tap 2: Looks like Trey-senpai and his tsum're getting along real swell... Ughhh, maaaan. I wish I had a low maintenance tsum too!
Home Tap 3: Maybe it's just me, but I feel like Jamil-senpai's tsum is really keepin' an eye on everything that's going on around it. Really feels like I'm being watched.
Home Tap 4: Was the Headmage actually looking into how to deal with these tsums? I bet he was just thinkin' he'd hoist them onto us whenever they'd show up.
Home Tap 5: Sure, you can look after the tsum, but you better not ever let go of it. This little guy's real cunning, so it's a huuuge pain to try'n catch it.
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Requested by @thelonepearl.
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