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#someone please write what happens next
lordsilverstein · 1 year
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Arcade: So, one of Caesar's most notorious Legion spies is walking around the strip... Vulpes: I haven’t the slightest idea to what you could mean... Arcade: Right, well in that case allow me to extend an olive branch. Or a drink, rather. After all, what patron of the strip would turn down a free drink? Vulpes: Am I to look forward to your displeasure when I accept such a bluff? Arcade: Oh, on the contrary, Mr. Fox. I expect it to be most insightful. Shall we? Vulpes: By all means... Lead the way.
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halfdeadsage · 9 days
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riley just sent me this and it's literally me about their characters LITERALLY WHAT THE FUCK . like yes i'm sobbing over a character that exists in the void that is the conversations i have with riley about their writing . i am in PAIN and i can't even read anything more about this character to UNDO THE PAIN because THEY'RE FULLY CONTROLLED BY MY BEST FRIEND . 😭 @rrylies ur evil . ihy . (jk ily . but ur still evil .)
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knightfeared · 6 months
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whump-adjacent · 2 years
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So, to continue the ✨thought✨ above...
Not preg Anakin being a double-agent and pretending to join the dark side w. the chancellor, whilst all the while manipulating him into revealing his plans and feeding them back to the Jedi 🙃
With his massively force heightened senses, he finally works out that there’s like a bloody bomb or something that’s been implanted in all the clones, but he’s not 100% sure of the details. It would be FAR TOO suss to start meddling with any of the clones on Coruscant (Palpatine’s eyes are everywhere), so he demands to be taken to the 501st as he needs to know more & he trusts them to keep it on the DL while he explains & reads them with the force etc.
Only prob is, he’s like 100% pregnant at this point, and alpha papa Obi-Wan (who is stationed at Coruscant to be with Anakin and help expose the chancellor) is not feeling great about his mate going to a war zone (the 501st is currently mid-mission) whilst in a very vulnerable state. Anakin insists he is the least vulnerable he’s ever been since he could basically realign stars with the force at this point, but this means nothing to Obi-Wan’s protective alpha hormones.
Anakin can clearly feel how stressed it makes Obi-Wan. So what does he do? Well, he does what any good omega mate would do I guess... 🤫 After which he takes advantage of Obi-Wan’s “compliancy” to get his blessing. He wonders that Obi-Wan still finds him so attractive even now when feels like a Hutt. But there’s no denying he does (literally, Anakin can feel it). In fact, there are times it feels very much like Obi-Wan finds him more attractive right now, but he doesn’t think about that for too long 🤷🏼‍♂️
*Le sidebar*, sex for Anakin whilst being so force strong is: an intense experience~ He’s able to feel Obi-Wan’s alpha pleasure and live inside it, whilst simultaneously experiencing his own bliss and everything that comes along with being a mated preg omega. He can feel exactly what Obi-Wan likes and communicate what he needs back to him without speaking. Preg force sex is the shit basically 🔥
SO: Anakin, Obi-Wan, some fellow Jedi knights (acting as protection) and R2-D2 (acting as moral support) secretly head off to the planet where the 501st is stationed w. Plo Koon and Ahsoka.
Ahsoka has seen Anakin via holocomm once or twice since being deployed but not in person for quite a while, and she cannot contain her excitement when the ship lands & Anakin disembarks looking lightyears more healthy and rested than she remembers. Yes he looks a little flushed and uncomfortable (being almost ready to pop) but the dark circles under his eyes have gone, and he has lost the permanently haunted look he always used to have. Yay happy Master!! Yay imminent siblings!! (or: Ahsoka thinking this is the best idea the council’s ever had~)
They bring Rex, Echo & Fives to the ship so Anakin can force read them. They’re super sweet and awkward around Anakin, not knowing how to act towards their general with him being so vulnerable (they think). Anakin has to tease them pretty ruthlessly for it to make them relax a bit. 
And of course as soon as Anakin uses the force on them at such close range he can immediately sense there’s something foreign in their brains 👎🏼 They bring in more of the 501st - and it’s the same deal. 
They scan Rex in the med bay & locate a small mass in his brain. It’s so small a medical droid is able to remove it with minimal invasion. Holding it, Anakin is able to feel its link with the dark side - with Sith activity.  
Unfortunately, at this point Anakin starts to feel something else too, contractions 🫣 He’d been having some small pains before they left, but this was definitely a step up - and not at all pleasant.
He manages to stifle his reaction, however the surrounding posse of Jedi feel a huge spike in the force - thanks to Anakin & the twins (Ahsoka: “what in Sith’s name was that?!”)
Obi-Wan connects the spike to Anakin and their bebbies and immediately starts fussing over him. The clones are. Shook. 
“It’s fine! I’m fine, everything’s fine” Anakin insists. Everyone breaths a sigh of relief. “It was a contraction, but more importantly - ”
Obi-wan: “WHAT?!?!?!” 
Anakin: “But more importantly, Palpatine felt that too. He’s going to start looking for us.”
TBC...!?
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maruxee · 1 year
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so.
I know we're all clamoring to see Knives get his ass kicked (by Vash) in the next ep - including myself. And we know it's not gonna end well for anybody. And I'd be nice if Knives actually realized the extent of the damage he caused his brother, y'know?. But good lord, what would that even take, to have him reach that point?
So with that in mind, I've started to imagine scenarios - not looking to be canon, but just in a "wouldn't it be fucked up if" "what if" sort of way.
like
What if -
(warning: major character death)
The portal flickers and threatens to collapse as soon as he gets in.
Nai notices just in time to get out before it closes. He is livid. Goes to Vash's blackened form, demanding to know what he's doing. Grabs him by the shirt and inky dust floats off, staining his hands. He shakes Vash, demands an explanation, and a crack spiderwebs across Vash's neck. By the time Nai notices through his haze of fury, pieces are crumbling in his fist, and he is shocked into silence before he screams. His brother's name in one long agonized wail that makes the glass panel rattle.
Rot.
It sticks to Nai's skin as he helplessly watches his brother dissolve. He can't hear himself, what he's saying, all he knows is that it hurts like losing a limb, begging like there's anything left to listen. He can't sense anything anymore, the body is empty, there's nothing there but void. He knocked down the pillars of Vash's mind to the point it collapsed onto itself, left it with nothing to fill up the black hole of self-loathing. And now it grows.
Anything he touches crumples even more. Vash is now an ink block melting in the water, staining it like an oil slick, spreading like a stormcould. The roots, attached to their sisters, spilling out the tank and into the city, they shrivel so violently they squeeze anything caught in their grasp. Flecks of rot fall off them to poison anything they touch. The ground and the walls rumble like an omen, an echo of a fall from long ago. The entire city of July in a chokehold, caught in Vash's death grip.
Yet all Nai can do is keep screaming at the pocket of void where his brother had been, blades creaking as the rot makes them rust. Through the static in his head, he hears noise from behind the glass, pounding fists and loud aggression.
He turns and sees a small young woman. Dark hair, dressed in white.
Another one.
Like that woman that his brother attacked him for.
Like Rem.
Through the plant-blue fluid and flurries of black dust in the tank, her eyes are bright with tears and fury. Through the ringing in his head, he can't hear her words, but he knows. His only thoughts are Vash's words.
"It's my fault?"
He screams and stabs himself to pieces.
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lunarharp · 2 years
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a random draft where i was ramblingg about witch hat & art to myself for myself :)
rare time i feel like actually going off about the thing i’m having fun with right now in more detail ... but not on twt where strangers might try to discuss back at me lol sorry but that is scary. (not that you even have the room to soliloquy on there)
i love how there's characters for varying types of artists to relate to. people like agott who have been adept at drawing from a young age but feel overwhelmed by feelings of not meeting their expectations. and are driven mostly by feelings of wanting to prove their worth..
people like oru who have always been around the art but now are burnt out from commissions and wondering just what they're drawing for... and ones i relate to the most personally like coco and qifrey, who started drawing at an older age to the skilled people around them. like coco i'm so happy that i'm in the world of drawing(/magic) now and excited every day but also weighed down by fears that i'll never get to what i where i need to be after starting at this late stage and also whether i'm really cut out for this....
and like qifrey i only started drawing after a narrow escape from trauma... i started drawing to make sense of what my life is now, just as he was invited by beldaruit to become a witch because it was the only safe path he could take. (although i've not been through anything quite like what he's been through... ouagh)
and there’s tetia who just wants to draw to make other people feel happy about what she’s made, to have fun, and spread hope and happiness and gratitude. who feels so happy whenever someone thanks her for what she’s created - i understand now how it feels to want to thank them for thanking her and how making art, when you get a meaningful response, can be a truly warm communal type experience. but you do need that response - her overwhelming happiness when the dragon thing was happy and she said it was the first time she’d ever felt fully appreciated for her magic and it made her soooo happy. she had been drawing until then, but it was the last puzzle in place to make her realise the breadth of what magic can be for her.
and riche who is determined to not lose the “her”-ness from her art, doesn’t want to learn new techniques and become more regular and orthodox in style if it means she feels she’s losing something... i get that!!! precious autistic-coded child... the ways we feel about our art differ depending on our own mental landscapes. hahhhh... shirahama said she began this series because she was having a conversation with artist friends about how it feels like drawing just really is magic. i mean..... it is.
i think writing feels like magic too, and i’m glad i can do both now. any creation is total magic. i’ve drawn scenes that were in my head and that’s let other people see them and if i can trust their comments about it, has moved them in some way or at least let them imagine a scene or a situation that they wouldn’t have imagined otherwise. but it’s different from just telling someone about it. when you draw something, or write something it really exists now - outside of you. THAT’S SO WEIRD.
i liked drawing a lot of takarazuka things (before i realised i got kind of burnt out drawing all this transcore stuff that people were not exactly responding to because it’s so niche and weird lmao) but drawing fanart for something that also ONLY exists in art is so special. it’s not acted by real people. like.. they’re just little people that someone drew and now i draw them too. total magic. and she gets up and draws them every day the same as me...
i love that a manga isn’t just art, it’s storytelling too. doing both writing and drawing at the same time - it feels like such a perfect and fascinating combination of skills and facets of creation. i’m better at writing than drawing, so i don’t feel like i can express my original stories well enough in comic form just yet. but i might just get there.
the world is so confusing and overwhelming and terrible every day. only creation is something i can understand. sometimes i can’t understand it - when i feel REALLY bad, it’s definitely like, what’s the point. and i wish i had more things to experience at present than just creation - i want to be outside and just feel and be as well as create. and at some point i’ll definitely stop posting my creations online. but creating has become something that i don’t need to understand the reason for it - so at those times when i wonder what the real point to any of this is.... lately, i usually still create anyway. just as you’d still breathe and sleep even though you’re hurt and confused by the horrors of the world. it’s becoming how i express myself. i find myself drawing pretty much every day because it’s part of how i make sense of shit now and i naturally want to do it. not doing it is painful.
i hope this magic continues. i hope it becomes far more wonderful than i can even imagine from here.
and i won't lose.
#things really are different if you start drawing in your mid/late 20s or onwards.#you haven't developed your idea of yourself as an 'artist' at the time your brain was developing your identity.#but reading something that is basically saying- it's not too late and you have your own magic that only youan do... is so heartening.#also the manga is very gay. it's not THAT shockingly original and fascinating a story- but like...#i just don't know many ongoing fun series with interesting lovable characters where there are also major representations#for disability race queerness etc.#esp if tetia is trans. shirahama-sensei you can tell me...#MOSTLY IM LOSING MY MIND AT WHERE THE SERIES IS GOING LIKE I AM SCARED. my theories are dark and i fear for qifrey SOMEONE HELP HIMMM..#ONCE AGAIN LET SOMEONE HLEP YOU YOU QUESTIONABLE AND TRAGIC GAY LITTLE SKIRT MAN#i hate that i had to just let my fic be so short. I CANT WRITE ANY MORE RIGHT NOW...i would have to make up so much plot stuff#bc orufrey CANNT happen they cant freaking KISS until so much is sorted out between them which requires the plot moving forward and..#AUGHHH !!!! sensei please just tell me what happens please please please please please please please please please#the next chapter looks hella plot-ful but STILL..it's going to take YEARS..i just want to know if qifrey IS GOING TO SURVIVE THIS SHIT !!!!#if the brimhats [redacted] then he'll [redacted] and THEN WHAT IF [redacted] has to [redacted] I FEEL LIKE SENSEI'LL DO THAT !!! SCARED#SURELLLY she'll have [redacted] have to [redacted] but i dont think shed go as far as [redacted] ??????#i plan to go to japan next year if possible anyway but what if it's too early for an anime-fuelled merch section in animate. please#this is like the first new and non-zuka thing i've been hyperfixated on for years. i need official qifrey and oru items. I need the items#once again i feel weird putting my personal feelings and theories on the internet to an audience of nobody but once again we will die.#am i going to be on my deathbed thinking 'oh i shouldn't have happily gone off about witch hat on tumblr that time how embarrassing' no.#do you know how worthwhile it is to enjoy something. and to basically avoid other fanworks for the most part so you're just surrounded#by your own pure and enjoyable feelings.#i actually went to a local queer art place yesterday and like. man i was very different to them but#there are people somewhat like me out there huh. somewhere. i'm going to make zines and art and express my world. even if just a bit.#literally why would you priv reblog something like this i think there is something wrong with you? i feel better about myself now#i will find the ones like me not the ones like you <3
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omgeto · 9 months
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☆ WHEN YOU HAVE SEX WITH YOUR EX — GOJO, GETO, TOJI
summary: you have sex with your ex. thats it.
cw: afab!reader, smutty smut smut so mdni. unprotected sex with all of them (since I forget that condoms exist) you sit on geto face, kinda finger fucking & mild hate fucking with toji but its fun, and gojo is just lovely.
an: i was meant to post this last night but I fell asleep writing geto's part so slay. anyways I hope you enjoy lmk what you think!! not proofread so ignore any mistakes please.
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☆ GOJO
“this doesn’t mean we’re back together y’know,” you remind gojo, panting as he thrusts into you.
“you’re really saying that with my dick deep in your cunt,” he taunts, admiring the deep arch of your back, the way your ass ripples every time his hips drive into you. “i’ve missed this.”
“f-fuck keep going,” you moan out, as his dick hits your spot – just how you like it.
“so you don’t miss me?” he pesters, and you roll your eyes, as although you couldn’t see him, you just knew he had a pout on his face. “you really don’t miss me?” he continues his thumb making way to your clit, swiftly flicking at it.
“i don’t miss you.”
gojo pulls out of you almost defiantly, pushing you down – turning you around your back. he stares at you with something you couldn’t quite place, and re enters you just as quickly. he smirks at the way your mouth gapes as his hands roughly grab at your tits, pinching and pulling on your nipples.
“s-someone’s mad,” you egg on, loving the way that his strokes become harder.
“y’know the reason i always loved fucking you this way when we were together?” he asks with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“what’s with the trip down memory lane?,” you complain, your arms come around his neck as you take him in deeper, “i called you to fuck me, not for whatever you’re tryna do here.”
“because i always got to see all the faces you make,” he continues, completely ignoring your comment, his tongue drags up the side of your jaw, before pressing a quick kiss just under your ear. “and the face your making right now, tells me, that you're lying.”
you scoff, but didn’t say anything because you knew he was right. you did miss the way he’d plough into you, the way he knew the ins and outs of your body – how to please you. “im gonna cum,” you whine out, “satoru please i need yo–”
“you can cum when you admit the truth babe,” he teases, his strokes purposefully shift speed, still keeping you writhing underneath him but just not quite enough to get you there. “just say you miss me.”
“fine,” you force out, exasperated, “i m-miss you i do.”
“see wasn’t so hard, was it?” he kisses you deeply, driving deep into you, and you cum with a cry, you did miss being this close with your ex boyfriend. gojo is quick to finish after you, filling you up with all his cum.
he eventually pulls out of you, collapsing down on the bed next to you pulling you into his hold. you, against your better judgement, relaxing into his arms – which goes against all the rules of sleeping with your ex. “this still doesn’t mean we’re back together,” you add, knowing there was very little truth to that.
“yeah, yeah, whatever you say babe,” he smirks, his lips coming down to your forehead, placing a soft kiss, “so what did you miss about me?”
☆ TOJI
“i thought you didn’t spin the block, princess,” toji asks with a shit-eating grin, as his fingers slip inside of you “what happened to, ‘once an ex always an ex huh?” 
“i’ve always hated that nickname,” you mumble, hissing at the contact of toji’s fingers toying with your pussy, “and there are some exceptions to my rule.”
“so you’re little boyfriends not hitting it right then,” toji grins, pleased at hearing that he was the ‘exception,’ “if you’re here, slutting yourself out on my fingers.” 
“no he’s hitting it greatly,” you smirk, not rising to toji’s comments since you know what he was trying to get at, “i just missed you, that's all.”
“oh so you really have a boyfriend then?” he snapped, his fingers curling up in you.
“no i don't,” a smug smile appears on your face as you see toji’s smirk drop, “but it’s cute that you care though. are you jealous, toji?”
“shut up,” he says moodily, swiftly removing his fingers out of you, pulling you onto his lap.
you straddle him, your face inches from his, “aww are you mad toji?” you taunt with a mock pout. you’ve always loved getting a rise out of toji, you know your ex boyfriend very well, the more pissed off he was, the harder he fucked.
“sit on it,” he commands, the ‘it’ in question being his hard dick that he was furiously stroking at the sight of you. there was something about you that got on toji’s nerves – hence why you didn’t last long as a couple – but that special something was good for times like this. where you could both unleash any pent up energy you have, on eachother.
you welcome his dick eagerly, practically jumping on it, the wetness of your pussy was inviting. his dick slotted in perfectly, making you both curse at the contact. “fuck, you always feel so good,” he praises, loving the feeling of you clenching around his dick whilst you ride him.
there was a forcefulness coming from the both of you, as you were fucking each other as if you had something to prove, as if there was some unspoken competition to see who could get the other to cum first.
“f-fuck,” you mutter, the feeling of toji’s dick pistoning into you becoming too much.
“whats that princess?” toji mocks, grinning seeing your eyes gloss over, he could tell that your dick-stuffed cunt was about to release all over him, “y’gonna cum for me?”
you ignore him, continuing your mission to get toji to fold first. you manoeuvre your lips to his neck, kissing and sucking on his exposed flesh, and he takes a sharp inhale – bingo. you knew toji’s body as well as he knew yours, and he was always was weak for the way you’d nibble and bite on his neck as he fucked you dumb.
“are you gonna cum for me?” you mock mirroring his question, his strokes was getting sloppier, you could tell he was close. but you were not far behind, squirming in his lap about to reach your climax.there were no words that needed to be spoken as you and toji both cum together, your cunt too overloaded with both of your cum, making it drip out all over his dick.
“we should do this again sometime princess,” toji suggests, as you eventually hop off his dick and start putting back on your clothes, “you always know to fuck me right.”
“i’ll think about it,” you conclude, knowing that you’ll probably be back in less than a week, “and stop calling me that fucking nick name,” you say as you leave the room, the only response you hear being toji’s howling laughter.
☆ GETO
if there was one thing that you couldn’t deny your ex boyfriend had, it was his head skills. everytime without fail, he could have you sprawled out on any surface as his tongue laps your pussy. 
“s-shit, you’ve always been way too good at this,” 
“only, to please you,” he hums, pressing a soft kiss to your thigh, before going back to sucking on your clit. your hands knot his hair, pulling and tugging as he works on your folds. he loves it when you play in his hair, showing that he’s getting what he’s aiming for – giving you pleasure. 
your moans only encourage him to toy with your pussy harder, nipping and biting as your thighs clench around his head. he’s been at this for ages, tonguing your cunt for as long as possible, as if to see how long he’d be able to go. 
“sugu ‘m gonna cum,” you cry, pressure building up inside of you, “please let me cum.”
but he doesn't. ignoring your request completely, geto removes his mouth off of you. his lips were practically shining, coated in all the juices from your pussy.  “you know there was one thing we never got to do when we were together,” he starts to say, eyeing with a mischievous smile,
“which is…” you prompt, slightly upset at the lack of stimulation you were getting at your, now throbbing, pussy.
“you never sat on my face,” he utters just above a whisper, licking his lips at the thought of it. 
“but what if I—“
“don’t worry about any of that,” he murmurs, pushing himself further back on the bed, his eyes still focused on you, “come sit.”
you slowly work your way up his body, the mischief in his eyes making you feel excited. you pause, straddling his chest, your hands rest on his shoulders, “are you sure about this?”
“girl if you don’t–” he starts to say, but the rest of his sentence is muffled as he pulls you onto his face, his mouth enveloping your pussy. your hands immediately grip onto the headboard in front of you, as his tongue gives long strokes to your wet pussy, lapping up all the juices spilling from you. 
you were riding his face, your hips moving back and forth against his mouth with his head sandwiched between your thighs. “f-fuck sugu, it’s too much,” you moan out, throwing your head back. 
he grins in response, his hands gripping your ass pushing you onto his mouth deeper. he couldn’t get enough of you, the way you taste, the sweet scent of your pussy that he practically inhales, burying his nose in it.
“s-shit,” you curse, as your cunt explodes onto your ex’s face. you pause, catching your breath, still feeling the pleasurable high he just gave you. he still had his mouth on your pussy, eating up all the cum that was dripping out of you.
“hey suguru, wanna go and–” you turn to see gojo burst into the room, “oh shit, yn? are you two back together?” you scramble off of geto’s face, giving gojo the hardest glare for interrupting. 
“satoru, can’t you see that im busy,” geto chuckles, his mouth still covered with your cum, “im eating here.”
“right…” gojo nods, “i’ll leave you two too it,” but just before he leaves the room you here him yell, “im gonna tell everyone you’re back together.” you both chuckle at your friends antics, and geto pulls you back into him.
“get back on,” he smirks, “who said i was done?”
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AN: so there we go. I love geto's part so much but maybe im biased idk. but yeahhh hope you enjoy the thoughts that I had at like 7 am. DIVIDERS BY @/CAFEKITSUNE
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eoinmcgonigal · 10 months
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caught in that horrible place of wanting to write and post stuff, but being so disheartened and upset because what's the point if no one comments? i take the time to put the stories and ideas in my head into words so that i can share them and talk about them with other people! i'm oldschool about this and make no apologies for being so. fandom was built on comments and interacting with each other - on communicating and creating a sense of community. i cannot keep creating in such utter isolation. i'm not a machine. i'm lonely. i want to connect with people over things with both love and enjoy!
to be clear, this isn't a 'you must always comment if you read something' because that's utterly deranged and unrealistic. i'm just begging anyone who sees this to, if they can (if! because i struggle to comment too!), take a few moments to let an author know 'hey i was here and this made me feel things!'. even a little something back is so, so much better than putting some of my hard work out there and hearing nothing in return. i do not feel inspired to keep writing right now. it makes me so sad having all these things i want to talk about and write and share, but no one seems to be interested in engaging, so the thing that brings me joy remains a quiet, unspoken thing withering inside me
fandom has changed a lot over the last few years, and i wish i could say it was for the better, but it's not. this whole click and move on social media attitude is really soul-destroying. likes/kudos/reactions aren't the same as words (or emoji or gifs or whatever your preferred method of yelling in the comments is). a single click serves a purpose but can never replace the value of human interaction
the thing is, i don't post fic and immediately rush on to the next thing, never to look back. i like looking back! i like pausing in my day to reminisce on that fic i wrote, and i smile the whole way through my entire being when someone leaves a nice comment and i get a chance to say 'thank you, i love this story too' and think about the fic again. i'm cultivating a little garden of stories with all the love and care i have to give each of them, and i want them to grow, not be trodden underfoot as people rush to consume the next thing
#document type: medical report#look just please... human interaction... i'm desperate#i want to talk to people!#i met my best friend and now sibling almost 10 years ago because she was a repeat commenter on a good many of my fics#i know i've barely started writing again but i just cannot keep going if everyone is so damn afraid to comment#i also invite you to consider what talking about fics in servers and (if anyone still uses it) on twitter means#because for a start does the author ever see those conversations?#and secondly are they in any way preserved or do they end up buried by the next topic of conversation/feed refresh?#look look we gotta fuckin anchor this shit down#stop lobbing stones into the ocean and instead we can build little cairns that aren't lost to the tides#i joined a server a few years ago and people went NUTS when they found out my ao3 because they loved my fic#and i had LITERALLY NO IDEA because i would only get one or maybe two comments on a fic#so to discover that whole conversations were happening about my work... it was surreal and just... no one thought to actually talk to *me*?#to the person who wrote the stuff??#how are we supposed to know anybody is out there and wants to see more of our writing?#also as someone with adhd and self-confidence issues the fact ao3 comments STAY THERE and i even get an email!! is perfection#the comment doesn't disappear and i know where i can find it#and when i go to look at a fic (yes i read my own fic now and then) i see the comment count (even 1) and feel happy that someone enjoyed it#that i'm not alone#also just in case a certain friend who i know liked the last fic reads this and the tags: i don't want you to be burdened by any sense of#obligation to comment on any of my stuff#that is the absolute last thing i want - i just wish commenting was still more of a norm#also please absolutely no one ever read my stuff with the sole intention of commenting#read for the story. keysmash if you have the spoons to and want let me know you liked the words i left lying around for people to discover#ugh okay i'll stop now but wow not to be old but i hate right-this-moment-only social media click-and-move-on disposable bullshit#make your mark darlings#leave a trace#we're only here once#(itf fic will probably be updated at some point - i save comments as encouragement so only reply on wips when i post the next chapter)
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screeching-bunny · 4 months
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Yandere! Game Show Host Hcs
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Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’
A/N: I saw this request and was like this is such a cool request but what if we made him an evil game show host. Like one that would put contestants in deadly scenarios.
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🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host who kidnaps all of the contestants and forces them to play this twisted game that he created for money. Don’t worry though, he rigged the entire game to be in your favor. It was discreet enough for the viewers not to really care but apparent enough for you to notice the favoritism. Did you care? Hell no!! As long as you were getting paid you and survived this whole ordeal could give a rats ass about what happened next. Even when you do manage to get certain questions wrong, he will just brush it off and pretend that it was just a warm up question. The contestants are definitely seething whenever they see this happening.
🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host is a psychopath by nature. In each round, he presents the contestants with morally ambiguous dilemmas, enticing them with promises of grand rewards while dangling the threat of dire consequences for failure. Whether it's forcing them to choose between betraying a fellow contestant or facing a treacherous obstacle, he revels in their anguish, relishing the psychological torment he inflicts.
🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host is doing everything in his power to make sure that you win the game. He can’t have his poor baby feeling upset if they fail to win the grand prize. He would absolutely give out the most insane questions that practically no one knows the answer to. The punishment for getting a few questions wrong is mutilation of certain body parts and if you get too many questions wrong then you’ll end up being sent to your death. While everyone is basically being tortured in their punishments, he’d never allow that to happen to you. At most he’d probably just flick your forehead and call it a day. I imagine that most of the people watching the show are people who paid for the contestants to be kidnapped and be brought there against their wishes. Everyone who is put onto his show is a horrible person, including yourself, and have done something to be warranted to be there.
🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host bends all the rules of the game for you, providing subtle hints or covert assistance to ensure your safety. Although he has a strong desire to see others in pain and suffering, his love for you is stronger. At first justifies these actions as preserving the "entertainment value" of the show, but deep down, he's driven by an inexplicable desire to protect you.
🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host would baby you during your time there. He’d make a fuss whenever you tried to do anything remotely dangerous or touch some blood. I could totally see him using a baby voice to try to convince you to stop what you're doing. He has no shame, and everyone is looking at him with utter disbelief/confusion on their faces.
Yandere! Game Show Host: “Oh No! Please don’t go over there! You might slip from all the blood on the ground! Come here let me carry you across.”
Viewers: “…”
The contestant with their leg cut off: “…”
🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host thrives on the power he wields over his contestants, reveling in their suffering as they navigate his challenges. As the game progresses, his demeanor grows more twisted, enjoying the contestants' internal conflicts and emotional turmoil. He taunts them with mocking laughter, reveling in their discomfort and manipulating their decisions to heighten the drama. God forbid that you manage to develop a crush on someone while you are there. He’d absolutely lose it and do everything in his power to crush them. You best believe that he’s going to keep them alive for as long as possible and give them the worst punishments known to man.
🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host has cameras everywhere and when it's time for the contestants to rest for the night he’s going to be observing you. He’s a loser who doesn’t really know how to act around you without becoming a mess. In his spare time, he likes to just watch you through the cameras and imagine himself right next to you. He’s absolutely delulu about your feelings towards him and believes that you feel the same way. Even when you do manage to win this fucked up game, he’s not letting you go. There’s no way that he’s letting you leave after you managed to steal his heart. After this is all over, he’s taking you to his house and locking you there.
🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host holds pride in knowing how many people are at the mercy of his hand. Has a minor God complex and has this skewed mindset about how everyone else is beneath him besides you. Believes that you were made just for him and that you're his one true love. Would rather die than give you up or allow anyone to “take you away from him”. He’s like an annoying roach and almost impossible to get rid of. He’s making sure to stay with you for as long as possible.
Yandere! Game Show Host strides onto the stage with a wicked gaze, his piercing gaze fixed on the contestants. His voice, a chilling blend of charm and malice, booms through the speakers as he welcomes the participants with a mocking flourish. Thom who were strapped onto a table with heavy objects over their heads.
Yandere! Game Show Host: “Alright contestant number one, what is the mass of the Sun divided by Planck's constant in nanometers.
Contestant One: “HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT!?!?!”
Yandere! Game Show Host: “Unfortunately, that's not the correct answer. You’ll now be facing the consequences.” In a matter of seconds, the heavy object comes flying down with alarming speed. Upon impact, it mercilessly crushes against their skull, unleashing an overwhelming and unimaginable force that distorts bone and flesh. Yandere! Game Show Host then makes his way towards you and begins to speak.
Yandere! Game Show Host: “Alright, it's your turn now. No pressure, I know you’ll do great just take your time. Okay what’s 1 + 1?”
You: “2.”
Yandere! Game Show Host: "Talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever done before, unafraid to reference or not reference, put it in a blender, shit on it, vomit on it, eat it, give birth to it."
Other Contestants: “What the hell!?!? How is this fair!?!!
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violetszone · 5 months
Text
Whats your kink?
Charles x fem!reader
From this request
Summary: You've been trying to find Charles' kinks for a long time But you didn't learn this until you started taking birth control pills.
A/n: again, i don't know what i wrote,i'm too tired to read and edit it sorry...
WARNINGS: Google translated French,breeding, Quick finish,not edited writing, fully smut, unprotected sex (God, please use protection my friends.)
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You always thought Charles had some weird kink and you'd find it The reason for taking this as a mission was that it started like this: One New Year's Eve, while you were playing a game with your friends, someone asked Charles this question, and he stared at you for a few seconds and then answered no. Since that day you've been trying to bring this up without letting him know.
Of course, finding this was harder than you expected because you were at the very beginning of your relationship when it happened, and now you had been dating for almost 2 years.You tried everything you thought would excite him, but they couldn't. Until one day you came home from the doctor's check-up and said that you started taking birth control pills.
You could have sworn you saw a twinkle in Charles' eyes at that moment, even if only for a brief moment.Of course, nothing happened for a while until you started using the pill regularly and one night the lust for both of you became unbearable.
Charles had returned from a meeting in Italy and you were waiting for him at home. The moment he got home, he left his backpack at the door and pulled you towards him and pressed you to his lips, kissing you passionately. Before you knew it, you were entering your bedroom, half-naked in Charles' arms.Charles kissed your entire body, licking and biting the sensitive spots he knew would turn you on, you were burning underneath him.
When he put his hand into the bedside drawer, he frowned and got up, cursing. You looked at Charles, out of breath "what's wrong?"Charles rummaged through the drawer for a while and looked at you with disappointment and sat down next to you. "I'm sorry my love, there is no condom, I must have forgotten that, I'm sorry"
You rose up on your arms, looked at him and spoke hesitantly. "I'm on pills you know that-" Charles bit his lower lip, examined your face, then shook his head no "There is no guarantee and it will leave you in doubt, I can't do this" you put your hand on his shoulder and climbed onto his lap, "but I can do it. Please Charles, I miss you so much." While you leave little pecks on Charles' lips and neck he moaned softly and his hands came up to your waist.
You whispered "please" against his lips as he slowly pulled you away from him He laid you back down on the bed and returned to his previous position, stroking your hair. “I have to do whatever my sweet thing wants.” While his words made you smile, Charles' hand slipped into your underwear, causing you to moan. "Look at this, is this all for me Y/N hm tell me. Do I make you this wet every time I touch you?" You moaned and closed your eyes as Charles's two fingers entered you. When one of your hands reflexively tried to hold Charles' arm, Charles pinned your hands to the bed with his free hand.
He fingered you, giving you brutal pleasure as you writhed and moaned underneath him. Just as you were about to reach climax, Charles pulled his hand away, you made a sound between a moan and a whimper and opened your eyes. While he took off his trousers and underwear with one hand, he sucked the fingers of his other hand that gave you pleasure "What a gorgeous girl you are hm. You will cum on my cock, beauty, you heard? I will make you cum on my raw cock. Look how excited you are.Do you want my cock beauty? "
You moaned and moved your hips towards Charles.Charles rubbed his dick with one hand and pressed your hips to the bed with his other hand "behave" You whined when he growled "Fuck, don't you have those tits, you're destroying me, especially when those tight dresses squeeze them, my god i want to fuck them some time" He pinched your nipple with two fingers, making you moan, He came closer and licked and sucked and bit your tits ""Cha-ah!" You made a sound that was a mix of moaning and screaming, and he put one hand over your mouth.
"shhh be quiet beauty, we wouldn't want the neighbors to hear what a loud slut you are, would we?" As your eyes filled with tears of pleasure, you nodded your approval. Charles took his hand from your mouth, connected his lips with yours and kissed you passionately. "Let me love you baby" While kissing your neck, he started to slide his length into your wetness.
"oh fuck Charles...o- oh my god" When Charles was completely inside you, he paused and looked into your eyes, "fuck sweetie, this is heaven." Charles slowly started to move inside you. Feeling each other completely for the first time was very different for both of you, you felt like you were going to die.
As Charles' movements speed up, you felt yourself getting closer to climax and dug your nails into his back. "My fuckkk please omg! Charles I'm gonna-" Charles moaned as he squeezed your breast with his free hand "cum baby, cum on my cock" While your back was arched , you held on to Charles's arm, which held your chest. While your body was shaking, you closed your eyes and moaned.Charles' movements became sharper and harder as you cum.
"Fuck baby, I'm gonna cum, fuck, I'm gonna fill you up hmmhhh. Putain, tu es si sexy, je vais remplir ta taille de mes bébés. Let me fucking breed you" (Fuck, you're so hot, I'll fill your belly with my babies) You just moaned what Charles said, you were out of breath, after a few seconds he started to cum inside you, He came deep down to the last drop.Then hugged you tiredly without putting all his weight on you he gave you a kiss on your cheek, came out and lay down next to you.
You started laughing as you stared at the ceiling, out of breath. Charles frowned and looked at you “what's the matter?” You turned sideways and placed a kiss on Charles' arm. "Breeding kink. Really? I would never have guessed.I've been trying for a year in vain " Charles rubbed his face with his hand and looked into your eyes again. "Have you been doing those weird sex things for a year to find my kink? God baby.." he chuckled, you rotated your hips and placed one of your legs over Charles's. Both of your pleasure juices were still flowing out of you. Charles groaned at the sight and closed his eyes.
"Omg you really have a breedink kink" Charles put his finger to your lips "shut up, god" you giggled your head on his shoulder "and my tits? seriously?" This time Charles took his arm off you and tried to turn around, and you laughed. "Come on Charles I'm just kidding...I actually liked it really" Charles turned and hugged me "hey Charlie, stop looking at my ass please" Charles laughed at your words, inhaled your scent and pulled back from the hug and played with your hair, "I'm sorry, it was just so beautiful." You put a small peck on his lips and smiled "i know baby thank you for that" You leaned your head on his chest again and started to doze off while he caressed your hair and kissed your head.
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writers-potion · 30 days
Note
Could I ask for tips on how to write kisses?
Writing The Perfect Kiss Scene
#1 Find the RIGHT moment
We all know what I mean! The "zing" when the character's faces are get close enough must come unexpected (but) when both of them are looking for romance/comfort.
For example:
Tripping over each other in the hallway
Person A covering their face with their hands and Person B prying them off, their eyes meeting...
Sitting next to each other in the library, elbows touching, and they happen to turn around to face each other...
Find a natural way to bring your characters the romantic atmosphere!
#2 Noticing the Other Person
It's natural to to see someone in a different way when there's romantic vibe pulsating in the air. Maybe your character notices that their crush has a speck of green in their eyes they didn't notice before.
#3 Build Ups
Describe how the characters feel moments before their lips touch. This includes things like racing hearts, sweaty palms, unsteady breathing. etc.
#4 Feeling all Self-Conscious
If you're writing a first-person POV or want to portray the nervous excitement of kissing a love interest for the first time, you can afford to have your character be distracted by how they feel inside, or worrying about how they smell/look, etc.
Maybe they feel like it's too early in the relationship to kiss
They're still thinking about that annoying math problem
Did I apply my new cherry-flavored chapstick? etc.
This should come in the same beat as the "notice the other person", heightening the romance tension between the characters.
Once they get closer and the kiss actually happens, these worries will melt away!
#4 Describing the Details
In most cases, it's best to keep things understated (especially in regards to tongues)
tongues cannot "tangle" or "battle" or "swish around"...please, no.
Focus on the lips and how the characters move (like hugging, pushing the other against a wall, breathing, etc.), adding the tongue as an afterthought.
Don't get too exicted about taste.
No, her tongue didn't taste like fresh roses and peaches, unless she was eating peach candy right before the kiss.
Focus on other sensations other than taste: especially touch, heat. the tickle of his breath on her cheekc, etc. Or even the smell of shampoo.
#5 The Pullaway + Reaction
Does the kiss end naturally, or does something else interrupt them?
How do the characters react: do they blush, say something, hug he other person, or run away with a deep blush? For couples, they can even tease the other.
If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸
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hotpinkstars · 19 days
Text
LOST POSSESSIONS - aventurine, boothill, x reader
- in which you lost your wedding band during a conflict with something/someone.
- novas comeback post guys I'm gonna be more fluent with writing I promise. hope you enjoy this though I was gonna add Sunday but my computer is literally at 1 percent sooooooo....
- a lot of crying, minor swearing, besides that all comfort... wc 912
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When Aventurine walked into your shared home to the sight of you sobbing on the couch, he thought of the worst. Are you hurt? Did something happen while he was at work? He went up to you to seek for answers.
“What happened? What's wrong?” He internally panicked, not wanting to allow you to see his current emotions. He kept calm as you sat up, tear stained face poking a hole through his battered heart.
“You’re gonna be so pissed!” You sob, somehow starting to cry even harder. You dove back into the warm cushions of the couch when you felt the part near your shins dip, and a hand running through your hair and massaging the back of your scalp.
“You can tell me anything. I won’t be upset, I promise,” he gave you a sympathetic look before proceeding. “But if you’re not comfortable with it, I won’t push you.”
You hesitantly show him your bare hands, and he takes them in his. You roll over to face him and look at him with a pained expression, and that's when he seemed to realize. 
“Where's your wedding ring?” He said, his words quick. He looked at you slightly wide-eyed before you began bawling again. He began to swipe the tears out of your eyes, his thumb coming into contact with your lower lashes as he quietly attempts to hush you and calm you down.
“Was it stolen? Did you lose it?” 
You bring a hand up to your face before sniffling. “It got stolen. The diamond was too appealing to some bastard on the streets on Golden Hour, and it was swiped right off of my hand!” 
You curl back into yourself before Aventurine comes down to kiss your face. “I’m not mad at you, babe. I’m beyond pissed off with the person who did that. Nobody seems to have even a drop of human decency these days, do they?” 
You slightly shrugged before hugging him close. He returned the hug, and held you there until you quietly whispered a question into his ear. “What are we going to do about the ring?”
He slightly chuckled before bringing his head on top of yours. “I might as well get you a new one. The old one was rather… out of date, if I must say so myself. I could get you a bigger, brighter diamond.”You attempted to protest, attempting to say everything he knew you wanted to say- even something made out of paper would be good enough for me. But he thought you were worth the shiniest, biggest, rarest stone in the world. Worth much much more than that. And this incident wasn’t much of a setback for him, and really didn’t make his wallet cry very hard at all.
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Boothill doesn’t play when his significant other is not doing very well. He’s immediately at your side, stroking your hair and trying to do or say anything he can to make you feel better. 
But in this instance, it didn’t really work. He realized after a few moments that he just had to be patient, and wait for you to come to him,
“You’re going to be so mad at me if I told you,” you hiccuped, before continuing to talk. “Please don’t yell at me.”
“Why would I ever yell at ya’?” He said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. “Whatever's got your pretty face all stained with tears can’t be that bad. I hate gettin’ mad at ya’, and ya’ know that.”
You nodded, but dug your face deeper into the pillows. Boothill simply put his metal hand on your back, and rubbed up and down. While the sensation felt cold, it seemed to work to help calm you down because you felt more at ease, and he could tell that too. 
“I lost my wedding ring. I don’t know where it went, but one moment it was there and then the next it wasn’t on my hand anymore,” you cut out, trying to hold back more tears. You could see his face change from scared to relaxed.
“Hey, don’t stress it. That’s just a lil’ setback, nothin’ to worry about. We’ll either find it or I’ll buy ya’ a new one,” he says as he picks up your now bare hand, a flash of sadness showing through his eyes. “What’ll make ya’ feel better? Cuddles? If we went out to try n’ find it?”
You shrugged, and he nodded. You buried yourself even deeper into the blankets, giving him the hint that you just wanted to stay inside for now. You felt too bad and your face was rose red from crying, your eyes puffy and your voice raspy. He climbed into the bed with you, wrapping his strong, metallic arm around your covered torso. 
“I’ll do a thorough investigation tomorrow. People don’t usually lie to Galaxy Rangers, but I doubt those adorable cutie pies would know somethin’ like that,” he immediately cringed, realizing how the sentence came out. His stupid synesthesia beacon. 
But he heard you laugh, and the cringe feeling dissipated into a warmth in his metal chest. His whole goal is to keep you happy, healthy, and safe. If he were to fail at one of those things, he’d fail at his own purpose. For now, his only thing is to cheer you up, and make sure you know that he would never be mad at you for a mistake that's not even your fault.
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jamespotterismydaddy · 4 months
Text
Seven Minutes
luke castellan x reader
A/N: i was so excited to write this request as soon as i saw it so i hope you enjoy!
TW: smut, luke being a cocky little shit
word count: 1,172 words
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Playing seven minutes in heaven is not an appealing idea to you. You don’t like the idea of being trapped in a closet with a guy who isn’t of your choosing and it isn’t some stupid kissing game that’s over in a second, but there is sadly no saying no to Silena Beauregard. Your friend is literally the embodiment of an Aphrodite child with her ability to persuade. For gods’ sake she actually has the word ‘beautiful’ in her name and everyone knows that someone with such a likeness to the love goddess isn’t someone that can be refused.
“There’s going to be lots of good looking people there I promise… Charlie, Clarisse… Luke.” Silena murmurs the last name.
“What?” You’re clearly pissed. She can hear it in your tone.
“What do you mean ‘what’?” She asks innocently.
“What was the last name you just said?”
“Oh, nothing. I was just listing people at camp who are objectively attractive.”
“Just objectively attractive or objectively attractive and playing seven minutes in heaven tonight?” You ask, giving her a pointed look.
“The second one.” She replies quietly.
“I’m not going if Luke is going to be there.” You tell her petulantly, stopping in your tracks like you’re going to turn around and head back to your cabin.
“So you did hear me.”
“I’m not going.” You start to walk back but she grabs your wrist.
“Yes you are!”
“I’m not. I hate him. I want him dead. I pray for his downfall on every quest he goes on.”
“All I can hear is that you spend a lot of time thinking about him.”
“Silena!”
“I’m sorry but if you think about it, all this hatred could just be pent up sexual frustration.”
“It’s not.”
“It could be!” She realizes that she isn’t anywhere close to getting through to you so she holds both your hands in hers. “Please just come. The bottle most likely won’t even land on him anyway. Just think about it as a fun night.”
“Fun night my ass.” You grumble but turn around and begin to walk back to the Aphrodite cabin. Silena giggles excitedly.
When you walk in, almost everyone of the older campers in Silena’s friend group are already there. Your eyes fall on Luke first and he gives you an annoying little smirk.
“Okay, now that everyone important is here…” Silena smiles before sitting down. Clarisse hands her an empty beer bottle. “I’ll go first.” She spins the bottle and grins when it lands on Charles. If your eyes aren’t deceiving you, you could swear Clarisse’s face drops for a millisecond.
The person next to Charles goes next, and then Clarisse goes and now, it’s your turn. You’re not really sure how it’s your turn already, but you aren’t about to argue with Silena over the spinning order. You look at Luke before you spin and he gives you another cocky smirk. You try to ignore him and spin the bottle, doing it perhaps a touch too hard because it goes in circles forever. When the bottle slows, it is clearly about to stop on some Apollo kid before it shifts a little more and lands on Luke.
What the fuck?
He looks away from a son of Boreas to you. “Up you get then, princess.” He stands.
You look at Silena with ‘help me’ eyes but she shrugs with a guilty grin. So now you’re walking over to Luke. He holds out a hand so he can lead you to the closet but you slap it away as you pass him. He turns on a dim light as you enter and shuts the door behind him.
“Look at my luck.” He says in a suave tone, holding his hands out like it was the gods’ bidding.
“Did you really bribe a wind god kid so that the bottle would land on you?”
“Perceptive.” He comments. “I was just lucky that I happened to be sitting North of you. So maybe it is the gods’ will.”
“You think it’s the gods will that we fuck in this closet?” You scoff.
“You said it, baby not me.” His right hand falls to your waist, gripping at your love handles. “But sadly, we don’t have enough time for me to fuck you properly.”
“Get your hands off me.” Your gaze is filled with a lot of passion. Whether that passion is lust or hate, he isn’t sure.
“Make me.”
When you don’t make him take his hands off you (which you most could) he takes that as a sign that you want him just as much as he wants you, so he pulls you in for a rough kiss. You hate how you kiss him back, whimpering into his mouth when you feel his hand slip up your thigh to rub you through your jeans. He slips his tongue into your mouth as he begins to make quick work of your zipper. Luke tugs your jeans down and chuckles at the sight of your lacy panties.
“Were you planning on getting screwed tonight or is this just coincidence?” 
“Shut up.” You murmur before forcing your mouth back against his.
He rubs you through your panties for a second but you both know you’re short on time so he slips them to the side, sliding his fingers through your arousal. 
“Gods, you’re so wet.” He whispers into your mouth before plunging two fingers inside of you, curling them in just the right spot. You whine softly, pissed at how good he is at touching you. He leans his head down and begins to kiss your neck. He suckles on the same spot for about a minute so he leaves a deep red mark. “Oops, left a little colour.”
“Luke!” You scold quietly and he begins to rub your clit with his thumb so you can’t think straight enough to say anything else.
“Just have to let people know who’s girl you are, princess.” He starts rubbing your clit a little harder. “Who’s girl are you?”
You’re feeling so good and you’re so close to your peak that you moan out, “Your girl.”
“That’s right. Cum on my fingers, baby.” He demands and you do right away, squeezing around his fingers as you get your release. “You better get dressed.” He says as he checks his watch. “You’ve got about 12 seconds before they open that door.”
He’s clearly amused as you struggle to get your pants back on in time but that doesn’t mean you don’t notice as he licks your cum off his fingers, moaning just a little bit.
“Times up, lovebirds.” One of the other Aphrodite girls says as she swings open the door.
You walk out as soon as she does and you don’t make eye contact with anyone as you storm out of the cabin.  
“We’re done with the game for today.” Luke says cockily as he quickly grabs both your jackets and chases you out the door for round two.
Silena grins. “I knew it.”
taglist (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi @ravenclawprincess33
Luke Castellan: @amortencjja @urmomsbananabread @kissingyourgrl @vikimontethegirlblogger @maryann2013 @stark-head @remussbitch @ever8ea @batmandabest @jennapancake @junos-web @tanifsblog @stupidtween 
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oppopotamus · 1 month
Note
i have a toji brainrot rn.
dom!male!reader (younger than toji but still an adult) wanting to fck toji (dadbod toji yum) and toji doesn't believe that reader will be able to pleasure him.
toji gets wrecked (maybe some overstimulation and squirting as well teehee) and he gets smitten and addicted. 🤭
My next door neighbour is a hot dilf??
toji fushiguro x dom top male reader
srry this took so long I took a HUGEE break from writing
listened to Katy Perry while I wrote this which may or may not have affected my writing
Warning: NSFW, dilf toji, top reader, thigh spanking, toji passes out twice, toji cries, reader gets mean i guess??
Toji, your hot dilf neighbour, the guy who lives in the apartment next to yours, he's only across the hall.
You need this man, even if it's the last fucking thing you do.
You will not give up, you will persevere and fuck the living shit out of this total dilf.
You REFUSE to give up.
So that's why you were in front of his door, looking directly up at this dilf.
"Uh, hey!" You tried to sound confident but the sweat on your palms and your nervous smile gave it away that you were, in fact, not confident.
"Ya need sum'?" Toji's deep, rough voice sent shivers down your spine. His voice was so hot, you needed to hear him moan in that voice.
"Oh, uh, yeah..." 'Quick! Think of something!' You said in your mind.
"Uh, uh- Uhm... sugar!" 'Sugar? Fucking sugar? What kind of fucking response is sugar?!'
"Sugar." Toji repeated your word.
'Shit! He probably thinks I'm crazy!'
"You need to borrow some... sugar?" Toji raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest as he looked down at you.
"Uhm... yeah." You say, wiping the sweat on your palms onto your pants as you stand there very awkwardly in the front door.
"I think I have some left... come in." Toji says as he walks into his apartment, leaving the door open for you to follow.
You nod and laugh awkwardly, following in after him and into the kitchen.
You're literally shaking from nerves, you pinch yourself to steady yourself but instead you end up letting out an, "ow!"
Toji quickly turns around with a raised eyebrow, "you okay, kid?"
You shake yourself off and nod quickly, "yup! Just, uh, stubbed my toe!"
Toji raises an eyebrow at that, he doesn't know how you stubbed your toe considering you were standing in the middle of the kitchen, not next to anything.
He just turns around and grabs a mug to collect some sugar.
"And I'm not a kid, by the way... I'm in college, I'm an adult."
"Coulda' fooled me." Toji scoffs and grabs the bag of sugar before pouring some into a mug.
"I don't look like a kid! I'm, like, average height for someone my age! A kid isn't this tall!"
Toji just looks you up and down with a smirk and hands you the mug filled with sugar.
Your cheeks turn pink when Toji looks you up and down with that sexy smirk.
"Okay, so you may not be a kid, but you're definitely a virgin. You stutter and blush every time I look at ya."
You immediately stutter again, "I most certainly am not a virgin!"
"Please, you wouldn't even know how to please a guy like me." Toji scoffs and rolls his eyes.
"First of all, I'm not a virgin, second of all, I totally would know how to!"
"Really?" Toji takes a few steps towards you, his arms crossed over his chest, "Prove it then."
Prove it?! You say in your head.
"P-Prove it?" Your brain short-circuits at that, is this seriously happening?
"You heard me."
"Oh."
Not even a second later he's grabbing your hand and leading you to his bedroom, causing you to drop the mug of sugar onto the floor, but neither of you care about that right now.
"Prove it quickly, my son's gonna be home soon." Toji sits down on the edge of the bed, looking at you expectingly.
He has a son?! He really is a dilf!!
"A-Ah, alright then..."
You take a few hesitant steps towards Toji on the bed, you've never slept with a guy this hot before, you're usually so confident in bed but this guy makes you so nervous!
"U-Uhm, I'm gonna start now..." You say shakily as you reach a hand out and drag your index finger down from Toji's chin to collarbone, brushing over his Adam's apple which surprisingly makes him shiver.
"You're so hot." You desire starts to take control, clogging your mind and blocking out all the anxiety you previously felt.
"Thanks, kid." Toji says before letting out a quiet yelp as he's pushed down onto the bed, "That was quick-"
"Stop calling me 'kid'. It's annoying."
You glare at him before gently running your hands down Toji's torso, down to his hips, giving them a squeeze.
"M' not a kid... I know what I'm doing."
"I'll believe it when I see it." Toji scoffs.
"You'll believe it soon." You say as you hook your fingers under the waistband of his grey sweatpants and pull them down along with his boxers to just below his ass.
"You're already hard, really?" You tease with a smirk before reaching a hand out to give a single pump to his cock, making Toji grunt and grit his teeth when you pull your hand back.
You crouch down to drag his pants and boxers down to his ankles before pulling them off and spreading his legs apart so you can see his hole.
"You're so goddamn hot." You practically drool as you sit on your knees, your hands placed firmly on the insides of his thighs to spread his legs apart as you bring your head close to lick his hole.
When you see Toji's pleased reaction you keep going, licking and fingering him open until you deem him ready enough to take your cock.
You stand up again and unzip your jeans, pulling your pants and boxers down just enough to let your cock spring free.
"Jesus, you've actually got a big dick." Now it's Toji's turn to feel flustered when he sees your cock in all it's glory.
"You'll be even more impressed once it's actually inside you."
You smirk and grip the underside of Toji's left thigh, you push it back and use your other hand to grab your dick, slapping it against Toji's hole a few times, making the man squirm.
"You gonna put it in or wha' Ah!" Toji's eyes widen and he groans as you press the tip in.
"For an old guy you're hella tight..." You grunt and slowly push the rest of your length in. Once you're all the way in you give it a minute for Toji to adjust before you start slowly moving.
You thrust in and out slowly. brushing against his prostate each time you thrust back in.
Toji lets out a long string of moans and grunts as you move back and forth, in and out. "J-Jesus... y-you actually know what y-you're doing, h-huh?" Toji can't help but smile in ecstasy as you speed up your thrusts, "Hhholy shit-!"
Toji groans and grips the bed sheets tightly, his knuckles turning white.
"Haah, ffuck!" You moan and grab onto his hips tightly as you speed up, getting faster with each thrust.
"Oh, fuck!" Toji squeezes his eyes shut, a few tears falling down the side of his face from pure pleasure.
Toji can't believe how fast it happens, but he cums almost instantly, he blacks out for a moment until he comes back to his senses when he feels a hard smack on his thigh.
He yelps and opens his eyes, immediately moaning again once he sees you're still fucking him.
"Y-You're still g-going?"
You spank his thigh again, "I haven't even cum yet."
You groan and throw your head back, you're still gripping his hips tightly, he's sure to be bruised by now.
Toji feels as though this has gone on forever, when it's only been fifteen minutes since you started, but to him it's felt like an eternity with how many times he's came.
Toji cums again and again, he's crying at this point but he doesn't dare ask you to stop.
It's not for another twenty minutes later till you cum, Toji sees stars when it finally happens, he cums so hard he blacks out, falling limp on the bed.
You come back to your senses and immediately freak out, "Toji?!"
You look down at him worriedly, when you see that he's breathing you calm down, you have no idea what to do so you do what any normal person would do.
You pull your pants back up and walk out of the room, quietly shutting it behind you.
You walk to the front door and open it only to see a teenage boy who's about to open the door.
You immediately stop in your tracks and have no idea what to say, you just quietly step outside and past the kid, the kid eyeing you warily.
"Uhm... you Toji's kid?" You ask awkwardly.
"Yeah... I'm Megumi..." The kid, or Megumi, says, still glaring at you.
"Uhm, maybe don't go into your dad's room for a while..." Is all you say before you run away, back into your apartment.
"What a weirdo..." Megumi says out loud to himself before walking inside.
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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year
Note
hello ! i loved ur hcs for ghost x innocent reader sm, what do you think of könig x innocent reader? love ur writing ♡
König w/ an Innocent S/O
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Warnings: Implications of Smut, Overprotective König, Rizzed-Out König, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.
There is nothing König won’t do for you.
Your overall calm, kind demeanour brings him peace he’s never known before.
And because of that – because he adores you beyond measure – he can get very…protective.
He often treats you as more fragile than you actually are.
Horror film playing in the background while you’re talking ? It’s getting switched off.
A picture of someone exposing a shoulder in a swimsuit catalogue? It’s getting thrown into a fire.
A pair of your own underwear left unattended next to the wash bin? König’s stuffing it into the bottom of the basket.
There comes a point where you have to tell him that, yes, while you may be a little naïve, even a bit oblivious, you’re not stupid.
And, as best he can, König treats you as you want to be treated, which is to say not as if you are a nigh-extinct species of flower.
And, given this new ‘power’ as such – this permission to show you the less rounded edges of life – König begins to have some rather self-serving ideas.
Regardless of if you like horror films or not, König will use it against you.
He’ll test your stomach for terror, putting something frightening on whenever you’re having date night to see if you’ll cling to him.
And if you do, irrespective of whether you fear what’s happening on-screen or not, his soul will ascend.
He can die happy when you hold on to him, nuzzling into his side while quietly asking him to “Hold me, Köni. Please.”
Makes him feel all big and important.
Wear his clothes around him, my God–
First time he saw you in his hoodie – after an impromptu visit from the Rain God made your original outfit unusable – he literally did a double-take.
He dropped the plate he was washing, grasped at it as it slipped between his soap-frothed fingers.
He just punched it into the sink, heard something crack, and turned his attention to you. And only you.
“I– You–” König couldn’t even form a full sentence as you stared at him, half-peeking from behind the door.
“You look…” He racked every file, folder and confine of his mind for anything to describe how he felt right now, how you made him feel.
It just came out as a strangled noise. And, smiling, you hurried into his arms.
You didn’t mind that they were soapy and wet. And neither did König.
Though, the only reason he didn’t was because his brain was so positively fried that he quite literally could think of nothing else except you.
The longer you’ve been dating, the more comfortable König becomes with being rougher with you, shall we say.
It all starts when you start doing things you never did before.
Like letting your hands slip lower beneath his waist, resting on his hips; Sitting on his lap when there are no other spaces available – and then eventually when there are seats available; saying his name like that – “Köni,” when you need help.
“I just can’t do it all by myself. I need someone big and strong to do it for me.”
And, regardless of how sincere you sound when you say it, regardless of how you bat your eyelashes and plump your lips when you look up at him, König is far too whipped to say no.
At first, König genuinely doesn’t think you’re doing it intentionally.
And neither do you, until you see the effect it has on him.
Making his cheeks flush and a pillow find its way to his lap when he sits on the sofa, your head placed precariously close to the growing issue between his legs.
Now, König isn’t the type to go throwing accusations around.
But when he catches you wearing his favourite hoodie, balancing on the edge of the kitchen counter to reach something placed on top of the cabinets (and I don’t mean the top shelf; I mean on TOP of the cabinets – like when you’re hiding a Christmas gift), your underwear peeking just below the hem, he can’t take it.
He knows what you’re doing.
And now that you’ve let onto him, with your doe eyes and your exasperated “Köni, I need you–” he’s gone. Snapped.
Just because you’re “innocent” doesn’t mean you’re exempt from König’s wrath.
To put it plainly, König didn’t seem so shy or frightful of damaging that night as he pinned you to the wall and took you for the first time <3
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
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nctsworld · 9 months
Text
fever pitch
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✩‌ mark x reader | pro baseball player!mark | fluff | smut | 8.4k
SUMMARY | your world is shaken up (literally) when you meet the handsome man guilty of the accidental baseball smack to your head. after a comforting meet-cute and realization that he’s the city’s ace pitcher, you two go on a date. and by the end of the night, mark thinks he’s falling for you faster than any pitch he’s thrown before.
WARNINGS | sexual content (near the end), arm riding (iykyk), breast/nipple play, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, piv sex, some drinking // this is 80% fluff-20% smut (with lots of corny writing); there's actually not too much baseball mentioned, but i did a little research on it; however, inaccuracies may be inevitable!
RATING | mature
AUTHOR'S NOTE | i am sorry this is so late </3 i hope y'all enjoy! please also check out (and maybe send in some prompts to) @nctpromptmeme!
TAGLIST | @curieouscapt @dearlyminhyung @infnteen
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Under the warm, summer sun, you beam as you walk towards your close friend, Chenle, and his dog, Daegal.
Shining back, he nods in hello to you with sunglasses pressed against his face. The teacup Bichon by his side wags its tail and pants happily at the sight of you, but is easily distracted the next second due to the park’s stimulating surroundings.
Dogs running amok, families having picnics, kids chasing each other in circles, friends playing baseball—
Specifically, a group of absolutely stunning men playing, as if a model catalogue exploded onto the field across from you.
But one in particular catches your eye.
Kind eyes shine behind wire-framed glasses, paired with a wide smile. His soft hair bounces with his light jog across the area.  
In his fitted white tee, he ends up in one spot and continuously throws the ball into his mitt. The game seems to be on hold as he speaks to a teammate. Absentmindedly, he rolls his arm sleeves up, revealing lean, yet defined muscles.
You silently gasp, struck by the beautiful sight, then gulp at the flexing of his biceps when he continues tossing the ball. His teammate must’ve told him a joke since the attractive figure throws his head back in joy.
And this is the exact moment you go into cardiac arrest because his laugh is the last straw of what you can handle from this man.  
Suddenly, the sound of your name shakes you out of your daze and reminds you to breathe.
“Okay, which one of these guys is the one who made you do a full stop in the middle of the grass?” Chenle asks, coming up beside you.
Daegal welcomes you with loving rubs against your leg. You squat to pet her, but your eyes are still honed in on the handsome stranger. The teams seems to be switching now when someone hands the bespectacled man a bat.
Your friend tracks your line of sight and nods, impressed. “Okay, he’s cute. Your distractedness will be excused this time.”
Scoffing, you shove his leg lightly and he giggles in return. After a few more moments of gawking, Chenle wonders, “Why do I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere?”
Standing up, you reply, “Probably comes here often with his friends when you walk Daegal?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I feel like I know him from somewhere else...”
Deciding you should probably drag your attention away and not be a blatant creep, you begin to walk away backwards, heading towards the ice cream cart before the line-up becomes as long as the field.
“Want your usual?”
“Yes, please!”
However, Chenle’s brightness fades instantly, jaw falling and eyes widening. You’re about to turn around to see what caused his change of expression when you hear a piercing—
“WATCH OUT!”
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With a throbbing in your head, you wake up, squinting at the blinding rays. Coming into view, the cute guy from before replaces the sun’s spot, staring down at you with concern written all over his face.
“Oh, my God,” he pants. His hands shake in front of him. “I am so, so, so, so sorry.”
You roll your eyes a bit, trying to center your vision. Groaning, you ask, “What happened?”
“I, uh...” The individual’s mouth, slightly open with gritted teeth, pulls to one side as he runs a hand through his hair, “may have batted the ball and it coincidentally went straight for your head.”
Carefully, he helps lift your upper body off the ground. He asks if you’re okay, and you nod. But a grimace comes after, causing the stranger’s frown to deepen.
“Maybe we should get you to the hospital. You might have a concussion.”
All of a sudden, he inches closer and gingerly runs his thumb over the source of the throbbing. It’s likely all in your mind, but you swear the pain lessens from his touch. You tilt your head further, angling into his palm and embracing the comforting gesture.
“I’ll obviously cover all the bills—”
You cut him off with a slow lift of your hand. “No. I’m okay, I’m okay.”
You know you’ll definitely be more than okay if you can steal some more time with his magical touch.
Continuing, you say, “And that’s too much. If anything, you can buy some ice cream for me and my friend.”
Glancing around for Chenle, you find him, crouching like the stranger, but a few feet away. With a raised corner of his mouth, you deduce he’s deliberately giving space for you to interact with Mr. Handsome Baseball Hitter.
Said handsome baseball hitter chuckles. Hearing it tugs at your chest, even harder now that you can experience it up close.
“I’ll buy you a thousand ice creams to make it up to you.” He retreats his hand and you don't hold back pouting from the fleeting contact you already miss. “But seriously, if there’s any long-term side effects, please reach out to me and I’ll pay for any expenses that come your way.”
“How would I know how to reach out to you?”
He rambles the following matter-of-factly, “Well, you can find my manager’s information online, there’s the team’s Twitter account”—he looks up cutely in thought—“and I guess I’ve been kinda active on Instagram—”
You tilt your head in confusion. What is this guy going on about?
“Okay,” you interrupt, “but who are you?”
His face flips through a few emotions in the span of seconds, but they’re unreadable. Finally landing on a grin, he says, “I think what’s more important is: do you know who you are?”
“Yeah, I’m—” And you properly introduce yourself.
“Good,” he says, “so we’re not dealing with amnesia.”
Your cheeks rise at his humour. Saying your name warmly, he adds, “Nice to meet you, I’m Mark.”
He lends out a hand for you to shake and you do so. With help from his knees, he rises upward, aiding you to stand on your feet in the process.
“Mark,” you repeat his name aloud, locking eyes with him, “the baseball batter with the strength of a thousand suns.”
At the odd line, you catch yourself, thinking how the injury must’ve loosened your filter. He laughs at the lengthy label. “You should see me pitch.”
You shake your head. “Nu-uh, nope,” you playfully say. “I’m going to be safe and stay far, far away from that sexy arm.”
Both you and Mark’s eyebrows rise at the remark.
Yep, definitely a loose filter. Maybe you really do have a concussion.
While Mark breaks out into a pleased smile, you snap your eyes shut, wanting to run away. Or disappear, if at all possible. “Strong, strong. I meant strong...”
Avoiding eye contact, you hurry and make way to a now standing Chenle. Trying to leave the embarrassment behind, you grumble, “Chenle, let’s get going.”
Your friend smirks and whispers by your side, “You sure you don’t want to dig your grave even further?” You attempt to elbow him, but he’s too quick and avoids it.
“It was nice meeting you, Mark,” you call out over your shoulder as you walk away. “Thanks for looking out for... my head?”
Cringe falls over, making you pick up your pace. Time to officially stop talking.
Chenle turns away, his body shaking as he releases a snicker into his fist.
“Again, I’m really, really sorry!” Mark apologizes in a shout. You can hear the sincerity in his voice, and also recognize his voice as the one who warned you to watch out before the incident occurred. “If you need to find me, I’ll be here over the next couple of weekends!”
When you’re far away enough from the scene of the crime, you smack Chenle in the arm. In response, Daegal chirps a bark at you. “You just had to watch me make a complete fool out of myself back there.”
He lovingly places an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into him. “I mean, Daegal’s great and all, but if anyone has any entertainment value out of the three of us here, it’s going to be you.”
You groan at his harsh, yet true, words.
“Your head good though?”
You note how the throbbing is barely there anymore. Touching the spot, you wince. At most, there’s likely just a bruise. “Yeah, it’s good.”
In a hopeful tone, Chenle sing-songs, “Think you wanna come to the park again with me next weekend?”
Reflecting on what Mark said, you ponder if he really meant it about coming to find him if anything was wrong. Even though everything would likely be fine, you’d love to see him again. 
But how could you face him after the disaster of your mouth running free? You shake your head in defeat.
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On Monday night, the next evening, your phone goes off right as you enter your apartment building. You drag your phone out, eyebrows furrowing at the notification that Chenle’s calling you. When was the last time he’s called you?
Actually, you’re fairly sure he’s never called you. Ever. You pick it up without hesitation. 
“Hey, everything okay?”
“Find a TV playing the baseball game,” Chenle pants. “Right now.”
Out of all the things he could call you for, this is what he’s asking you to do? He’s not even into baseball; basketball is the sport he adores to death. “What?”
“Do it,” he orders. “Now!”
“Okay, okay.”
Thankful you haven’t gone up to your apartment yet, you stride over to the little in-house gym in your building near the front entrance. You haven’t used it much since you moved in, but you recall that the TVs usually play either sports or news.
And you remember right, except at the moment, the baseball game is the only event plastered on the screens. Most people in the room are fixated on the game while they’re doing their set or on their respective cardio machine.
“Okay...” you trail in uncertainty. A pitcher from your city’s team throws the ball and the batter misses. The camera cuts to the batter from the opposing team, shaking his head in disappointment. “Why must I need to watch the baseball game so ba—”
The camera’s now on Mark’s face.
The same Mark from the neighbourhood park yesterday, sans the glasses, and in proper baseball gear.
He’s on live, national television, playing baseball in front of the crowd of tens of thousands of people.  
From a side angle, all eyes are on him as he tips his cap forward. His eyes mold into slits of concentration, his sharp jaw tightening after a lick of his lips. Sure, he’s different from yesterday’s care-free self, but you’d be lying if you said this serious side of him didn’t turn you on either.
Again, the camera cuts away, to the wide shot from behind him. Besides his great body (especially his gorgeous backside in those snug pants), you revel in the back of his white and dark green trimmed jersey, indicating his last name and his assigned number: Lee. 02.
He winds up for the pitch, raising his leg, and the ball is gone within a blink of an eye, landing directly into the catcher’s glove. The number 98 comes up near a rectangle on-screen, signifying the speed of his throw.
Mark wasn’t lying about his skills; he’s the pitcher with the strength of a thousand suns.
All the screens are filled with Player #02’s glimmer of a smirk, before he quickly stashes it away behind his cap. The camera lingers on him while the commentators in the background talk.
“A great put-out pitch for Lee,” one says. “His fastballs this season have been absolutely remarkable. Another great one from him.”
Cameras switch to another shot of Mark catching the ball, resetting once more for the next batter.
Another commentator supplements, “Aside from the slight hiccup earlier this season, he’s definitely on-track in making his mark on his debut in the league. A rookie ace indeed. It’s no wonder they’ve been calling him ‘The Tiger!’”
Understanding dawns upon you as to why he stated how easy it would be to contact him (and to be able to pay for any potential hospital bills). The city’s new star pitcher—how could you not know him?
“I knew he looked familiar!” Chenle pipes up from the other end, just as Mark’s nice figure takes up the screen once more. Awe and shock consume your voice, and you’re unable to create a coherent reply.
But you don’t need to, not when you have Chenle to talk your ear off about the game, but mostly Mark, for the rest of the night.
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The week passes by, with you casually going through Mark’s Instagram (which, as he mentioned, he only occasionally posts on) and watching a few more of Mark’s games with Chenle in tow. 
You fawn together over his plays (and his ass) and, despite not knowing much about the game, he must be having a great week from the commentators’ constant praises and the team’s overall wins.
Once Sunday finally arrives though, a wave of nervous anticipation rolls over you.
Because for you, it’s game time.
Sure, you may not have initially wanted to, but now that you know who Mark is, what is there to lose if you step up to the plate and see him again?
The scene of the park is quite similar to last week’s, except for the large presence of people staring at the men, many you recognize from the city’s team from all the games you’ve watched this week, playing baseball on the field. You wonder if you were too caught up with Mark last week because you didn’t notice how everyone else was this enraptured too.
As you stroll closer to the grassy area with Chenle and Daegal hovering behind, the players coincidentally take a breather. Some parents quickly take advantage of the break to bring their children up to receive autographs.
This is perfect timing for you too.
However, you stop in place, debating if this was a good idea to return. You’re surely going to make a fool out of yourself again (this time with no injury to blame) and Chenle, despite his promise of not interfering, will totally budge in and—
And it’s too late to backpedal, because Mark, although distracted by the little cluster of people surrounding him, lifts his head momentarily and his gaze lands directly on you.
Air seizes in your lungs when he flashes you a grin that could compete with the sun. He gives a small nod and wave. Like a star struck fangirl, you glance around to ensure he’s not gifting that nod and wave to anyone else. 
But no, you’re not mistaken—his eyes are only on you.
Saying his thanks to his assumed fans, he jogs his way over to you, attired today in a fitted grey-mixed tee, ripped denim jeans, and thicker framed glasses compared to last time.
“Hey,” Mark says, still grinning beautifully. “How’s your head feeling?”
His smile is incredibly infectious. It’s a challenge not to do the same when you’re in the presence of this man. “Better. Had some bruising, but it’s all gone now.”
He nods in response, mumbling a “Good, good” under his breath. With his face turned away, he swipes some hair behind his ear and seems to be preparing himself to say something. But, you will yourself to address the elephant in the room first.
“So, why didn’t you tell me that you were in the major leagues?”
At the unexpected question, Mark darts his head up and draws it back in surprise, his lips pouting adorably. Your heart bursts.
Contrasting his cuteness, you notice the hint of stubble around his mouth. First the pout, now this. You’re captivated by it more than you should be.
He chuckles and lifts a shoulder. “Well, you didn’t ask.”
“I did,” you laugh. “I asked who you were!”
After looking up in thought for a moment, he concedes. “Okay, maybe you did.”
You two laugh in unison, and even when the moment is over, both of you stare into each other's eyes. Time’s filled with comfortable silence and equally comfortable smiles. 
Mark breaks the silence, asking, “Are you still wanting to stay safe and far away from my sexy arm?”
“Oh, my God...” you groan, hating to hear the same words that left your mouth from last week.
“No,” he says through another burst of laughter, “it’s a genuine question.”
“I meant to say strong!” you argue petulantly. “I was just a little out of it from the hit, no thanks to you.”
“I know, I know,” he giggles. “I’m genuinely wondering though, cause...” Mark pauses and begins to fidget, this time rubbing the nape of his neck. 
You tilt your head, intrigued. “Cause what?”
“Cause, I was, uh, wondering,” he says, eyes averting yours. “Since I owe you for your head injury—”
“You don’t owe me anything—”
“And I know it’s a long shot cause you’re absolutely gorgeous and you’re probably taken—”
This time, you draw your head back in surprise over the compliment and the grand assumption that you’re off the market. 
“—but did you wanna go out with me sometime?” His hand moves through his hair before he shyly looks at you again. “Maybe?”
Before you can even process what's happening you hear a "Yes!" behind you, causing you to jolt upright. “Yes, she will absolutely go on a date with you!”
“Chenle!” you gasp, appalled but not surprised, in the direction of your close friend as he nears your side. You face Mark again and gesture in the direction of the incoming intruder. “Don’t mind him.”
As per his charming self, your friend holds out a hand. “Hi, I’m Chenle. Your newest number one fan. Great plays this week, by the way.”
“Mark.” He takes the hand to shake, giving him a small smile. “And thanks.”
Mark’s eyes wander down and notices the dog wagging its tail excitedly. His face lights up. “Aw, who’s this cute little guy?”
“Daegal,” Chenle answers. “She’s my little handful, besides this one.” he says, jerking his head in your direction. Mark's too focused on Daegal to see you slapping her owner in the arm. 
Squatting down, he pets the lively dog. You follow suit and crouch down too, watching Daegal gift Mark tons of licks and enthusiastically rubs herself against his hands and arms. She’s never this delighted with strangers usually. 
“What do you think, Daegal?” Mark asks, holding eye contact with her as if she could reply, then he glances over at you. “Do you think your friend should go out with me?”
Immediately, she barks happily, causing all three of you to laugh. 
“Good girl,” Chenle whispers from above.
Although you pucker your lips playfully at Daegal’s betrayal, you reach out to pet her fondly along with Mark. 
“But how will you guarantee my safety from your strong arm?” Your stare lingers on them. Not that he has to know, but you had to make a conscious effort to not say sexy once more.
“I promise I won’t be tossing any more of my balls in your direction,” Mark casually says.
After a pause, your eyebrows raise and his eyes widen.
“Wait, I mean—shit...” he hisses, closing his eyes and shaking his head. Your lips twitch, suppressing a laugh and finding him adorable.
“I know what you mean,” you quickly say, relieving him of his embarrassment.
He shyly glances up at you and you share a comforting look. Suddenly, someone from the field hollers his name. With a small frown, he begins to walk in reverse away from you.
“I probably should get back, but now that you know how to get in touch, message me on Instagram and we can figure out a time that works for our date?”
“Yes, definitely!”
Incredulously, you look up at Chenle for answering on your behalf.
“For sure, Mark,” you say. “Have a great game.” With the way he plays, you know he will.
Chenle and you wave your good-byes to him and watch him retreat to his friends.
“You do know that I'm the one he asked out, right?” you ask as the three of you begin to walk towards to the park's popular ice cream cart, except you're more vigilant this time.
Your friend grabs out cash, ready to pay for your order. Or at least you hope so, for all the trouble he caused.
“Yes, and that's why I will live vicariously through you!”
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After messaging him over the last week (with Chenle hovering over your shoulder and backseat driving many of the messages), Thursday really couldn't come fast enough for your date with Mark.
As you step out of your apartment complex, your jaw drops and an impressed smile fills your face.
In a green bomber, black tee, and skinny jeans, Mark coolly pulls up on a red Ducati motorbike. You recall seeing a post or two on his Instagram with it, but it takes you by surprise to see it in-person.
He takes off his helmet and runs fingers through his hair, attempting to ruffle out the messiness. You're a little envious of how good he looks, even with messy hair.
Your date takes in your outfit—an off-the-shoulder floral dress that teeters the lines of being cute and sexy simultaneously—and beams.
“Wow,” he says, mouth agape. “You look gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” you say, then make an over-the-top attempt to check him out. “You don't look so bad yourself.”
After a moment of shared smiles, he tilts his head towards his mode of transportation. “Hope this isn't too daunting.”
You shake your head. “Not at all.”
As Mark helps you with your helmet, now that you're up-close, you notice he's clean-shaven, unlike the other times you've seen him, and you presume he opted for contacts for tonight.
You also can't help but relish in the proximity of his hands near your face, flashing previously to the first time you met only a couple of weeks ago.
Once he's done, you ready yourself for the ride by wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, holding onto him snugly.
He twists around with his visor open.
“Ready?”
You respond with a squeeze around his waist and a nod, so he closes his visor and you're off through the nightscape of the city.
Everything passes by in a blur, but when there are the occasional moments when he slows down or stops at the red lights, you drink in how beautiful your city is.
On the other hand, you're dying to know what Mark planned for tonight. He gave you a vague idea—dinner, a small post-dinner activity (no balls involved, Mark promised), and dessert—but that's all.
In a nicer part of the city, he stops and parks in front of a bumbling Italian restaurant.
Once inside, Mark gives his name to the greeter, stating how he has a reservation, and a sweet host immediately leads you to your table. As you walk through the restaurant, you admire its warm atmosphere with dim lights and candles spread everywhere, along with the many other couples eating their dinner.
The host stops in front of a secluded semi-circular plush booth. You shimmy in, and Mark follows. Both of you sit comfortably close near the middle of the booth.
Despite how much you have been talking through DMs over the last week, as first dates often go, conversation is awkward at first.
However, as dinner progresses and the extravagant wine (Mark insisted, “Only the best for my date, please.”) makes its way through your systems, it gets easier.
You learn more about his family, his team, and his love for reading. For him, he learns about your friends, your job vs. dreams constant conflict, and your love for music.
The easiness also goes beyond words. Underneath the table, your legs brush up against one another's. You throw your head back in laughter, and you bravely touch his forearm in response. Mark even leans in close to your body, sometimes the edge of your shoulders gently pressing into the other.
By the end of dinner, being the gentleman he is, Mark doesn't even let you glance at the check and pays it all without hesitation. Then, you're outside and on his motorbike again, off to the mysterious post-dinner activity.
When he reaches a particular end of town where there isn't much around except one place, you have an inkling where you're about to go.
Once you're there and parked, your hunch is answered correctly, but you realize something.
“Isn't the aquarium closed at this hour?”
He shrugs nonchalantly and begins to usher you forward with a hand lingering at your lower back. Whispering into your ear, he says, “I may have booked it privately for tonight.”
As you walk through, Mark and you stick to each other's side, shoulder to shoulder, and switch between revealing more about yourselves while reading and conversing about the informational signs on the aquatic creatures.
Both of you stop in front of the main showcase of the aquarium: the large tank that houses two beluga whales.
Mark leans in a bit closer to the tank, catches sight of one of them in a corner, and points it out to you. As he straightens, you feel the back of your hand brush up against his.
“You’re quite the romantic,” you state while glancing at the tank, almost as low as a whisper. Even with nobody around, there's something so serene about the aquarium that makes you want to be respectfully quiet. "Does everyone get this first-date, first-class experience from you?”
“Only the girls who get hit on the head by me,” he teases in a whisper, making you softly chuckle.
After a moment passes as you watch the tank, hoping and waiting for the beluga whales to move to where you're standing, Mark asks, “Would it be surprising to say I don’t go on dates as often as you think?”
Your eyes dart toward him, but you quickly keep your gaze fixated back on the tank. You nod. “A little.”
He hums, followed by a lengthy sigh. You can sense a shift in him. You hear how it's laced with sadness, maybe even a little regret.
“I’ve been working so hard to get to this point and of course being drafted’s been so worth it, but it also meant that I had to sacrifice some things along the way. But now that I’m finally here”—you feel his gaze now directed on you—“I definitely can rearrange my time for other things.”
Your breathing slows as you turn to face him.
Courageously, Mark intertwines his hand with yours and his free one raises, caressing the bare skin of your upper arm. The contact makes you gasp and hold your breath.
He drags himself forward, as do you, and his hand is about to cup your face...
Until the two belugas are now your front-row audience, glancing at you as if they were smiling.
You both chuckle softly and give them a wave, not wanting to lose this rare chance of seeing them this close.
And although the special moment has passed, you two finish off the marine life tour with your hand in his.
Once outside, Mark leads you somewhere nearby. After about ten minutes of walking, you're standing on a large cliff with a scenic view of the city. You've never seen the city from this height before, and all its twinkling lights and the starry sky beckon you.
An ice cream truck is also coincidentally there, and you assume Mark booked it for your date tonight.
You two grab your waffle cone orders and sit down on a wooden bench that overlooks the view.
“So,” you say, licking the cone on its side to avoid the ice cream from dripping down your hand, “does this go towards the debt of you hitting my head?”
“Of course,” he nods with his signature smile, doing the same as you and trying to avoid his sweet treat from melting. “It'll be one ice cream out of the many future thousands.”
The implication that there’ll be more than just this date hangs in the night air, almost as if it's a promise, and you really hope it'll be true.
At the very least, it feels true as you peer over your city, leaning your head onto Mark's shoulder while he casually drapes an arm around you.
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Getting off the motorcycle, Mark walks you to the front door of your place and you don't even think twice about asking if he wants to come in. He says yes a little too enthusiastically, making you giggle, but it confirms that neither of you want the night to come to an end just yet.
Mark hangs his jacket as you grab beers from the fridge. Both of you make talk for some time on your couch, but the energy in the room is buzzing, especially since the almost-kiss.
The second you gravitate towards Mark, he rushes to wrap an arm around your waist and his free hand cups your face, dragging you in for the first kiss that's been itching to happen.
His lips are dangerously soft, addictive really. You swear he tastes like cherry (could be from the food earlier or maybe a lip balm flavour, you wonder).
It's a slow, yet deep, start. In the beginning, the kissing is with intent, wanting to know what each other tastes like. Naturally, the curiosity evolves into exploration, with Mark cautiously dipping his tongue into your mouth. You react with zeal, swiping your tongue against his and even experiment sucking on it. He shudders at the sensation.
Mark holds you close throughout, but your bodies move into a new position, letting you sink comfortably into your couch beneath him.
Here, passion rises. He grips your waist, whilst his body presses into yours, and he begins to trail down your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses. Although it's already off your shoulders, he drags a sleeve of your dress further down, hungry to kiss as much of your bare skin as he possibly can.
Your fingers tangle in his hair and you arch into him, embracing his clear desire against you. You're falling and falling and falling, becoming more drunk with every touch and kiss from Mark. Ever since the first day you met, you couldn't help but yearn for his touch. Now, having a taste of him like this, you're desperate to experience more.
Although you're underneath him, you decide to take hold of the kissing. When he takes a breather for an instant, you steal the chance and fervently kiss along his jaw and rugged neck. Mark moans, gripping your waist harder, and grinds into you, his hardness dying to be free.
Shockingly, he suddenly tears away, sitting up and panting. Confused, you mirror him.
“Should we stop?” he asks. “Like, I know I might be being presumptuous, but I don’t wanna ruin our potential next date if we rush too soon?”
It melts your heart that he retracted because he's concerned over your potential future. You delicately rearrange some of his loose hair stuck to his forehead. “If you want to stop, we can.”
He pouts, reminding you of him previously at the park, followed by a cute whimper.
“But I don’t want to stop...” he laugh-smiles, leaning into you, about to drive his mouth into yours again.
“Neither do I.”
And with that, Mark makes the split-second decision to continue this good thing and not look back. Once again, he's leaving love upon your shoulders, at a measured pace currently, and he carefully lowers your dress. Drooping off your shoulders, you let it drop and bunch around your stomach.
Surprise is written on his face, as you didn't wear a bra underneath your dress, but the surprise quickly dissipates into enthrallment over the beautiful sight.
He lowers himself, mouth traversing across your chest while his free hand gently massages one of your breasts. You succumb to the rising pleasure, curving into him again.
When he arrives at one tip of yours, he looks up and asks, his voice low and gravelly, “Can I...?”
You whimper-nod, already on the verge of begging him to take the next step.
It kills you that he teases first, merely pecking the surrounding area and your tip; his mouth leaving goosebumps in its wake. Your patience grows thin.
“Mark, please, just—”
Air is depleted as his tongue swipes against your nipple in a broad stroke. He then wraps his mouth around it, sucking firmly. The other hand that was kneading your other breast turns to focus on your nipple, pinching it between his index finger and thumb.
The more he sucks, the more you hear the wet puckering of his lips, the more it makes you clench tighter. Bliss begins to boil in your abdomen when he flicks his tongue and mimics the same on your other tit with the pad of his thumb.
Your breathing grows heavier, and you sense you're close, but Mark abruptly stops. You're about to speak up, believing he'd be the type to finish you off if you ask, until you realize he's kneeling on the floor in front of you and stripping off his t-shirt.
With your help, Mark eases your dress to the floor and places it safely on the coffee table. Focusing on you, his gaze is dripping of lust—so carnal, so different than his regular self.
As Mark advances to your heat, your palms graze over his defined shoulders and back. He parts your legs further with his hands wrapped around your inner thigh.
“Wearing panties?” he inquires, his finger pulling the fabric a bit to the side.
“Huh?”
“No bra, but panties?” he smirks, making you realize the joke.
You roll your eyes and relax momentarily, leaning your head back. “Are you into that? No panties underneath?”
“Could be hot,” he shrugs, tugging your underwear to your calves and tossing them off to the side.
“Maybe one date I can do th-ah—”
Without warning, he dives in, one his hands now grasping you by your lower back, and you lurch forward to get a good view of his head between your legs. You've got a grip on his shoulder, the other tugging at his hair.
His tongue laps at your folds with agility, figures out what you like or don't like. There isn't much you don't like, Mark deduces. Languid licks. Penetrating patterns. Fast flicks.
You respond eagerly to them all with harsh tugs to his hair, notably when he spreads your folds to devour you entirely. The hair pulling hurts a bit, but he doesn't mention anything; he likes it a little rough.
Despite the positive reactions, he can tell you've been at a simmer with his moves, not quite reaching close to a high. He withdraws his mouth, and, through your hazy vision, you catch sight of his honeyed lips.
But your eyes blow wide open and an acute moan dispels as your lover of the night fills you with his fingers, alongside his licking of your clit.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—”
Following a few more minutes of scissoring and a few sucks to your bundle of nerves, he asks, breathing into your inner thigh, “Does this feel good, gorgeous?”
Your lip is drawn between your teeth, digging so hard from the pleasure you wonder if it'll bleed soon. “Mm-hmm.”
“Good,” he says, kissing your thigh tenderly, “'cause I'm gonna need you to remember how good tonight is so you'll keep coming back for more.”
Not gonna be a problem, you think, but all you could muster is senseless panting.
“You close?”
You can barely release a whimper out to respond, and Mark orders you to tell him when you're near.
It doesn't take long to get there. The warmth in your abdomen encapsulates your body and your hips rut upward frantically, desiring your climax to take authority.
“Mark, Mark, Mark. Fuck, I'm close, I'm—”
Immediately, he stands up, fingers still inside you and somehow impaling you further and faster while his thumb lazily strokes at your clit when possible, and his ardent kiss is the needed catalyst to take you over the brink. Simultaneously, the kiss swallows your bountiful whines.
When you finally come down from your high, you kiss him deeply and feel him through his jeans against you.
“Let's take this to the bedroom, I need to grab—”
“Should I run to the pharmacy to—?”
In tandem, you chuckle over how in sync you are, and tip your perspired foreheads against the other.
Holding his hand, you lead him to your bedroom. You turn on your bedside lamp and gesture to the tissues, so he can clean his hands. You then bound to your bedroom bathroom and fumble around to find your condom packs somewhere in a drawer.
Upon your return, you're graced with the sight of Mark sitting naked on the edge of your bed, stroking himself. You almost salivate.
God, he's bigger than you expected, and that's only one part of his magnificent body. You didn't have the opportunity before to admire his muscular abs, but you take every chance to do so now. The way his arm flexes with each stroke. And those thighs...
“Sorry,” he murmurs and shyly shrinks a bit, in contrast to his lewd action, “hope it's okay that I took my pants off already.”
He really is quite endearing. Maybe even a little perfect.
“There is absolutely nothing to apologize for, Mark.”
You place the condoms onto your bedside table, but are so absorbed with Mark's cock and existence. Entranced, it's your turn to drop to your knees.
Fingers wrap around his cock, and Mark's groans rise. You delve in your enthrallment for a bit, squeezing and stroking to your heart's content until you finally decide to ease him into your mouth.
Your tongue works wonders, tasting the underside of his length with every bob of your head. Meanwhile, his hands lazily thread through your hair and he watches attentively.
More saliva develops and drips, especially when you relax your mouth to let him hit the back of your throat. Obscene slurps accompany his delicate moans, both of which permeate the room in melodious unity.
As his threading develops into tight pulls of your hair, you detract yourself to avoid the night ending right then and there.
Since he's still sitting on the side of the bed, you sit onto his lap with a plan to abate and elongate the tension. You're back to kissing him, allowing both parties' hands to roam each other.
“I love your arms,” you mumble into his mouth as you reach for them.
“Yeah,” he chuckles, “I know you love my sexy arms.” You punch him teasingly.
But an idea flickers in your head. You halt your actions.
“This might be weird to ask, but could I...” you trail off, picking at your hands, realizing maybe you shouldn't finish your question.
“Hey,” he whispers, holding your chin in his hand. “You can ask me anything, beautiful.”
You hesitate with closed eyes.
“Could I... ride your arm?”
Peeking a nervous eye open, an evidently puzzled Mark stares back at you.
“I—What? Sure?” His voice raises in octaves.
Embarrassed, you try to wave it off. “Never mind that I asked.”
“No, hey,” he says, his palm caressing the side of your face and angling it towards him. “I'm flattered and obviously, nobody has ever asked to ride my arm before. But if you want to give it a go, by all means, I'm open to it.”
“Yeah?”
Mark gives you the sweetest smile and a reassuring nod. “Yeah.”
Since you suggested it, you lead him to lay on the bed, more in the centre so there'd be enough room for you to sit. He watches you gingerly lift his hand near head-level, as if he's almost flexing to show-off or about to lay his head on his palm.
Carefully, you sit onto his left arm, facing the direction of his body. At the contact, you shudder. “Is this okay?”
He agrees, enticed by your ass near his face and the general exquisiteness of your being. “You can put more weight on it, it's okay.”
You comply, relishing in the pressure of his arm against you. After becoming more comfortable and placing most of your weight to an arm on the bed, you slowly rub yourself upon his arm.
Mark's fascinated by this foreign act, eyes watching your every move. With his free hand, he touches himself.
His favourite part about you riding his arm? The look on your face—fluttering eyes paired with your lip biting—and the fact that you find him this attractive, that using him this way can simply get you off.
“This okay still?” you breathe.
“Fuck yeah.” He squeezes himself harder. He knows the answer to the next question, but he wants to hear it from you directly. “Does it feel good for you?”
You assent with a sharp moan. Without notice, you lick your palm with the intent of reaching over to grab his cock. At first, he's confused when he notices your hand, but he happily lets you handle him.
“Oh, God,” Mark pants.
You fasten your pace on his arm, grinding greedily against him. As you do so, your arm attempts to match the pace for his desire.
“Fuck,” Mark twists his head to look at your hips, tries to focus on how wet you are amidst his own pleasure, “you really do love my arms...”
It's a sweet dream for you—no, sweeter than any dream or fantasy could ever be. This is real, this spectacular sensation spreading all over and it's all thanks to his arm. Your body winds up, tighter and tighter, and you eventually break, chasing your second orgasm of the night.
Cleaning your mess up, you wipe his arm fast, keen on what's about to happen next. You then draw him into your mouth a bit to get him up again before rolling the condom onto him.
Once the rubber is on, you tease him from above, sliding the tip of his cock against your pulsing centre.
Mark may be a gentleman, but a gentleman can only be patient for so long. He seizes his possession and you gasp as he holds you by your hip, forcing you to sit down onto him.
The feeling is heavenly, stretching you sweetly. You bounce on his cock, and the sounds from you two are louder than from before. There's a small voice inside your head, worried about a noise complaint from your neighbours, but future you could deal with that.
Right now, it's all about Mark. He plays with your breasts with every move you make, while you fondle his abs and arms. Both of you try your best to look at one another through the pleasure, but it's difficult when you're floating higher and higher.
He then clasps your lower back and skillfully rises upward with the help of his strong abs. This position provides an angle for him to do all the work to thrust into you, as well as continuing to rub your breasts and even suck on them again.
At this point, you're in absolute state of frenzy, drowning in all the stimulation. Mark's underwater, right there with you too.
He pulls away in the midst of licking your nipple, his eyes going round. Nevertheless, you lean into him, your breasts pressed into his face and your mouth hangs.
Together, you cry each other's names and swear in endless spirals and the bliss finally reaches its peak for the evening.
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As Mark lays next to you in your bed, observing your peaceful sleeping state, he's obviously amazed by tonight's events, but he’s also unsure what’s in-store for either of you.
There are so many factors at play with his career, you're both essentially still strangers, the future is unknown...
And yet, despite these worries, the feeling blooming in his chest is more than a blossoming liking. It’s akin to the moment he steps up to plate, either ready to bat or pitch. Nervousness, determination, and...
It’s too early to call it, but when he’s around you, he swears it feels a lot like his love for the game.
He shakes his head, not wanting to jump into the deep end this fast. He doesn't want to ruin this good thing prematurely.
Nevertheless, he places one last kiss atop your forehead before he sleeps, praying you'll be a new constant in his life, at least in the near future.
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EPILOGUE — FOUR MONTHS LATER
Today is game four of the World Series and your city has won the previous three. If they continue their streak, tonight will be the night where Mark and his teammates take home the championship.
Hours prior to the big game, the teams are having batting practice beforehand to warm-up.
With your chin perched in your palm, you watch Mark closely—of course, safely from a distance and from behind him—and nod with every ball he hits well at the mound. You're seated in the lower area of the stadium among many of the other team members' families and friends, including a gleeful Chenle.
“Stop checking out your boyfriend's ass,” he orders, nudging you with his shoulder as he tosses a piece of popcorn into his mouth.
“You stop checking out my boyfriend's ass,” you retort, nudging him back.
The two of you continue your little nudging contest until he says, “So when you guys get married—”
“Oh, my God, Chenle...”
“I'm just saying, we all know you two are going to have beautiful little baseball player babies! Anyway, as I was saying, when you guys get married, can Daegal be the ringbearer somehow? She's pretty much the reason why you guys got together in the first place.”
You shake your head, eyes still on your love. “Chenle, we'll have that conversation when and if we get there.”
“When we'll get there,” he states confidently, and you laugh, dismissing him.
Sure, it may have been a fresh relationship only four months in, but you couldn't deny that maybe the idea of marriage wiggled its way through your mind here and there. Despite your thoughts, it wasn't at the forefront; you were happy in love with Mark now, here in the present.
Player #02 hands his bat over to another player and jogs towards you. It makes you wonder why he hasn't done an advertisement with slo-mo running and wind blowing through his hair yet.
“How’d I do?” Mark asks, leaning onto the railing next to you. Chenle gives him two thumbs up with a large grin.
“Awesome," you agree. "Did you think about hitting my head with each ball?”
Mark chuckles and juts his tongue to a side of his mouth. “You’re never going to let me live that down, huh?”
“Never,” you quip, scrunching your nose. You reach out for him and hold the tips of his fingers in yours. “You nervous?”
“Yeah,” he exhales, closing his eyes. “More than usual.”
Your fingers progress forward and your thumbs rub the back of his hands lovingly. “You’ll do amazing, like always.”
“You’re too sweet, babe. But this might be the game and I might—”
You cut him off by cupping his cheek in your palms.
“And you are the Mark ‘The Tiger’ Lee”—you tenderly swipe some of his hair away from his face—“top contender for both the Rookie of the Year and CY Young Award. So no matter what happens, you will come out on top.”
In awe and in a little disbelief with how well-put that was, he stares at you with starry, doe-like eyes. He's so grateful to have met you, to have someone so supportive of him in his life.
After a few moments, he concedes. “I had a pretty great run this season, haven’t I?”
You admire how humble your boyfriend always is. It's one of his greatest traits.
“And you have me,” you add jokingly.
He tilts his head side to side. “I guess there’s that too...”
The two of you share a kiss, innocent at first, until he deepens it and you wrap your arms around his neck, which generates some of his teammates to holler and whistle. Likewise, you hear Chenle screech, "Save it for after the win!" and you swear you feel some popcorn being thrown at your back.
Finally, until you're content, you peel away and press your forehead against his.
“Go get ‘em, Tiger,” you whisper.
Mark nods, a little more confident than before. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“So much,” he punctuates it with a loving squeeze to your shoulder.
You don't think you'll see him before the game starts, so you grant him one last good luck kiss.
You wouldn't know it that night, but by the end of the season, Mark would indeed take home the Rookie of the Year and the CY Young Award, being the youngest recipient of both awards.
That evening though, your city's team works in unbelievable harmony (or maybe the opposing team is having its worst day) because the game is a perfect one. Mark shuts out the other team, not allowing them to have any runs whatsoever...
Thus, sealing his first title of being a World Series champion.
But certainly not without his beloved running out into the field to give him a congratulatory hug and kiss among the sea of people.
And at the end of that night in the confines of your bedroom (after earth-shattering celebratory sex), you would find out that Chenle was right (and later, that he was in on it) when Mark, merely in his boxers, gets on one knee with a little opened box in front of you.
He's visibly shaking, and not because he's half-naked. You've never seen him so unnerved. Your love spills the following in almost one breath:
“I know we just started dating, and we can be engaged for, like, ten years or whatever. I just know that, deep down, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I may have felt this way since our first date. I really, really, really hope you feel the same, even if just a little bit."
Mark takes a deep breath, trying to regain composure for the important question he exhales.
Tears rise in your eyes as an ocean of feelings hit you, but within that ocean, no doubts rise to the surface whatsoever.
All you think about is how you will be forever grateful for the baseball that hit your head on that life-changing day.
You immediately say yes.
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