#( hello !! hope it's okay i drop in ! )

[sainz100]

2024 Hungarian GP | x (edited)

[the-bear-and-his-sunbird]

I was tagged by @dymme thank you so much <3

Put your music library on shuffle, then list the first five songs that come up in a poll to let people vote for which one they like the most! Then tag Tumblr friends to keep the game going!

I

I must say I do not have the energy right now, so please please please (!!!) if you see this and you want to, feel tagged! Yes, you. Feel tagged and tell me what beautiful things you are listening to!!

Also @fireheartedpup. I am sorry but I am really curious.

[seventh-district]

7am, eating cold leftover teriyaki stir-fry for breakfast and crying over blorbos

[midnight--ink]

Holy shit hello paian nation it's been so long. I didn't mean to abandon this blog but unfortunately I've been super busy :')

I thought about sharing this before and I figured I might as well, this is the first little RD drabble I wrote forever ago that would eventually evolve into my Paian fic "like real people do." Some bits are the same and you can probably see how this eventually grew into the longer version. I found it in my drafts again and I still like it a lot so I decided to polish it up a bit, and I thought people on here might enjoy it :)

Ian sighed, typing out the last couple sentences of a report for Dr. Edega before collapsing back into his chair. He squinted at the bright monitor screen, reaching up to rub at his stinging eyes under his glasses. He'd been staring at his computer for entirely too long.

He stood from his chair, yawning and stretching out his back until he felt it pop. He glanced over at the stairs that led out of the basement and wondered absently if Ada's shift was over yet. He was supposed to have left at five PM himself, but there was still so much work that needed to be done and Edega had really been breathing down their necks lately.

He shoved several of the scattered papers on his desk into his shoulder bag and trudged up the stairs to the first floor, making his way down the hall to Ada's office. He raised his fist to rap his knuckles against the wood, before the door abruptly opened inwards and he found himself nose-to-nose with Ada. They narrowly avoided knocking their foreheads together, and he stumbled back a little as he tried to ignore the way his stomach fluttered. She blinked at him in surprise. Her coat sleeves were rolled up to the elbows and her brown curls were tied back in a loose ponytail.

"Ian?" Her mouth turned down in a worried frown. "I thought you went home. Isn't your shift over?"

"Oh. Y–Yeah. Sorry. Just...had to finish a report for Edega," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. He checked his watch.

"The carer's with my mom until eight, so I still have some time."

Ada stared at him with a furrowed brow and big, brown, serious eyes. She sighed.

"Just...promise me you won't do this too often, okay? I'm worried that he's pushing you too hard."

Ian laughed softly.

"You're worried about me?" At Ada's stern look, he acquiesced. "Okay, okay, I promise."

"Good," she said, finally allowing herself to smile a little. Ian took note of the dark rings under her eyes, the coffee stain on her coat, the way several locks of brown hair were escaping her messy ponytail. She returned to her desk and started organizing the myriad papers that were strewn over it. He followed her inside and hovered awkwardly by the door. Ada looked up.

"Oh—did you need something?"

Ian froze, heat rushing to his cheeks. He looked at his feet and rubbed a hand up and down his arm.

"Oh. Uh...no, I guess not. Just—just wanted to say hi."

She gave him a small, bemused grin.

"Hi."

He watched her shuffle some more papers around on her desk, humming under her breath as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind one ear. Eight years was a long time to get to know someone, and he had spent those years memorizing all of Ada's traits and quirks and idiosyncrasies. He knew how much milk and sugar she liked in her coffee, the way she snorted when she laughed, which movies always made her cry. He knew all of her worst insecurities and how she covered them up with a smile. He knew how, whenever possible, she would take a few extra minutes to chat with the patients or reassure their nervous loved ones before an operation.

She grabbed a stack of loose patient reports and tapped them against the desk to straighten them. She looked so tired.

Wordlessly, he opened his arms for a hug, and it was only a moment before she dropped the papers and tackled him like a linebacker. He wheezed a little at the force of it but wrapped his arms around her just as tightly, and she leaned into him. They began to sway unconsciously back and forth, holding each other, and he could feel her smiling into his neck.

"What are we doing?" she asked, giggling deliriously. "Dancing?"

He was giggling, too. "I—I don't know. I'm so tired."

Ada snorted, and Ian's heart did a stupid fluttery thing that hopefully wasn't an arrhythmia.

"God. What a pair we are."

Ian took a moment to be thankful that she couldn't see his face just then, because he knew that he must be grinning like an idiot.

"I think my shift just ended, too, by the way," Ada mumbled into his shoulder with a yawn. "Intern's taking the night shift."

He huffed out a laugh, resting his cheek on top of her head.

"What would we do without the intern?"

Ada hummed appreciatively.

"They're a saint."

Ian closed his eyes and buried his face in her soft hair, letting himself feel her heart beating in tandem with his. After a long moment, Ada heaved another sigh and began to pull away. Ian immediately missed the warmth.

"Okay, I should probably head home. Gotta go scrounge up something for dinner."

An idea struck him. Ian willed his voice to sound casual, unsuccessfully. He tried to lean back against Ada's desk and almost slipped.

"Hey. Um. S–Since we're both off, do you wanna...come back to my place for dinner? I'm gonna be cooking for my mom anyway, and she—she always enjoys your company."

Ada blinked up at him. "Oh, are you sure? I—yeah. That would be nice."

"Okay! Cool!" He winced as his voice audibly cracked, but Ada only smiled before she bent down to grab her bag from under the desk.

"Cool. I can help you cook," she said over her shoulder.

"Uh...that's okay. I'll—I'll cook."

Ada popped up from behind the desk to glare at him in mock offense, placing a hand dramatically over her chest.

"You wound me. C'mon, I'm not that bad."

A grin stretched its way across Ian's face.

"Remember that time in college you nearly burnt down our apartment making a quesadilla?"

Ada held up a finger as she pressed her lips into a thin line.

"That was...once," she muttered. Ian laughed as she circled around the desk to join him.

"Our—our neighbors called the fire department," he added, chuckling at the memory. She rolled her eyes and bumped her hip against his with a smirk. A swarm of butterflies fluttered like a whirlwind in his chest cavity.

"Geez," she responded wryly. "You set one quesadilla on fire and nobody ever lets you forget it."

She was smiling at him now, all gentle and fond, her eyes crinkling at the edges. Ian found himself staring at the light smattering of freckles on her nose that were only visible up close. He could feel his face steadily growing warmer. He stepped forward and held the door open for her so he wouldn't have to keep making eye contact. As she passed, however, she casually snagged his hand in hers, pulling him out into the brightly lit hallway. Ian startled and stumbled after her, his stomach turning somersaults. He glanced around frantically to make sure Edega wasn't lurking around any corners.

"Okay. Let's blow this pop stand," Ada said nonchalantly.

"I—I don't think...I don't think anyone says that anymore," Ian mumbled vacantly. He stared down at their intertwined hands, uncomprehending. Another smile tugged at the corners of Ada's mouth. She laced their fingers together and brushed her thumb over the back of his hand, sending a feeling like an electric shock all the way up his arm and through his chest, straight to the heart.

"Well, I say it."

She tugged him down the hallway in the direction of the front lobby, her hand warm in his. Ian let himself be pulled along in confusion as his insides twisted themselves into knots. They emerged together into the brisk purple dusk outside, where the light was starting to fade over the tops of the buildings.

Ian was trying his best to remember to breathe, drawing air in and letting it out like a normal person would do. Dozens of clamoring thoughts raced through his head, the most prominent of which, flashing in his brain like a neon sign, was WHAT IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW?! Ada was still smiling placidly, though he could swear there was a hint of pink blooming in her cheeks.

She glanced back at him, her face framed by the soft glow of twilight. He took one deep breath, and then another. It didn't help; he still felt a little bit like he was drowning. She chuckled, though not unkindly, and it was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard, which was admittedly what he thought every time she laughed.

"Are you okay?"

"Uh-huh," was all he managed to get out. Ada bit her lip against a wide grin and squeezed his hand, sending a honey-sweet warmth flooding through him that was stronger than the evening chill.

If this was drowning, then maybe he didn't mind.

[plushri-moved]

I was clearing out my youtube history and saved, and found puppet history there. I loved buzzfeed unsolved (and Ryan and Shane by proxy) since I was around 14, which is more than half a decade ago now. I have very fond memories of watching it on call with my an old long distance best friend, who is probably the closet friend I've ever had, and how she would laugh at me because of how scared I was. Later on, I would play the mathorons all the time whenever I needed background noise or some nostalgic comfort, and I followed them to their new channel and loved all their shows. The weekly episodes were my little treat between study for my final exams in school.

Anyway, I haven't interacted with them at all since they did an ad for temu and I don't regret or miss it all. I closed the video and unsubscribed as soon as they sponsorship started. Literally haven't thought of them or any of their shows since. Bye bye.

[iceslumber]

❝ Sooo.. ❞

There's an awkward silence between them, her gaze lingering upon @cogitosm with a small — albeit rather awkward — smile present upon her features. Eyes slowly drift to the left to hopefully break the lingering awkwardness.

❝ What's up with that mask of yours ? Is it some kind of fashion statement ? ❞

An attempt to start a conversation with the Intelligentsia Guild member. That, plus, she really was curious and wondering about it. Maybe it was a fashion statement ? Or maybe it was simply his fashion sense — nothing wrong with that !

[bookishmuggleborn]

hello?🧍🏻‍♀️

[schizowitchic]

i actually cant with this anymore ngl like. messaging my friends isnt an option bc theyre all out busy having actual lives. but i havent left my room all day and i have washing up to do and i have laundry to do but i cant fucking go in the kitchen bc being around my flatmates is so awkward. like. essentially i have zero friends right now because im nowhere near anyone i can speak to. the one person i could maybe consider as actually having made a friend lives on basically the other side of the city. i want to go get food from kitchen so bad but i cant im gonna have to wait until later im not getting the laundry done. cant focus on the assignment. i have no idea how the fuck im meant to remedy this lmaooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

[wriokitty]

Sukuna who was never close to his twin brother and never cared about the pipsqueak runt of a kid who’s his nephew.

He doesn’t care and doesn’t want to be associated with that bullshit. His brother doesn’t take the hint ever and invites him to everything. “My sons’s birthday party” this and “my son’s kindergarten graduation” that. What sort of graduation is meant for a kindergartener anyway? That’s a load of nonsense. But Jin is as annoying as ever with insisting on keeping contact and trying to get Sukuna involved and he hates it until by some tragedy out of nowhere, his brother and sister and law are dead. Yuuji’s left an orphan and no one can care for that kid because there’s no one left.

No one except Sukuna.

They ask him, too. The social workers. They turn to him and say some pitiful script about being “the only family left to take custody of him.” He knows pretty well what’s going to happen to the pipsqueak if he doesn’t agree. The foster care system and the possible horrors such a bright (even if annoying) kid could face makes him question saying no for a second. He’s surprisingly conflicted.

And it’s out of sheer impulsiveness alone does he end up as a single, grumpy, begrudging uncle who’s got custody of a child he never really cared to know in the first place.

And then he meets you.

Sweet, bubbly, warm, and so weirdly happy. Dictionary definition of what an elementary school teacher should be. Yuuji’s absolute favorite person on the planet as he waves hello at you enthusiastically every time that Sukuna drops him off and goodbye every time that Sukuna picks him up.

“I heard his new guardian would be his uncle. It’s nice to meet you,” you murmur to him the first day he picks up Yuuji after school, a look of pure melancholy on your face as you stare at him with an unearthly amount of compassion and sympathy. “Yuuji’s parents were wonderful people. I’m really sorry for your loss.”

“Wasn’t that close with either of them,” he grunts out. You look over at where Yuuji’s gleefully playing on the slide of the playground. Too young and innocent to realize that’s been ripped away from him. Too naive to understand what it means to grieve. Too hopeful about the world around him to realize just how cruel it can really be.

“Oh,” you murmur, nodding slowly.

He thinks that your unnaturally kind demeanor will finally be broken for a split second of judgement. What sort of heartless bastard doesn’t feel an ounce of grief for his own brother’s death? Instead, however, you seem to look at him with some weird sense of wonder.

“You’re a good uncle for stepping up regardless,” you say softly, “it’s more than what most would do in your shoes.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he clicks his teeth, unbearably uncomfortable with how weirdly sentimental this all is. “He’s just a five year old. How much trouble could he be?”

You raise a brow in amusement, eyeing him like he’s got one hell of a surprise waiting for him. He doesn’t like the vague way you hum, “Yeah. How could such a little human cause trouble, right?”

“I’ve got it under control,” he grumbles, a little annoyed that you seem to think that out of all things, a simple child would be enough to cause Sukuna any issues.

“Let me know if you need anything,” you smile.

Yuuji calls to you from the distance, squealing look what I can do! before he does a rather clumsy spin. Sukuna raises an unimpressed brow. You clap and praise him with an exaggerated gasp of approval.

It’s oddly endearing, he thinks to himself—you, not the kid. The kid’s barely tolerable.

“C’mon, you brat,” Sukuna calls. And then he looks at you and gruffly adds, “And I don’t need help.”

“Okay,” you grin brightly. It almost feels like you’re saying that a little sarcastically. “I’m sure you’ve got this parent thing down.”

Before he can even correct you that he’s an uncle, not parent, Yuuji comes running over on clumsy, short little legs and grabs onto Sukuna’s hand.

“C’mon, Uncle ‘Kuna!”

Sukuna doesn’t miss the way your eyes soften. Weirdly enough, he feels this odd sort of squeeze in his chest that doesn’t make any sense. Maybe he’s just getting old—that has to be it.

[sexbot300]

18+, minors dni! (being a slut for nanami bc honestly who isn’t)

authors note: hello! this is my first-ever post, i hope you guys enjoy it! (I literally have no idea how layouts work yet, bear with me)

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚

sugardaddy!nanami who scolds you whenever you feel as if you’re “doing too much,” with all the lavish gifts he gives you. nothing is too much for his angel.

sugardaddy!nanami that asks which jewelry set you like best. emerald or ruby? ah. how about both?

sugardaddy!nanami who you thought would be a joyless, serious man as people portray him. they’re not lying, he really is serious, to people that aren’t you. you’ll witness a soft side of him that only shows the most gentle of smiles.

sugardaddy!nanami who gladly scoops you up bridal style in his arms, walking while you burry your head into his chest.

sugardaddy!nanami who unpacks the gifts he gets you on the countertop after a business trip. “kento, baby, you shouldn’t have.” you play with the polyester ribbon while he simply leans back on the fridge opening up a beverage. “I couldn’t help but have the prettiest woman in the world waiting for me at home. it would be embarrassing of me to show up empty-handed.”

sugardaddy!nanami who for the first few times that you went out with him, meticulously kept track of the things you called “cute” and noted wherever your eyes wandered for a minute too long. the next morning you woke up with everything you ogled your eyes at decorating your room. attached is a note that read, “please forgive me, sweetheart, I didn’t know which you liked best. p.s. my sincerest apologies again, I let my own thoughts get carried away. be good for me and wear this tonight.” your fingers gingerly held onto the note, until your eyes fell on two things you don’t remember looking at when you went out shopping. a beautiful silk gown and an expensive lingerie set.

sugardaddy!nanami who will gladly kneel to strap your heel, placing a kiss on your ankle, after trailing his hand up and down your shin.

sugardaddy!nanami who sends you a monthly allowance for your hair, nails, skincare, and whatever you desire.

sugardaddy!nanami who thinks indulging in materialistic things is futile, but he wants to see you decorated in every fine piece of fabric, clothing, and accessories.

sugardaddy!nanami who acts as if he’s unbothered by you curling up on his lap while he types away on his work computer. you couldn’t even tell how much he adores every second of this as he idly types away. he loves to have you pushed up on him all the time, the minute you slightly move? a strong hand is placed on your thigh or waist to prevent you from leaving.

sugardaddy!nanami who’s only condition is to continue this dynamic until you’re unhappy or want nothing to do with it. (you literally want to marry this man but okay).

sugardaddy!nanami who has a saturday night ritual with you where you buy the most extravagant of desserts and feed it to each other. oh yeah, you have to be sitting on his lap the entire time while you both feed each other from the same fork.

sugardaddy!nanami who places his nose on the nape of your neck while you’re seated on him as he sharply breathes in your scent. “as much as I enjoy eating sweets with you,” he said in a whisper, “they could never mimic your taste.”

sugardaddy!nanami who started off paying your rent, bills, and utilities which he felt mentally, secretly disgruntled by. not because he’s paying (duh) or he has to take care of you, it’s just the fact you haven’t moved in with him yet.

sugardaddy!nanami who considers you under his care and deems your wellbeing as his responsibility. you’re hurt? point to where. your body is sore? lay back down while he massages you. you’re hungry? food is being sent over and here’s money for grocery shopping. you’re upset? he kneels down in front of you as he attentively listens to your sobs.

sugardaddy!nanami who supports your hobbies. he’ll drop off little things that he knows have to do with your interests and only says, “you like this don’t you?” you name drop pilates, cooking, art, knitting, whatever it is, he signs you up for the nearest classes.

sugardaddy!nanami who actually notices if you did something different with your hair, if you wore a new shade of lip gloss. little things.

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sugardaddy!nanami who places the most tender of kisses onto your forehead like he didn’t wreck your shit a second prior. “such a good girl… i’m so so proud. taking my cock in so well.”

sugardaddy!nanami that plays with your body in subtle ways. hands? his big, veiny fingers are stroking yours gently. thighs? constantly getting gripped. your waist? a strong arm wrapped around it. your cheek? a thumb stroking it. shoulders? relieving tension from it. collarbone? rearranging your necklace so it lays properly. guts? fucked out of place. makeup? smeared all across his luxurious bedsheets. lips? blown out from sucking his monster cock and making out.

sugardaddy!nanami who rents out an entire summer beach house with a glorious view of the ocean. partially because he likes the privacy of you two alone, surrounded by nature, and romantic sunset dinners. also because he wants to watch you ride him while he leans back on a beach chair without disturbing the public. (nobody is allowed to see what’s his).

sugardaddy!nanami who actually pounded you into another dimension, your mind still in a haze while he carries you to the running bath. “stay with me princess, i need to clean you up.”

sugardaddy!nanami who makes sure you finish several times before he does. oh poor baby, you’re out of breath? would you like some water? we’re not finished yet. poor nanami didn’t get to cum once, and you so badly want him to use your body to do so.

sugardaddy!nanami who buys you a personal collection of sex toys to play with when he’s not there. he personally studies the way your body twitches and convulses with certain toys, he needs to know how to please his princess. sometimes he chuckles to himself because he knows deep down, nothing– no one, can please you the way he does.

sugardaddy!nanami who sees you stressed or crying over school and work and quickly replaces those tears with ones of joy.

sugardaddy!nanami who will have you folded like a damn lawn chair and only whisper sweet nothings while drilling into you.

sugardaddy!nanami who has a high sex drive but hides it in the beginning like the gentleman he is, making sure you feel comfortable and safe.

sugardaddy!nanami who gives you the car you’ve been wanting forever. you ride the car for a bit with him ecstatic, kissing him over and over, giggling. you both quickly found a new way to celebrate. you’re pinned down over the glove compartment, one large hand gripping both of yours as they’re pinned to your back, and the sounds of skin slapping with your loud moans mix in the air. “ke-n-toooo~ I-I don’t want to ge- uh! It m-messy in h-ere…” “don’t worry darling, I-” a low grunt comes out, “i always cum inside dont I?” he quickens up the pace only to have you screaming like a whore. “t-that’s it. just take it. It feels good, I know,” he mercilessly pounds into you, kissing your temple, “just come undone on me, that’s it. make me proud.”

sugardaddy!nanami who texts you to quickly come to the office and sends you a cab for an urgent “visit.” why? he’s stressed and his favorite method to cool down is your throat expanding around his girthy dick. he'll grip the strands of your hair while cooing at you, "i know angel, i know. but you look so beautiful right now, don't stop."

sugardaddy!nanami who groans from the stressors of his job, turning his attention to you while he pushes himself back on his chair. he looks down on his bulge before sighing and tugging his tie down left and right. “go ahead. come suck me off, i need it and I know you want it too.”

sugardaddy!nanami who does the whole pillow underneath, hand pressed on lower abdomen, with a vibrator wand abusing your clit.

sugardaddy!nanami who has a diet that consists of devouring your pussy on a regular basis. “b-babe… i- ah! s-slow down,” as you elicit a loud dirty moan that fills the room, “pleaaaase.” if only you knew he takes more pleasure out of this than you and you’re the one gripping his hair to the point of leaving his scalp red. he further pushes his nose into you, mumbling, “beg all you want, I’m not done.”

sugardaddy!nanami who is a gentleman, really. who will kill anything within 5 meters if it remotely threatens you. but he can’t help but admire the way your little cunt can’t fully take it the first few times together.

sugardaddy!nanami who never thought much of daddy kinks, but when he hears “daddy” slip out of your precious mouth, his heels dig deeper into the mattress, his massive body weight shifts crushing you, angling his dick in an almost sinful way while pressing you deeper into a mating press. “say it again.”

sugardaddy!nanami who watches you squirm with a vibrator jammed to your clit and his tongue lapping up and down your cunt like any separation from his tongue and your pussy will cause his death. “k-kento s-stop this feeli- ah! I th- oh god! I think I need to pee!” he can’t help but chuckle in his head. his baby never squirted before until now.

sugardaddy!nanami who secretly wants to get you knocked up. man loves fucking his cum into you. he has such a big breeding kink that you catch on.

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[harrysfolklore]

Could you do nailea devora as a face claim? Please and thank you<3

mi bonita - fc43

summary: franco can't stop flirting with a pretty journalist. he has no idea she's lando norris' sister folkie radio: MY FIRST FRANCO FIC!!! that little argentinian man completely charmed me and now i'm obsessed with him. i hope you like this!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by landonorris, lilyzneimer and 178,530 others

ynnorris summer break was nice, now let’s get back to work 😁

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username1 SO PRETTY

username2 whats up with the norris genes

username3 she’s pretty, she has a journalism degree and she’s lando norris’ sister, it girl

iamrebeccad 😍😍😍

olliebearman Miss youuu

↳ ynnorris you’ll see me every weekend next year, formula 1 driver

↳ username1 their friendship >>>>

username4 the superior norris for real

georgerussell63 Ready to be terrorized by you in the media pen for ten more race weekends

↳ ynnorris you love me

↳ username2 HEEEELP 😭

landonorris Let’s gooo

↳ ynnorris no one knows you

↳ username3 best siblings ever

liked by olliebearman, ynnorris and 328,638 others

francolapinto Empieza el sueño 🥺 @williamsracing Can’t wait to bring it to Monza

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username1 VAMOS

username2 okay i like him already

username3 i still miss logan but im so happy for him

williamsracing 💙💙

alex_albon Welcome mate 🙌🙌

username4 HES SO CUTE HELLO

username5 another latino is just what the grid needed

username6 I STAN

username7 most of you are new to the franco colapinto agenda but i’ve been here for a long time y’all are not ready

↳ username1 i can’t wait for people to realize he’s a menace

ynnorris welcome to f1 😁😁 see you at the media pen!

↳ francolapinto That’s what I’m looking forward to the most 😉 see you hermosa

↳ username1 HELP????

↳ username2 WELL THAT ESCALATED QUICKLY

↳ username3 DOES HE KNOW THATS LANDO’S SISTER

↳ username4 oh i can’t wait to see how this unfolds

liked by francolapinto, landonorris and 182,378 others

ynnorris monza time 🇮🇹🇮🇹

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username1 STUNNING

username2 it girl

carmenmmundt Pretty girl ✨✨

username3 this is how you nepotism

username4 drop the skin care routine queen

yukitsunoda0511 You’re the only one allowed to interview me ever

↳ yourinstagram 😭😭 love you

↳ username1 HEELP

username5 oh to be her

username6 lando and yn norris are the moment

francolapinto 😍😍😍😍

francolapinto Can’t wait to meet you bonita

↳ username1 FRANCO 😭😭

↳ username2 seriously does franco know this is lando’s sister

↳ username3 franco is such a menace and his first race hasn’t even happened yet

↳ username4 SOMEONE MEDIA TRAIN THIS MAN

↳ ynnorris 😚

landonorris ????

↳ ynnorris what’s your deal

↳ landonorris I don’t get some of these comments

↳ username1 THEY’RE SO 😭

↳ username2 yn lives to piss lando off

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

[la mas bonita= the prettiest] [no hablo ingles= i don’t speak english] [lo siento mucho = im so sorry]

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by francolapinto, lilyhme and 187,638 others

ynnorris does anybody know a good spanish teacher?

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username1 HEEEELP

username2 IT GIRL FR

alexandrasaintmleux 😍😍😍

username3 she’s going to give lando a heart attack

username4 SHES JUST AS MESSY AS LANDO

redbullracing We see a Redbull 👀

↳ ynnorris omg don’t tell the mclaren admin

username5 @francolapinto go for it dude

maxverstappen1 The drink >>>>

↳ ynnorris don’t let it get to your head

landonorris Carlos and Fernando can teach you no need to look for tEaChErS

↳ username1 HEEEEELPPP

↳ username2 THIS IS SO 😭😭

landonorris or Checo

↳ username1 YOU KNOW ITS BAD WHEN HE SIDES WITH CHECO

ynnorris choosing to ignore my brother thanks !

francolapinto I volunteer 😍😍😍😍

↳ username1 FRANCO 😭

↳ username2 that’s my boy

↳ username3 HE GOT BALLS

francolapinto La mas bonita 😍

↳ ynnorris 😚😚

↳ username1 LANDO IS GOING TO THROW UP

↳ ynnorris i blocked him

liked by ynnorris, alex_albon and 398,736 others

francolapinto Ready for Baku 😉

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username1 BARKING RN

username2 his first f1 points incoming

username3 how is this man so hot

williamsracing 💙💙💙

username4 ready to watch him rizz yn again

↳ username1 i don’t think he’ll do that again lando already called him out 😭

username5 DONT EVER LEAVE THE GRID

olliebearman 🙌

username6 hide from lando

carlossainz55 See you there

↳ username1 HELP IM PRETTY SURE LANDO TYPED THIS

landonorris SEE YOU

↳ username2 HE IS SO ANNOYING 😭😭😭

↳ francolapinto 😅😅😅

ynnorris Bonitooooo

↳ username1 PAUSE

↳ username2 SHES AS MESSY AS HIM

↳ francolapinto My heart just stopped 😍

↳ username3 GET A ROOM

↳ landonorris I think both of you should get different jobs

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[the prettiest interviewer wished me luck so i should do good]

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liked my francolapinto, lilyzneimer and 194,368 others

ynnorris baku ! let’s have some fun 😚

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username1 PRETTY GIRLLLL

username2 she’s wearing blue for williams i don’t make the rules

f1 ❤️

alexandrasaintmleux prettiest ❤️‍🔥

username3 FRANCO COLAPOINTS COME ON

username4 she has the coolest job ever

olliebearman 🙌🙌

username5 notice that lando didn’t like this she fr blocked him 😭

username6 ready to watch franco rizz her left and right again

username7 FRANCO YOU BETTER SCORE POINTS

username8 drop the haircare routine queen

francolapinto 😍😍😍😍

francolapinto La mas bonita

francolapinto This is my new lockscreen

↳ username1 FRANCOOOO

↳ username2 HES SHAMELESS

↳ ynnorris 🥰🥰🥰

carlossainz55 I showed this comment section to Lando

↳ ynnorris and now you’re blocked too!

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francolapinto What a day in Azerbaijan! Huge thanks to the entire team for their incredible work and strategy. This is just the beginning - we're coming for more! 💪

P.S. Special thanks to @/ynnorris for the motivation 😉 and @/landonorris for the... err... brotherly encouragement? 😅 Turns out scoring points is easier than navigating Norris family dynamics

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username1 FRANCO COLAPOINTSSSS

username2 ICONIC

username3 NOT THE NORRIS SHOUTOUT

williamsracing Great day 🙌🙌

username4 NOW HIM AND YN NEED TO GO ON A DATE

alex_albon Let’s gooo 💪

username5 YN NORRIS AND FRANCO COLAPINTO WORLD DOMINATION IDC

username6 if they don’t go on a date istg

username7 THE MAN THAT YOU ARE

username8 franco colapinto let me be your woman

landonorris You’re still on my watch kid

↳ username1 HEEELP

↳ francolapinto 😩😩

ynnorris sooo when are we going on that date?

↳ username1 OMFGGGG YES YES

↳ username2 WE CHEERED

↳ francolapinto I’ll pick you up tomorrow bonita

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ynnorris has added to their stories

francolapinto has added to their stories

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liked by francolapinto, alexandrasaintmleux and 201,378 others

ynnorris he’s a cutieeee what can i say 🤏

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username1 AHHHHH

username2 IT COUPLE ALREADY

username3 lando is not going to like this 😭

lilymhe 🤍🤍

username4 IT HAPPENED

username5 franco is proof that with rizz and a dream you can get anyone

georgerussell63 👀

username6 THIS MENACES TOGETHER IS THE BEST THING EVER

username7 SOMEONE CHECK ON LANDO

carlossainz55 Lando kindly asks that you unblock him

↳ username1 HEEEELP😭

↳ username2 DONT UNBLOCK HIM YN

↳ ynnorris NEVER

francolapinto Mi bonita 😍😍😍

↳ username1 that’s his nickname for her 🥺

↳ username2 LOVE THEM

↳ ynnorris 😚

[seouljazzbar]

GO WITH IT

MARK LEE (이민형)

ABOUT 𓂃 ࣪˖ “have sex with me so I can finish writing this” inspired by this tweet or when mark offers to solve all your problems, it's much better to go with it

WARNING 𓂃 ࣪˖ language, mark is a bit of a slut, 18+ spiderman kiss (you’ll see lmao), allusions to fat cock mark… 😵‍💫, overstimulation, unprotected sex, mark’s name repeated like 78 times (no seriously, it’s up there), reader bent like a pretzel, orgasm denial, this author loves a comma, a pinch of softdom!mark, silly ending

PAIRING 𓂃 ࣪˖ bestfriend!mark x bestfriend!reader

WORD COUNT 𓂃 ࣪˖ 6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE 𓂃 ࣪˖ a little surprise drop for my favorite neo! i guess it's also a wee bit of a belated birthday gift to him :) i skimmed it for typos and stuff but i unfortunately did not edit it the way i should have, sorrryyyyy hope y'all enjoy! omg also reader's room is yu nabi's from the kdrama nevertheless hehehe

Nobody was busier than your best friend, Mark Lee. Between his job, his vibrant social life, and his weekly family dinners, you were lucky to be offered a slot in his schedule. It was always a yes to Mark Lee. Usually.

The last three times Mark had tried to make plans with you were all failed attempts, and the excuses varied each time. There was nothing shameful about the truth, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that your friendship was being thrown to the backburner while you sloppily attempted to get your life together. He knew all about your small business, taking commissions for art prints and ceramics, but he had no idea how much time and effort went into each piece. Besides, knowing Mark he would offer to help, and that wasn’t going to be of service to you in the slightest. 

All you could do was rot in bed, hoping that something would spark your creative mind to no avail. Frustration was starting to take up every corner of your mind— from the nonstop orders that you couldn’t fulfill, to your supplier raising prices, to the fact that you hadn’t had a good date in two years. You were wound too tight to function, and any minute now you were going to start pulling your hair out in chunks.

The sound of the pin-pad at your door let you know that Mark was about to come barreling through. There were so many times that you’d be in strict creation mode, headphones in at full blast while Mark banged at the door pleading for you to answer; when it started to feel like a normal part of your routine, he just requested the code to let himself in. “Yo!”

Except, this time, none of that was necessary. Your headphones were stuffed in their case on the other side of the room, workstation completely untouched with your multiple projects stacked on top of each other. Despite the custom orders piling up over the last two weeks, you hadn’t had the artistic strength to move forward with any of them. The only thing you could do to  buy yourself a little time was to post a message asking for patience and understanding while you navigate some vague emotional hardship. Realistically, though, it would only buy you another week or so before people would start to get angry. 

“Hi.” Perched on a stool near the kitchen island, eyes locked on the cup of coffee you warmed up seventeen minutes ago, you were out of it.

Mark waved a few inches from your face, trying to get your full attention. “Hello? Earth to ___, are you okay?”

You snapped out of it, looking over at your best friend to see that he was dressed for a night on the town. “Sorry, got a lot on my mind right now.”

White, distressed tank top, loose plaid button-up undone, and his sexiest pair of black jeans. The way the meticulous curls fell around his face, looping around his forehead in a way that feigned boylike wonder. He looked oh so delicious, but you would never tell him that— his ego was big enough for the both of you. “Anything I could help with?”

A stifled chuckle barely reached his ears before you cleared your throat, turning toward him with renewed energy. “No, not really.”

Mark put his phone and keys down on the counter, taking a quick intermission to wash his hands before walking back over to you. He’d never been in your apartment in this way before— an unannounced hangout where you’re clearly just a stop along the way, being so underdressed in his presence. He’d seen you in a swimsuit before, but something about a big shirt and underwear felt far more intimate than the two strips of fabric. “This is like the third time you’ve curved me, if you hate me just say that.”

“Oh, you’re so fucking dramatic. I’m just busy.” You shoved at his shoulder, urging him to take a seat so you wouldn’t feel so awkward with him standing over you. He refused cooly, taking a look around your apartment to make sure you hadn’t been aimlessly rotting since the last time he stopped by.

“Even I'm not that busy. What’s going on?”

“I’ve just…” You sighed heavily, a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in. Talking about everything wrong in your life felt far too heavy, too much to divulge to a friend seemingly just doing a wellness check. “I think I’ve bitten off more than I can chew, and I’ve got all these creative blocks that won’t go away and honestly I just need to be fucked like properly fucked to get my juices flowing again but all of the men worth giving it up to are in hiding.”

Mark stood there, mouth agape in disbelief. He did ask, after all. “Woah.”

“Yeah.” It felt embarrassing to hear laid out like that, but there weren’t too many secrets between you and Mark in the first place. Your sex lives weren’t off limits for discussion, and the two of you had plenty of chats that were NSFW in nature. But blurting out how badly  you needed to be railed? That was a new one.

The silence spoke for itself, apparently. You didn’t want to chance a glance up at him, but you knew that you’d have to say something. Maybe something to cover your ass, let him know that you’re well aware how ‘TMI’ that was. Or even—

“I’ll fuck you.”

You nearly choked on air,“What?!” Now you had no choice but to look at him, scanning the twinkle in his eyes in search of sincerity.

“I’m really good, too.” He took a step towards you, eyes never leaving yours as his hands found home in his shirt pockets. This was a side of Mark you rarely got to see— charming, smooth, confident. There were times, namely on nights out, where you’d get a taste of it, watching him chat it up in some dark corner with the prettiest girl you’d ever laid eyes on. But this, being on the receiving end? Watching his eyes drink you in like sweet tea on a balmy Southern summer afternoon? It was enough to make your heart skip several beats. 

“Mark—”

The smile he cracks at you makes you embarrassed for even considering it. “I’m just messing with you, geez,” Heat takes over your face as you try to hide it from him, palms rubbing at your cheeks as your heartbeat tries to find its resting rate. “Although, given that reaction, maybe I shouldn’t be.”

“Shouldn’t be what?”

“Messing with you. Joking, rather. I can definitely mess with you, if you want,” Running so hot and cold in such a short window of time has you shivering under his gaze, scared to make the wrong move and ruin what you’d beg him for. “Hm? Is that what you want?”

The air is thick with anticipation, nothing but the consistent drip from a ceiling leak as the soundtrack to your staring contest with Mark. He was so close to you in all of his Friday night glory, cologne a cloud around you as the heat from his chest permeated your personal space. You were certain that just one taste, just one night in the throes of passion with a curly haired Mark Lee would solve all of your problems. If you closed your eyes, you could picture it— sweaty bodies intertwined amidst the sweltering heat of your studio after dark, the fanning of his breath in your face as he rocks into you, his strong frame caging you into the bed so all you can focus on is Mark, Mark, Mark! His sighs and whines of pleasure flooding your senses so they’re all you can pay attention to, just his voice and his unrelenting pace as he— “___,” The sound of your name on his tongue snapped you out of your lustful haze. “Offer’s about to expire, baby.”

Mark slipped his jacket off without breaking away from you, dropping it carelessly on the floor while your attention wandered to his arms. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing, crossing his arms against his chest as he awaited your answer. “You’re serious? This isn’t some cruel prank where if I say yes, you’ll tell me it was just a joke?”

“That’s not my idea of a prank, princess, where’s the fun in that?” Mark licked his lips, a faint smirk taking over. “Look, if you’re uncomfortable, we can pretend this never happened,” His fingers ghost along the side of your face, sweetly making their way to your lips. “But if it were up to me? I’d have you seven ways to Sunday all over this apartment.”

That was all you needed to lunge into a kiss with him, throwing him slightly off guard as you practically tossed yourself into his arms. But his lips were ready for you, steaming hot and sopping wet— just the way you like it. The smush of your lips together so suddenly garnered the sweetest moan from him, just enough to tease you of what’s to come. His arms wrapped around your torso like a claw machine, pulling you so flush against him as though he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers. 

Your lips were still tingling as he pulled away to lap kisses against your neck, peppering anywhere his lips could reach. “M-Mark, hmngh.”

It was no secret that Mark had a bit of a reputation in the bedroom, but you never thought you’d witness it firsthand. His hands delved blindly to your legs, hoisting you around his waist so he could move you over to your bed. You almost had a mind to remind him of the three big steps up to your bedroom area, but he was far suaver than you gave him credit for— this wasn’t exactly his first rodeo.

He tossed you on the bed, the slight recoil exhilarating before he was all over you again. “If a proper fuck is what you want…” His kisses had shifted to your chest, lips and tongue sucking in the essence of your skin like he couldn’t bear not to. He was almost more excited than you were, his touch reaching anywhere and everywhere all at once, like he couldn’t get enough of exploring everything you had to offer. It was all starting to feel real as Mark made a move to lift up your shirt and the implication of your best friend seeing you naked caught up with you.

“Wait, wait. We’re gonna see each other naked.”

Mark, with the fabric of your shirt caught in his teeth, stared at you blankly. “Yeah…” 

“Shouldn’t that be weird?”

He rolled his eyes playfully, squeezing at your hip with the hand closest to it. “Maybe, but how do you suggest we fuck then? Through my jeans?” He pulled your body swiftly down the mattress so you could feel how hard he was through your panties. 

“Shut the fuck up, oh, my God.”

“I was trying to before you got all weird and jittery,” Mark made a move for your shirt again, and this time you didn’t fight him on it. The balmy air hit your pert nipples the second they were exposed, and Mark couldn’t stop the gruff  noise that formed in his throat. “Just as pretty as I imagined.” You squirmed at the compliment, cheeks heating up at the sight of him drooling over you. “Like that? Hm? Are you my pretty girl?” 

His lips wrapped around the peak of your breast, tongue swirling to the same pattern his thumb and forefinger followed on your other nipple. “Yes!” It was embarrassing, how fast you succumbed to his commands. He struck with confidence, maneuvering his way around your body like he’d done it before. “I’m your pretty girl.”

“So sexy saying that for me, baby,” Your legs part instinctually to make more room for him, and Mark took that as his sign to shift gears. “You know… sometimes, every now and then, I’d think about you. If I needed a little extra push towards ecstasy, you’d pop in my head. Think about the way you’d look if I got my hands on you. How you’d feel, how you’d taste,” His fingers prodded at the growing wet patch on your underwear. “Gonna let me see?”

Your back arched off the mattress, hands pulling him impossibly closer to you. “Mark, please stop asking, just do it.”

“Mm, say ‘please’ again.”

“Mark!”

His laugh would be even sexier if it weren’t at your expense. “Alright, fine.” Your panties stayed on as his tongue lapped at your folds through them, the flimsy cotton doing absolutely nothing to stop him from devouring you. You jerked at the feeling as his tongue licked a bold strip through your folds, your hands entangling themselves in his curly locs. “You’re so wet, holy shit.”

One quick motion moved your panties to the side, puffy wet lips on full display for his greedy eyes. His eyes sparkled at the sight, mouth watering at the mere thought of getting to taste you. “Smell so good, pretty girl.” He was so hungry and you were the only one who could satiate him. His tongue had a mind of its own, pressing flat against your folds without a second thought, “Taste even better.”

Mark’s grip on your thighs held you in place as he licked you clean, running his tongue against every nerve-ending he could feel for. He pulled them apart just enough to spread you out for him, just enough to be on full display for him. Your taste occupied every corner of his mind as he blacked out in pleasure, lapping up every drop your gushing pussy offered up.

He circled your clit until you saw stars, your squirming uncontrollable as his tongue darted inside of you. “You’re so good to me.”

Mark groaned between your thighs, in love with the praise you were showering him with. There was something about how natural and seamless it was for you to compliment him that turned him on even more, if that was possible. “I don't think I'll ever get enough of how you taste, Christ.”

His free hand slithered up your torso, sinking his thumb into your eager mouth while his continued working at your core. He wasn’t shy, either, licking boldly from your ass to your clit while shaking his tongue side to side. Slurping up every drop that dribbled out of your entrance, twisting his tongue as far inside of you as he could reach. You were dripping down his chin by the time he introduced his fingers, prodding at your glistening hole with just one to test the waters. He took the way you gripped onto his hair as his sign that you were more than enjoying it. “F-feels good, oh, God.”

“Mm, don’t be shy.”

Laving at your clit, he drank up the praises the way he was drinking you up. He only pulled away to fully discard your panties, diving back into center with renewed vigor. “Need more.” You didn’t want to push him any closer to you, scared you’d smother him, but he didn’t seem afraid to drown. He’d awoken something desperately greedy inside of you, and you were slipping further into a haze of pleasure with every passing moment. Two fingers pressed their way inside of you, pumping slowly to get you adjusted before the jerk of your hips told him to pick up the pace. You couldn’t hold still with the way he was devouring you, mouth and hands prying you open deliciously all for his enjoyment. He would die between your thighs if you let him, you’re sure of it.

You had to physically pull him off of you to get him to stop, orgasming bubbling inside of you in record time. “Want you inside of me already.” The entirety of the lower half of his face was a sticky mess of your arousal, from his nose to his chin completely covered in you. “Bro, you need to wipe… that.” Times like these, you were glad that you kept tissues on your nightstand.

“You cannot and will not call me ‘bro’ now that I know what you taste like. How insulting.”

It hadn’t dawned on you that Mark was still fully dressed, sans his plaid jacket-shirt that was curled in a sad pile on the floor. “Is that an order?”

He bit at his lip, eyes darkening as he drank in your bare figure sprawled beneath him. Your hands ran themselves up and down his arms, finally getting a chance to admire his body after all the focus was turned to you. Maybe it was the lighting, the way his hair fell over his eyes, or just the fact that he was the best kisser you’d had the pleasure of test driving— but he looked divine. Halo of light circling his head as he fumbled with his belt, biceps flexing as he lifted the tank top off of his lean frame. Suddenly, he wasn’t your friend anymore; he was something new entirely.

You were so lost in your own adoration of him that you hadn’t noticed he was undressed, pulling you directly underneath him as he kissed at your collarbones. “Where’d you go off to, huh?”

“It’s nothing,” you shook your head, snapping back to reality (which was so much better than whatever was going on in your will they-won’t they fantasy). “Thank you, for this.”

Mark didn’t respond with words, instead opting to kiss you softly, tenderly. Slowly, deeply, passionately kissing you as he lowered himself atop of you. He wasn’t in a rush anymore, pulling you into him like you were made of glass, grinding against your center like you had all the time in the world. Everything was so delicate, like he was savoring the moment for years to come. It scared you, if you were being honest. “Mark? You know you can still kiss me while you’re inside of me, yeah?”

He hummed in approval, connecting your mouths again in a slow, languid kiss, tongues slithering into each other's mouths and twisting messily. You could feel him lining up with your entrance, his hand wrapped around his girth to guide himself into you steadily. Chancing a look down, you tried to hide the way your eyes bulged out at the sheer size of him— he would never let you hear the end of it if you fawned over how huge he was. It took all of your willpower to remain still, your body welcomed him as though it had hundreds of times, the shape of him slotting inside of you like he was made to. His fingers tangled in your hair, angling your head so he could travel to your neck, groaning out his praise against your sticky skin. The absence of his lips on yours made you whine, hands wandering the expanse of his back just for confirmation that this was real. “Tell me how it feels.”

You couldn’t. Months of the worst dry spell you’d ever experienced coming to a head with Mark milking you for everything you had couldn’t be described. All you could do was moan, coiling around him even tighter as he started to rock his hips forward as though he was testing the waters. He was the only thing you could focus on— his scent, his taste, they way his nose pressed right against yours, the feeling of his fingers intertwining with yours against the mattress, the dionysian desire his hips were fulfilling. It was all just Mark, Mark, Mark. “Mark!” His teeth couldn’t resist nipping at your lip, pulling on it playfully before letting go to let his tongues soothe the area.

“I can’t help it, you’re so fun to play with.” He kissed you to make up for the quick dot of pain, relishing in the way you immediately kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm.

“I’m, I’m close.”

He spread your legs further apart to give himself more room to buck his hips, pressing at your thighs as he fucked into you faster. “Hold it.”

“Whyyyy?”

“You asked for the Mark Lee experience,” His thrusts grew pointed, almost exaggerated as his hips drove forward with precision, “and I’m gonna give it to you.”

You could feel yourself teetering dangerously close to the edge, stomach coiled tight and lungs working overtime. The mere thought of being denied your orgasm was getting you worked up— you hate not getting your way. Your legs wrapped around Mark’s waist, locking your ankles together for good measure. If he wanted to play games, you were down for it. “Harder.”

But instead of faster, Mark slowed to a complete stop, hands drifting down to your hips to pin them to the mattress. “Oh, baby, do you think I’m stupid?” He chuckled in your face, shaking his head as the laughter subsided. “That’s a sure fire way to get nothing.”

“Wait, no, please! I didn’t mean it.”

The damage had already been done. His patience with you was wearing thin, and he didn’t take kindly to disobedience. “Have you learned your lesson?” Each second that passed stole a piece of your orgasm away with it, that delicious ball of tension and heat simmering down to a cool pit of nothing the longer Mark held your hips down. Your heart stopped fluttering with urgency, slowing to its resting rate as you dealt with the consequences of trying to outsmart your best friend. “Speak up, baby.”

“Yes,” You hissed out, annoyed that your declaration of needing to be fucked was currently going unanswered. Who is he to deny you of the very thing he promised you? “I learned my lesson.”

It was exactly what he wanted to hear, “God, you’re so sexy when you behave yourself.” 

You rolled your eyes, slapping his chest as he pulled away from you entirely. “What happened to ‘having me seven ways to Sunday all over this apartment’?” 

It was Mark’s turn to roll his eyes, fingers running through his hair as he sat back on his heels. “Up against the wall.” You did as he said, spreading your hands against the wall as you felt him behind you, lining himself up with your sodden entrance. The inward arch felt unnatural at first, but you settled into it as you got comfortable in it. “Look up at me.” Mark was towering over you, quite literally. From this angle, all you had to do to see his face was look up and there he was with that devilish smile. His cock pressed into you as you watched him, the sheer thickness splitting you clean open for him, sucking him in like your pussy had been waiting for him. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Maybe it was the taboo of sleeping with a friend, but your body was on fire. You felt your entire body heating up at the sudden change in his demeanor, switching your flirty best friend to a man absolutely starved. With your eyes screwed shut, you reached a hand out to hold onto his arm, fingers giving it a squeeze, head bumping the bare skin of his chest.

“Fuck.”

You were even wetter than you were while he had you pinned to the mattress, the feeling of being filled by him more electrifying after a brief intermission. He was all over you again and that was all that mattered, walls tightening around him with a vice-like grip that had both of you gasping for air.

“Shit,” he hiss, already lost in the sensation, “so good to me, ___, so fucking good.” He emphasized the last syllable with a gentle thrust that had your nails scratching at the wall. Your orgasm was building back up faster than you would’ve liked it to, considering you knew Mark wouldn’t let you cum so soon after denying you.

It hit you deeply, in all the right places at the right angle. Mark was that good from the start, and you couldn’t believe you’d been missing out on it. If you knew he was this goof, you would’ve ruined the friendship ages ago. “So fucking deep, Mark, keep going like that,” you moaned, just as caught up as he was.

He captured your lips in a searing kiss, fucking into you with much more vigor than before, gripping your ass with such force you half expected to see the dents after. You moaned all you had to say, all you had to feel into each other’s mouths. When his velvety tongue enveloped yours you could almost taste the remnants of your arousal and the chocolate muffin he ate right in between sweeping and mopping. The water was still running, hitting part of his back and your leg.

You couldn’t pull away from him even if you tried— he was a part of you now, molded into each other’s bodies until you became one. “Wanna keep fucking you forever,” he groaned, pouring his all into every touch. “Keep you on me forever.”

It threw you for a loop. Keep you forever? Mark was a lot more emotional than he let on, sure, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he meant it in ways other than platonic. You couldn’t even stop him to ask what he meant by that because he was so deep in your guts that you were starting to feel him in your throat. 

“Don’t stop,” you cried out, biting your lip when he hit a certain spot inside you and kept hitting it over and over again— the taste of blood didn’t stop you. “Don’tstopdon’tsopdon’tstop-”  

“Fuck,” he whisper, voice strained and raspy, smacking at your ass before gripping it and bringing you down to meet his increasingly harsh thrusts, the slap echoing throughout your studio apartment. “Wanna fuck you forever, baby.” One hand kept its vice grip on your hip while the other grasped at your neck, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. “Gimme a kiss, pretty girl.” Your lips found his despite the blurring of your vision, a supple lock as he steadied rocking into your core. Kissing him upside down felt worlds away from the first kiss you shared with him, and yet you still couldn’t get enough of it. The hand on your hip slithered up to cup your breast, rolling your nipple as he pulled away from the kiss. “So obedient.”

All the shame had disappeared from your body, the satisfaction of finally being fucked numbing you to his quips completely. His name was on the tip of your tongue, begging to be set free, but the way his hips ricocheted off your ass made you short circuit. Your skin was hot to the touch, goosebumps littering the expanse of your body as your toes curled around the fabric of your duvet. 

“Who knew you were such a dirty girl, hm?” Mark tutted. You hold back your moans, reveling in the sensation of his tip sliding up and down you dripping folds. Interrupting his own rhythm just to get a rise out of you, giving you no warning before shoving himself right back in. 

“Bet this was your plan all along,” You ignore the fact that he technically initiated all of this, too blissed out to snap back at him cheekily. “Dripping all over my cock, fuck.” He’s thinking out loud, eyes locked at the way your pussy invites him in, grip unrelenting with each thrust. He drew his hips back again to repeat the same unforgiving tempo, laughing to himself at the way your thighs shake in anticipation.

“Wanted this for so long.” You whine, bashful about the confession rolling off your tongue so easily. Mark had always occupied a special part of your mind, but the barrier of your friendship with him always kept you from thinking of him in that way for too long. He’s hot, sure, and one of the most genuine guys you’d ever met— but risking that by dating him felt too stupid to risk.

Mark didn’t keep you waiting for too long, filling you to the brim with one stroke that had your toes curling. You gasp, a shiver running up your spine as he adopts a frenzied pace that nearly knocks you into the wall in front of you. “You’re so fucking warm.”  He can’t help but moan out at the feeling, clutching onto your hips as he pistons in and out of you. Blunt fingers digging into your skin as you let your body fall forward. You felt so full.

“Mark, fuck.” you whine, probably a tad too loud considering how thin the walls feel at night but you couldn’t help it, with the way he held onto you and fucked you like he had never had good pussy in his life. “Faster.”

“Where’d your manners go? Say ‘please’.” He teased, testing your obedience despite knowing you’d obey him. There was just something about knowing he held your pleasure in the palm of his hands, knowing that you’d do anything he asked of you. 

“Please, please, please Mark, need you so bad.” It sounded  pathetic, and it only makes Markn screw his eyes shut as he fucks you harder. All control lost as he watches the drool drip from your mouth down the wall— he was really fucking your brains out.

Mark's rough groans were slowly morphing  into needy moans, the sound causing even more slick to build up between your legs. “Taking my cock like such a good girl.” And you really were, considering you had nothing but the wall to grip onto, you let your body go wherever Mark led it. Each thrust sending you closer and closer to your climax, his dick hitting every single spot that you’re sure you’d see stars.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck.”

“You’re gonna cum? Mm, you can cum. Cum all over my dick, lemme see that pretty face.” You arched inward one last time for him, looking up at the man sending you to heaven and back on a loop. “There you go. Good fucking girl.” Mark smacked your ass sharply, holding onto your ass as he switched his rhythm to harsh, precise thrusts that were sure to throw you over the edge of pleasure. He kissed your forehead as the growing tension in the pit of your stomach snapped, your walls contracting around him in a tight frenzy that nearly triggered his own. He didn’t slow down, though. The clutching of pussy did absolutely nothing to deter him from fucking you with the same rigor, hips just as quick as they were before he finally let you cum.

“M-Mark, I don’...” The aftershocks of ecstasy silenced you in your tracks, the sparks of pleasure like electricity through your bloodstream. “Don’t stop.”

He laughed at the change of your tune, thumb flitting down to flick at your clit. “Baby needs more? Haven’t had enough yet?”

Even with him poking fun at your desperation, you were too drunk on his cock to care. All you could manage was a chorus of fuck me, fuck me, fuck me as Mark held you flush against him. “God, yes, fill me up like that.” Your arousal was dripping all over the inside of your thighs, the sticky slick glistening under the moonlight that peaked through your curtains. 

“That’s right, I’m not fucking done with you yet, pretty girl.” This side of him was lethal. He was insatiable, obsessed with the way your body responded to him, greedy for the way you bent to his every whim. It was such a change of pace from the way he was kissing you in missionary, the way he treated you like a doll that he was afraid of hurting you. “Feel good?”

He was mocking you— of course, it was good. You didn’t have to tell him that for him to know; but feeding his ego was so addictive. The way he’d reward you for praising him was enough for you to fall for the trap every single time. “So, good, Mark, hngh.”

The smack of his hips against your ass bounced off the walls, echoing the depravity that you and Mark were oh so good at acting on. All of your senses on overdrive, the overstimulation pulling at you from every end, you weren’t sure if you could take it all for much longer. Drool slipped from your mouth onto Mark’s arm, the edges of your vision blurring as you could feel yourself bubbling over. “Gonna cum again?”

“‘m gonna cum again.”

He was drunk with the power of controlling you. “Hold it.”

“Mark, I can’t.” You were surprised you were even able to do it the first two times he commanded it, not used to having gratification delayed against your wishes.

“Gonna fill you up and then you can cum.” It only took a few more targeted thrusts before he was spilling his seed into you, an endless leak of evidence of what took place over the last hour or so. Even as his cock began to soften, he made sure to fuck you through it, massaging tight circles into your clit until your legs spasmed. The air was snatched from your lungs, eyes flittering shut in sweet relief. It was only two orgasms, but the build up had really taken it out of you. Mark flipped you over gently on your back, brushing the hair out of your face as you sleepily opened your eyes.

“Look at that. Take a look at the mess we made, baby.” 

He gestured between your legs, a slippery canvas of cum smeared across your most intimate parts. “So much…” You couldn’t stop yourself from gathering some on your fingers, popping them into your mouth for a taste of the two of you mixed together.

Your brain was on fire, neurons alight with the molten sensation that was Mark Lee. Even though you took him up on the offer, you weren’t expecting him to completely change your world. A solid orgasm and a pat of the back, maybe. But now you were afraid that he was your new addiction that you’d never be able to feed. 

You woke up in a fresh sleep shirt to the smell of toasted bagels and coffee. Mark balanced the plates and mugs the best he could as he tackled the steps leading up to your bedroom area. “Mornin’ sleepyhead.”

“What time is it?”

He shoved a mug of steaming coffee into your hands, kissing you on the forehead. “Don’t worry about that. You were exhausted, wanted to let you sleep.”

“Thank you.” The coffee was exactly to your liking, just what you needed after a night of fucking like rabbits. “So, should we talk about… it?”

Blush rose to his cheeks and there was no hiding it, his hair pulled back into a messy bun so his face was on full display. “I mean, only if you want to? I’m okay with proceeding however you want to.”

“You’d be fine staying friends? Never talking about it? Pretending that nothing’s changed?”

He shrugged, “if that’s what you wanted, then yeah.” His attention shifted to his breakfast, eyes zeroed in on his eggs and toast like it was a gourmet meal. “Just don’t wanna make you feel weird about it, you know?”

“Mark?” You placed your coffee and plate down on your bedside table, turning your full attention to him as he continued to avoid your gaze. “What did you mean by all the ‘keep you forever’ stuff then?”

He rushed to try to explain himself, scrambling his words into a whole lot of nothing. “It’s not, like, a big deal or anything. I just get possessive… in bed, sometimes. I’m not a weirdo or anything, I promise.”

None of that mattered to you anyway, your dreams of Mark that clouded your head all night giving you the push you needed to throw caution to the wind. Would it be the worst thing in the world to risk it all with him? One kiss, chaste and sweet, was enough to shut him up for just a moment. “So if I said we should try exploring further, maybe go on a date or something, you’d say yes?”

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline, mouth falling agape as he searched your face for any signs that you were being facetious. “Y-yeah, yes. If that’s what you want.” He was so bad with his feelings, sometimes— but you were more than willing to be patient.

“Well, good, because that’s what I want.”

[mallowsweetmiri]

Bestfriend!Fred with no boundaries teaches you how to have sex

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

You weren't sure what had made you so insecure recently. Maybe it was the fact that you were the only virgin in your dorm now that Katie had gotten with Oliver. Or maybe it was the fact that you'd been too scared to do anything more than snog someone at a party. Either way, you were feeling the pressure to experience what the rest of your peers were currently indulging in. The only issue was that you were too scared to make a move on anyone due to your lack of experience, so really the whole situation was an unfortunate cycle of anxiety and naivety that kept you a virgin mary. And that's how you found yourself approaching your best friend Fred in the common room.

"Hi," you said meekly, dropping onto the couch next to him. He shut his book and slung his arm over the couch.

"Hello, darling," he purred, reaching his hand over to play with your hair. You sighed and pouted, earning a chuckle from the redhead. "What's bothering you, love." He knew right away that something was off. Of course he did.

"Well," you cleared your throat, "I was hoping you could help me with... a favor." You grinned shyly at him.

"Well," he drawled, offering you a teasing smile, "Tell me what I can do for you." You groaned as your head rolled onto the back of the couch. You were already regretting coming over here.

"I- ugh this is humiliating," you groaned and covered your face. You could hear him chuckle under his breath. "Stop laughing at me." You snapped, giving him an angry glare which only made him smile wider.

"I'm not laughing at you, Y/N," he said sincerely, putting his hands up in defense, "spit it out already."

"Okay, okay," you breathed, "so you know how I... well how I've never... done more than... y'know." You huffed trying to get him to understand without actually saying it out loud.

"How you're a complete and total virgin?" He smirked, earning a smack from you.

"Fred!" you scolded. He laughed and it almost broke through your utter embarrassment. "But, yes. How I'm a complete and total virgin." You covered your face with your hands again. You could hear him chuckle as he attempted to pry your fingers off your face.

"Love, you know I'm not judging you," he said, pulling your hands down. You let his hand rub gently across your cheek, and your body relaxed. He would never judge you, and that's exactly why you were here. "So what's up?" "Okay, well I want to.. y'know," you rolled your eyes causing him to laugh, "But I have absolutely no clue what I'm doing... and I need help." You huffed and looked up at Fred to gage his reaction. That smirk was still plastered on face but was now accompanied by a raised brow. "Oh? And so you want me to..." He dragged on, teasing you. You groaned again. He loved teasing you, and watching the blush spread across your cheeks only provoked him more.

"I want you to... teach me." You looked up at him through your lashes, hoping that he wouldn't reject you.

"I can teach you, darling," he purred, "what are best friends for?" You bit your lip, nervous and excited that he had actually agreed to this. It was weird, knowing the two of you were about to cross a line. At the same time though, you were closer to him than anyone else. This wouldn't change anything, you were sure of it.

"Okay," you breathed, "so what do I do first?" He chuckled and looked around the room. It wasn't too busy, most everyone either at dinner or studying for exams. George and Lee sat in the corner playing cards loudly.

"Well, we can't do anything here," he hummed, standing up. You looked up at him with your brows furrowed. "Come up with me?" He stuck his hand out for you. You hesitantly nodded and took his hand. As he led you up the winding stairs towards his dorm, you were suddenly overly aware. You could feel the nerves begin to course through your body the way they always did when a boy was leading you somewhere private. Fred seemed to sense this as he shut the door to his room behind you.

"You know we'll stop whenever you want to love," he hummed, stroking his thumb across yours. You nodded, the words stuck in your throat. "Are you nervous?" You nodded again, letting a chuckle fall through your lips.

"I- I'm nervous. That's why I've never done anything before," you admitted, the blush on your face burning even more as Fred stepped forward took your face into his hand.

"Just tell me if you don't like it, okay?" Fred asked, waiting for your consent.

"Okay," you whispered, nodded slightly as you looked up at him. You watched him wet his lips with his tongue.

"Can I kiss you?" He breathed. You nodded again and held your breath as he bent down to close the space between you. A involuntary gasp left your lips when he kissed you gently, his hand finding the small of your back. You tentatively kissed him back, melting into him as his thumb swiped against your cheek in the way it had so many times before. Except it was different this time. You were kissing your best friend and he was walking you back towards the bed. You gasped when your legs hit the edge, and Fred chuckled into your lips.

"I'm assuming you've gotten this far before?" He asked, pressing his forehead against yours. He was breathing heavy from your kiss, and it was certainly a sight to see, his lips red and slick.

"Mhmm," you nodded. Although, you weren't sure if anyone had kissed you like this before.

"Good," he breathed, "I'm going to lay you on the bed now, okay?" You nodded eagerly, earning a slight chuckle from Fred. Your incoming blush was hidden when he came forward once again to take you into a kiss. This time it was deeper, and wetter. His hands found their way under you as he pushed you back onto the bed. You let out a noise as your head hit the pillow and he fell over you, connecting your lips again. He could feel your hesitancy in your actions as he kissed you, your hands staying by your sides.

"You can touch me," he smiled, taking your hand and putting it on his chest. You sucked in a breath.

"O-Okay," you fluttered, hesitantly running your finger over his collar bones.

"Good girl," he whispered as he came to kiss you for the third time. Your eyes reflexively rolled back into your head, a wave of something washing through your body. You had almost forgotten about the nerves, your body overwhelmed with feeling as your best friends hands explored down the sides of your body. His knee separated your legs in a way that almost bothered you, and that feeling was exacerbated as his thumb swiped across the front of your hip. You whined into the kiss to your complete embarrassment. Fred hummed to this.

"Did that feel good?" He asked, peppering a kiss on your jaw. You grasped his shirt collar.

"Yes? I think so," you quavered as he hummed into your neck.

"It's supposed to feel good, love. You don't have the be embarrassed," you could feel his smile against your skin, making you squirm with fluster. His hand slid up your leg to the edge of your leg.

"Do you like this?"

You nodded fervently.

"Use your words."

"Yes," you breathed out as his hand slid under your back, "I like it." It seemed that was all it took for Fred to start absolutely devouring you. You had certainly never been kissed like this before, and you wondered if everyone kissed like this or if it was just Freddie. He grunted into the kiss as he lifted your leg up slightly, pressing his hips into yours. This made you moan into his mouth, and you instantly cringed at the sound of yourself. He chuckled into the kiss and pressed his thumb back over your hip.

"Love, it's okay to make noise. In fact, I hope you'll be doing a lot more of that with this next bit," Fred reassured you, going back to peppering kisses on your neck. Were you the only one getting a bit carried away here?

"W-what's next?" you groaned in delight and his lips sucked in a nice spot.

"Have you ever been touched before?" He pulled back to look at your face.

"No," you muttered with a small shake of your head.

"Have you ever touched yourself before, darling?" He asked gently, his thumb continuing to swipe across your hip. You nodded and blushed crimson.

"Y-yes, but I've never," you shook your head.

"Do you want me to make you cum?" He asked so casually, as if this didn't make the heat rush down from your cheeks to your stomach. You weren't sure what you were expecting when Fred had agreed to teach you some new things, but you supposed this was a good start.

"Yes, please," you whispered. Fred smiled at your response, you had always been the polite type. He pushed himself off of you and began unbuttoning his shirt, towering over you as you laid sprawled on the bed. Your eyes caught on his large, freckled chest before you reckoned you should probably be doing the same. You stayed on your back as you began to clumsily unbutton your top. Your eyes stayed on Fred's fingers, his smirked dancing in the edges of your vision. You'd seen Fred shirtless countless times, but never from this angle. The way his fingers moved down his abdomen and closer to his... you were losing focus. He stripped his shirt off before coming over you to help you with yours. As he undid the last button, his eyes dropped to your breasts. His hand reach out gently to caress your waist as he lowered himself over you.

"Just tell me if you want me to stop, okay?" He breathed, waiting for your consent.

"Okay," You whispered, this time coming up yourself to initiate the kiss. You had never felt this want before building inside of you, wishing that his body would press into your own. His hands explored your body, touching new places and waiting for you to sigh in approval. First they crept up the sides of your waist, then under your breasts to cup and squeeze them, which you found out you liked. You made an embarrassing squeal as he lightly rolled your nipple, which only made him do it again. His hand then traced its way down your stomach and over the front of your skirt. He pulled away for a second which made you whine and nod your head. Fred chuckled lowly as he dropped his hand down even lower, until the tips of his fingers grazed the front of your panties. It already felt better than anytime you'd touched yourself. You felt like you were going to explode when he rubbed down the front of you with his palm. You moaned into the kiss, unable to restrain yourself from bucking your hips up. You could feel yourself start to gush as his hand ghosted over your wet panties. "Next step, princess," He said, pushing your panties to the side as he searched your face for any hesitancy. At this point, your body felt as though it needed him to touch you or you would die.

"Please, Freddie," you pleaded, your hands clenching the sheets beside you. He smiled slyly in satisfaction.

"You're so well behaved, Y/N," he praised teasingly, his finger running down your slit, "such a good student." You groaned at his teasing words as his fingers ran over your clit, a shock of pleasure rushing through your body. Your hands came up to grasp his arms as his fingers moved over your clit, again and again. His eyes stayed on your face, watching as each wave of pleasure washed over you. Your stomach was beginning to knot when he dipped his finger into your entrance, moving slowly and asking for permission.

“I’ve never done that before,” your voice came out in a whine as his fingers came back up to make circles over your clit. He let out a low chuckle that sounded more like a groan.

“Do you want me to show you what it feels like?” He asked, his supporting hand grabbing the back of your neck as he ran a long swipe over your slit, making your whole body shiver. You supposed you should be embarrassed, making these faces and noises in front of your best friend. But it felt too good to care and all you wanted was to feel his fingers inside of you.

“Y-yes, show me,” you stuttered coming up to kiss Fred again, needing more of him. He breathed into the kiss as his finger grazed over your clit and down to your entrance, pushing into you ever so slightly. You were so tight, and the fact that you’d never been touched here before made Fred pant at the thought.

“Just relax, darling.” He cooed, rubbing his thumb over the back of your neck that he still held tightly in his hand. “You’re doing such a good job.” He thrust his finger in slowly, causing you to clench around him. It felt good, unfamiliar, but good. As his finger moved in then out again, you were starting to realize why everyone was so obsessed with sex. The sight of Fred panting over you didn’t hurt either.

“Fred, I- I think,” was all you could manage before you felt the knot in your stomach suddenly pulsate. A loud whine left your lips as his thumb swiped over your clit another time, sending you over the edge.

“That’s it, cum for me Y/N,” Fred encouraged, holding your head as your back arched off the bed. Unwillingly, your body writhed with pleasure as waves of your orgasm rocked through your core. Fred’s fingers begin to slow down as he kissed in the crooked of your neck, you hips slowly rocking against his hand and the last bits of pleasure drained out from you. He gave you one last kiss before pulling his finger out of you, leaving you with an empty feeling. All you could do was pant as you laid there frozen with pleasure, red and sweaty from the experience. Fred smiled down at you cheekily as he wiped your damp hair out of your face.

“How do you feel, love?” He asked, continuing to brush down your messy hair with his hands. He knows how much you hate looking disorderly, but he had to admit, you looked damn good in this position.

“I mean, that was really good,” you chuckled, covering your face with your hands again and closing your legs up. Fred chuckled and fell beside you, starting to button up your top.

“Well that’s only the first part of your lessons, but I think that’s enough for today,” he hummed, leaning over to kiss your head as he finished the last button. You groaned and rolled over to face him. You couldn’t help but stare down his body, noticing his length bulging through his khakis.

“Aren’t I supposed to do something back?” You bit your lip, running your finger down his chest. Fred stopped your hand as you reached his waistline.

“You’re not supposed to do anything, Y/N,” Fred chimed, “but if you want to learn, I can teach you that, too.” He sent you a wink and a laugh as your cheeks blushed crimson again. You rolled onto your back and let out a chuckle.

“How much more is there to learn?” You thought aloud, still in a dream state from your first orgasm.

“Well on a scale of sex god to complete and total virgin, I’d say you’re still on the latter side of the spectrum,” Fred joked, earning another slap from you.

“Oh, shut up. Just help me learn, okay?” You asked sheepishly. Fred chuckled again and smoothed down your skirt.

“That can be arranged.”

[tteokdoroki]

˗ˏˋ 💎  JJK MEN AS OVERPROTECTIVE GIRL DADS gojo, sukuna & geto .ᐟ

⋆˙ ᯓ★  about ! “a little girl’s first love will always be her father." three scenarios in which the daughters of three jjk men introduce their boyfriends to their fathers. ( 5.7K )

warnings ! minors blank and ageless blogs do not interact. video banner. not beta read. sfw, fluff, angst if you squint, no-curses!au, mentions of pregnancy, children and babies, the children have no names, some family issues, married life, domestic bliss, husband + father!jjk men, mother + fem!reader.

sonic says ! hello everyone !! i wanted to try my hand at some head canons and scenarios, i couldn’t get this idea out of my head so put a pause on working on kinktober to write it lol!! hope you enjoy <3 - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ 

ᯓ★ SATORU GOJO:

before meeting you, satoru gojo had never been fond of a family dinner. 

in his childhood home — they were cold and quiet, pockets of clattering cutlery would cut through painstaking silence and distract from the loud emptiness of the seat at the head of the table where his own father was supposed to be. his mother, often solemn and sunken in the shoulders, never spoke. never cooked and slipped small bites to her son in between preparation or steps.

they had staff for that, they had staff for everything.

to keep the household clean and together. to keep him fed and breathing. to keep him alive. all requirements felt almost clinical, the environment in which he was raised almost like the white walls of a hospital — without a trace of love needed for a child like satoru gojo needed to thrive. 

even if he had all the money in the world, he hadn’t a drop of love. he wasn’t ever sure if he was capable of the warm and fuzzy emotion, didn’t know if it was something his heart could ever open up to — sealed in by layers of cool, cold concrete and cement. kept in a safe without a key. at least until you miraculously found it and melted the thick layers of ice blocking satoru’s veins. you brought back colour to his cheeks and light to his eyes, taking up the space in his heart where his family had left a swirling, black void. 

to satoru, you were a saving grace. his everything… and he swore he’d never be like his father; who left his wife unhappy and empty, like a abandoned shell. he promised; he’d do much better than his parents ever did. especially when you found out you were pregnant, even more so when your little girl came into the world with plentiful white curls and lashes, screaming at the top of her teeny tiny lungs. 

at the time, you were sure you’d never seen satoru gojo so in love ( and so teary eyed too ) — but you knew what becoming a parent meant to him. what it meant for the new life you now shared.

but now, having met you and married you and created life with you — satoru had found a new appreciation for family dinners. they were a sacred event, a special time for him to keep up with the lives of his children and let them know he was there. present. 

it wasn’t a time to be imposed on and certainly not by meddlesome boyfriends brought home by sixteen year old daughters.

“so kid, what’s your 401K look like?” 

satoru carries a look of disdain, his nostrils flared, blue eyes narrowed and perfect pink lips curled in an unhappy frown. 

the young boy opposite him, a little scrawny and awkward, shrinks underneath the white haired man’s intense gaze — if you squinted, you could probably see him shaking like a little leaf in the intense wind from across the table “um… i don’t know?”

“hear that little guy? no 401K… how’s he meant to take care of your sister. yeah, yeah.

you’re right, i’ll give him a chance,” he mutters to the baby boy snoozing happily in his arms under his breath, engaging in a one sided conversation before switching his focus back to his daughter’s…sorry excuse for a partner. “okay then… finances, clearly not. academics and common sense —“ pausing,  the white haired father of two clicks his tongue, pushing it into the soft flesh on the inside of his cheek as if to feel his next words out in his mouth. “do you even know what a bouquet of flowers is, kid? a corsage? gojo women don’t play about their flowers, yanno.” 

“sir—“

without giving the boy a chance to speak, gojo drops his intrusive gaze under the table and back up again — pointing an accusatory finger at his little girl’s partner. “your top button’s undone and your shoe laces are untied. you might wanna fix that! if you care about my daughter’s safety!” he turns his nose up all petulant like a picky toddler being forced to eat his veggies, he even sticks his tongue out for good measure. gojo’s eccentric movements nearly jostle his sleepy son in place. the baby whines and gurgles a little bit, only soothed by a pat to his back from dad — who repositions him to snooze over his shoulder.

in a silent, quieter gesture, satoru uses two fingers to point between his eyes and the boy’s. almost as if to say ‘i’m watching you.’

catching him in the act, the eldest gojo daughter bounces into the room carrying plates of steaming hot food, exhaling with worm down patience evident in her body language. “daddy please, you don’t act like this normally. stop messing around.” rolling her eyes, she sets the dishes down, freeing up her hand to smack the back of her dad’s clearly empty skull. just like her mother.

“well sooooorrry for being a good dad and caring about your wellbeing! who you’re dating! who you’re bringing into our bloodline!” gojo rebuttals with petish grunts, unable to cradle the back of his injured head like he does with his son.  

and as if by magic, you, his beautiful and loving and gorgeous wife appear with dinner plates in hand to double down on a scolding the white haired man. amused, you also swat at your husband’s head and tut down at him. “satoru? what are you doing?” there’s something about the way you tease and tell gojo off that always makes his heart race, even after all these years of marriage and raising his kids. he loves you, his family so much. he almost keens into your touch like a pathetic dog, until your daughter starts gagging at the sight — slipping into her set. you were supposed to be watching the baby. not interrogating the poor kid.” 

“we’re having a heart to heart, babe,” gojo swoons, clearing his throat as his head bobs in the direction of his daughter’s boyfriend. “jimbob here was just telling me about his 3.4% grade point average.”

“it’s hiro sir! and uh… 3.5% sir.” the boyfriend in question chirps shyly.

you know that your husband feels… almost threatened by another man entering your daughter’s life — they’ve been practically inseparable since the moment she first opened her eyes. to give up the duty of loving and protecting her and pass it onto someone else is probably what scares him the most. “that’s pretty good hun!” you comment absentmindedly, hoping to pull satoru away from the conversation.

“no it’s not! our daughter has a 4.0%.”

“s-she was failing in math, i was tutoring her.” the boyfriend hopefully interjects again, whispering next when the baby stirs at the dining table. “i hope that makes up for my 401K sir. i-i also work part time to save for college and—!” 

“haha — no i wasn’t!” the younger gojo girl tenses in place, elbowing her date in the ribs not so discretely from under the table. it’s this interaction that makes her father smile, only briefly, before you scowl his way.

“i thought you told them we met at a tutoring session.” 

“you were failing?” you raise a brow, taking your own seat beside her father. 

“see! this boy failure is a bad influence on our daughter!” a glare settles on the slopes of satoru’s angelic features, mirrored by your child’s unimpressed expression across the table. in his arms, your youngest fusses about as if he senses the mounting tension at the table — earning a bounce or two from daddy, who turns your way all matter-of-factly like. “see, this why he doesn’t have a 401K”

“why would a teenager have a 401k, satoru!” comes your exasperated sigh.

“i had one when i was his age.” satoru shoots back and the kid sinks nervously in his seat. the poor boy looks as though he wants to disappear, squirming in place like he’s no better than a worm on a bait hook — it’s torture being interrogated and inspected by someone so close to the person you love most, but even he knows how important satoru’s approval is to your daughter.

she wouldn’t say it now, not when she was all grown up and finding her way out in the world — but she idolised gojo, all of her fondest memories are painted in his colours. shades of sapphire and azure like his vivid eyes, snowy white from his hair that almost rivals the clouds in the sky — the backdrop to days spent riding her father’s shoulders through the big wide world, racing down grassy green hills and wasting the hours away. she wouldn’t admit it here, today, but she never wanted to leave those memories. leave her father behind in her youth — it was written on each dip and curve and highlight on her youthful face, she wanted her father to move into this next phase of life with her too.

“daddy, you were a trust fund baby with shit grades and no prospects until you met mum,” she huffs but her words hold no malice, even if the sass brims over the edge of her tone like an emotionally charged, overflowing glass of water. you’d chide her for cursing — but you know she means well, stubbornly expressing her desire for approval to her man child of a father. “a loser, if you will.” 

gojo slumps, the rosey petals of his plump lips pushing into an age old pout. “how could you say that about dear old dad?” he whines, as though he’s a wounded animal. 

“well she’s not wrong, baby. you were a loser satoru, you still are.” the words are fond and light hearted on your tongue, a similar state to the wisps of a smile that trace over your own lips. leaning in close, you tickle the nose of the gurgling baby boy in his arms, heart heavy with affection — grateful that the one interaction you had with your husband all those years ago ( when he was a scrapier and misunderstood ) led you both to the beautiful chaotic family you have together now. “a hot one at least.” 

“gross.” your daughter groans and buries her embarrassed gaze in the spread of food on the neatly laid table — grabbing a plate and piling it high to cope.

her boyfriend chuckles nervously, wanting nothing more but to eat and do the same. desperate to hide from gojo’s intimidating aura, but too afraid to cross another one of his ridiculous invisible lines. “i think that’s very sweet mrs gojo!”

the brief moment of peace in the war of dad v boyfriend is then interrupted by the white haired man’s temper tantrum, realising that his only daughter is still in the room. “don’t push it kid.” the father of your children all but wails and finds something else about the young couple to pick apart. “you’re sitting too close together! move apart!” 

“daddy—!”

“w-what?”

“i said move it or lose it kid, before i keel over and die of heartbreak.” “betrayal. my own daughter, leaving me for someone else.” 

the two separate, shifting their chairs away from one another despite never actually being too close. you share an empathetic look with your eldest, empathetic to your husband’s actions. you both knew he wouldn’t handle the meeting well, but this was beyond your whilst dreams. the young couple’s hands remain intertwined under the table cloth as the meal begins properly, and when satoru notices, he doesn’t comment — biting down hard on his unhappy tongue. he knows all too well what it’s like to love against the odds, his father in law hardly wanted him around you. it’s not like he wasn’t aware how bad he was for you, how your standards might have even dropped for the man to be with him. but you loved satoru with your entire being, wholly and against all of your own parent’s wishes. 

in a way, the dinner tonight reminds him of himself meeting your father for the first time — how he had to work for his approval too. prove that he was more than just a spoilt brat. too caught up in the memories, the odd sense of loss threaded between his every breath and the love he holds for his daughter settled in his lungs — gojo almost kissed the way you whisper to him adoringly, head drooping to rest on his shoulder mostly to look at your baby but partly to comfort him. “you’re being dramatic satoru. look at them, don’t you just love young love.” 

and he does, he looks, really looks — softly staring across the table and through the haze of his own judgement, noticing how happy his little girl looks all wrapped up with her boyfriend. all he’s ever wanted is to keep her smiling, give her a life that his parents couldn’t give him, he feels all of his resentment and fear or losing his daughter melt away like a plain sheet of paper dissolving in water. he loves her too much to not let her be happy, his baby. his little girl. 

“no, not at all,” satoru finally relents with a wobbling voice and silvery tears that dot his vision — shaking his head back and forth to stop them from dropping onto his sleeping son gathered in his arms. “w-why would you say that? god, is it allergy season? my eyes are killing me. they’re not cute at all, why would you say that i’m crying?” 

your teenage daughter glances over, relief evident in all of her identical gojo features. “no one mentioned you crying, daddy.” she coos softly in an attempt to console satoru.

it doesn’t work, he starts dry heaving and sobbing. which is new for her, he hasn’t cried this hard since her baby brother was born.

the kid scrambles into his pocket and damn near stumbles over the table in order to hand your white haired lover a tissue. “i don’t think you’re crying sir!” 

“shut up!” gojo sniffles dramatically, putting on his best theatre kid act and drapes himself ( and the baby ) all over you. “shit, is this cushioned tissue? three ply?” pale, deft fingers swipe at the blue pools of eyes which well with tears while the kid nods over enthusiastically — desperate to please his girlfriend’s guardian. “good stuff this is… but this doesn’t mean i approve of you for my daughter!”

“gojo!” 

“whaaaaat!? he doesn’t have a 401K!”

ᯓ★ RYOMEN SUKUNA:

if you’d told sukuna, almost a decade and a half ago, that he would end up with a life shrouded in domestic bliss — he would have laughed in your face. maybe even called you a cunt whilst telling you to fuck off. back then, when he was younger and the spirit of ambitious fire burned brightly in his veins as though he had petroleum for blood, the pink haired man never dreamed of settling down. buying a house. getting married. or having kids.

he was as untameable as a wild horse, with only one goal in mind. to open up his restaurant and get his family out of that shithole town by all and any means. he’d cross whatever rivers he had to, climb whatever mountains he needed to — push past societal hurdles that judged him for the pink in his hair and the thick ink on his body. ryomen sukuna did not care. not about anyone else, only about his goals.

at least, until he met you. 

in many ways, you were a blessing to the world where sukuna was a curse. his complete opposite, the day to his night. though the worlds and lives you came from were completely different — 

nowadays, the man is a little softer around the edges and weaker in the heart — they say that’s what true love does to you.

a set of keys jingle at the front door, followed by the dull thud of trainers on the shoe rack and footsteps on the mahogany wood floor. sukuna hardly looks up from the article he’s reading — something about the best recipes for autumnal vegetables. who would have thought, ryomen sukuna, reading up on gardening. he would tell anyone who asked it was for his restaurant, not because he actually enjoyed it. would make him look soft. 

“hey, i’m home!” the voice that calls to him is sweet and youthful, a dulcet symphony that tugs paternally at the pink haired man’s heart strings. “is ma here?” 

sukuna smiles to himself behind the newspaper, inhaling its fresh ink scent. “in the kitchen, workin’,” he replies absentmindedly, listening to his daughter skid down the hall after dropping her backpack. “oi squirt, you ain’t slick. you know what day it is, report card. now.” 

there’s a dramatic sigh that follows footsteps trailing back into the living room. sukuna’s daughter, his pride and joy clings onto the doorframe with a scowl that could very well rival his own, ruby red eyes twinkling with annoyance — she’s in a rush to chat with her mother after school, he knows, but he can’t help but to tease her just a bit. “s’in my bag, can i go now?” she whines impatiently but takes off at the first gentle nod from her father in reply. 

but the pink haired parent’s peaceful evening is quickly turned upside down at the discovery he makes in the bottom of his pride and joy’s bag. no matter how much time has passed, how many decades have gone by in which he’s been a father — nothing could prepare him for this new challenge, the new wave of emotions that come with having a tween daughter and swirl hotly in his chest.

“what the fuck is this?” he announces with a foul snarl, slipping into the kitchen where his girls chitchat idly over a test batch of cookies sukuna had made earlier in the day. for his restaurant of course. not because he’s a doting husband or loving father. he’s got an image to uphold and it’s not one of domestic bliss. 

his daughter chirps, not looking up from the sweet treat she picks apart and pops into her mouth — seated on the kitchen island while you work away on your laptop. “what’s what, daddy?” her innocent nonchalance about the older sukuna’s discovery almost makes him pop a vein. “also, ma told you to stop saying the f-word. so, swear jar.”

the hulking man with the contrastingly soft pink pokes his tongue into the soft epithelium of his cheek, his jaw ticks and a playful frustration tingles throughout all four of his limbs. the swear jar was something you’d brought into play as soon as [daughter name] had learned how to talk, afraid that your rough and rugged husband’s potty mouth would rub off on her young impressionable mind. every time a cursed word falls from between ryomen sukuna’s lips, a couple hundred yen is popped into the jar as punishment. the thing was practically full by your baby’s third birthday, so you’ve been putting it down as her college fund ever since.

paper rustles between deft and tattooed fingers as sukuna reveals not a report card, but a crinkled note like the kind passed back and forth between distracted kids in the middle of that one class before lunch. “don’t play dumb with me, squirt.” ryomen holds the note up to the light so that both of his girls can see, blood diamond eyes squinting so he can inspect it better. somebody get this guy his glasses. “‘do you want to go out with me? tick for yes, cross for no.’” he reads out loud, each word leaving a bitter taste on his tongue, his frown so deep that lines of disapproval form on his well-aged face.

thoughts of the once all-important report card vanish into thin air, the relaxed aura in the room replaced with a palatable tension that not even your husband’s finest knives could cut. your precious baby girl shoots up from the counter to scramble with her dad over the note in hand. he holds her back with a large palm to the forehead.

“oh my god! you weren’t supposed to see that! daddy, give it here. please!”

“fat chance, squirt,” the tattooed man retorts. “you passin’ notes in class? that why you’re hidin’ your report card?” 

“you can have my report card, when you give that back!”

with the two standing side by side, the resemblance strikes you as clear as day. they share the same hair, same scowl and same rugged intonation to their voices. they’re both yours, your entire world under one roof. before they can blow said root off, you stand between the elder and younger sukuna — turning to your husband with hooded eyes and a gentle hand on the centre of his broad chest. “oh ryo,” you coo in flirtation, slowing his train of thought as you sneakily swipe the crushed paper from his grip. “shut up ‘n let me see that.”

your daughter gags behind you at the display of affection, contrasting with the amused smirk you share with your long time lover. after all this time, marriage and the perfect kid, you’re still able to make a fool out of him — make sukuna’s heart skip a beat and a heat he refuses to acknowledge crawl up the back of his neck. he’s gone soft, for you and his family. for now, for you, he relents on taunting his precious little girl. 

casting your gaze over the note, you grin at the pink-ink chicken scratch scribbled across the page. it’s sweet and endearing, reminding you of young love. “did atsushi finally ask you out?” you ask tenderly, handing the paper back to your daughter who cuddles it to her chest like the  physical version of a precious memory. 

a bashful expression lines the contours of her face, seeping into features you’d recognise from your husband on her. sukuna would argue that she has the shape of your eyes and your beauty too — but all you see is a culmination of love. “ma you were so totally right, playing hard to get really works!” 

she gushes dreamily over her crush like it’s puppy love, biting her lip and bouncing on the spot. 

“like a charm, every time.” comes your entertained response, much to your husband’s dismay.

“you weren’t playin’ hard to get with me…” sukuna questions rather than states, trying to piece together parts of the gossip that he’s missed. an anxiety corners the beat of his heart at the thought of his daughter dating, something in which the burly man never thought he would be afraid of. the world had been hard on sukuna; he only worries that it’s not as safe for his pride and joy as it were for him.   “never mind that; the brat asked you out with a piece of paper?  y’better not have said yes. we have standards here.” 

his words make you roll your eyes with the hint of a smile. ryomen almost reminding you of your own father around the time you’d met him.

your daughter scrunches her nose petulantly, gearing herself up for a witty reply. “well ma married you, so her standards can’t be that high.” she snaps, earning a stifled laugh from you and an unimpressed grunt from her hardheaded dad. “and no, i didn’t. told him he needed to ask me out  properly. face to face. with words. he said to meet him on the running track tomorrow at lunch for a surprise!”

pulling her into a hug, you kiss her round youthful cheek. “oh baby, i'm so happy for you!”

“well i ain’t! show me the damn kid, need to see what kind of pitiful brat wants to ask out my little girl,”  sukuna crosses his arms and grumbles to himself, black ink tattoos flexing menacingly as he does so. almost as if he’s preparing to threaten the kid before even meeting him. “whatever happened to askin’ for permission to court or whatever. he should have been on my doorstep asking for your hand.” 

“firstly you would have said no, and secondly this isn’t the olden days, dad. nobody does that anymore.” your cheeky daughter chides him loudly, her words slipping over her snarky little tongue. like father like daughter, the way they snip and snap at one another has an uncanny resemblance.

tilting your head upwards towards your fuming husband, you laugh breathlessly in a way that washes away his anger.“she’s right ryo; though my dad hardly approved of you either.” you say softly. even now, you make him feel weak in the knees and dizzy in the mind, like he’s so anything for you. whoever dates his daughter should feel the same about her.

“i freakin’ earned it, didn’t i? 

“just barely.”

sukuna huffs but settles a hand on your waist from behind and his head atop yours. he needs to soothe himself somehow, his daughter is growing too fast. “stop ganging up on me and lemme see the damn kid.” 

“here, isn’t he cute.” 

lips downturned, sukuna craned his neck to look at your daughter’s phone from over your shoulder — scrutinising the instagram page that she’s opened now offering the kid his only child has taken an interest in like a lamb at the slaughterhouse. “brat looks like a noodle.” haughty laughter fills the kitchen, reverberating against the bones and organs in ryomen’s chest and buzzing right though your back. “you’re right i woulda said no as soon as he fuckin’ turned up!” 

two sets of scolding eyes similar in shape, belonging to the two girls he loves the most swivel around to face the pink haired man disapprovingly.

“ryomen sukuna!” 

“daddy!”

“yeah yeah, i know. swear jar.”

ᯓ★ SUGURU GETO:

“my love, were you aware that our little munchkin has a boyfriend?”

suguru looks up from the bubbling pot of child friendly pasta sauce on the stove. if it were just the two of you having dinner tonight, like it was merely three (nearly four) years ago — he would have planned for a more adventurous meal. perhaps sought out a bottle of fine aged wine for you both to enjoy on the balcony and even gotten a dessert to sweeten the date in. but now, you both had more than two hungry tummies to worry about, and bottles of wine could only be purchased when the little one was off with her uncle satoru.

“no, i wasnt. i don't believe that’s come up in discussion before,” your dark haired lover turns his narrow gaze to the giggly little girl swaddled in your arms — her chubby cheeks and dark, curious eyes just peeking out of the fluffy duck-themed towel you’ve wrapped her in. bath time is usually after bed, but someone got into the paint pots at nursery school and managed to get blotches of blue streaked through her hair and under her fingernails. “care to elaborate sweetheart?”

suguru taps the wooden sauce spoon against the side of the pot and swipes his hands on a nearby tea towel before allowing them to rest on his hips, look of faux irritation settling on the contours of his face and slopes of his features. thin brows draw together like closed gates in the middle of his forehead — the expression earning airy light and squealed laughter from your baby girl.

“nuh uhhh! not my boy-fend!” she babbles her way through the big girl word, missing a few syllables here and there, but geto still grins with pride — happily leaning forward to press enthusiastic kisses to his little angel’s damp forehead. “no boy-fend papa!

bouncing your daughter slightly, you cock your hip out to hold her weight and cheekily roll your eyes. “such a daddy’s girl, lying to him already? he’ll let you get away with anything if you keep that up,”  though you muster up a pout to rival the toddler’s, the uncanny resemblance warming the cockles or your husband’s heart, your tone is playful and adoring — it’s lilt full of love for the baby girl you made together. you pinch her chubby cheek, waggling it from side to side as more of her childlike laughter tangles with the scent of pasta in the air.  “we bumped into the fujioka boy and his mother at the gates this morning, he held her hand all the way up to the classroom. it was quite cute. you had to be there, love.” 

“i’m sure,” he responds, gentle mirth and protectiveness swirling in dark framed eyes.

you relay the information to your husband as though it’s hot gossip fresh from the press, whispering over your dark-haired daughter’s head not so secretly. even with the hair and eyes to match suguru’s, she’s still just as much your carbon copy as she is his — he tends to say all of her spirit comes from you, not to mention the way she laughs and smiles.

shaking her head between you, both — your baby chimes in brightly. “noooo mama!! boys are gross, i don’ hold hands with boys.”

this time suguru manoeuvres to pinch her other chubby cheek, clicking his tongue as he does so. “not even papa?” he pretends to pout, crouching down with his hands on his knees to coo into her sweet little face. 

“nuhhh, papa isn’t gross!! papa is my favourite boy!” she quickly tacks on with a dribbly smile.

“that’s right. i’ll be the only boy in your life always, just you and i princess,” your husband reaffirms with a firm shake of his head and presses a promise in the form of a kiss to your daughter’s nose. her chubby little hands, still wet from bath time, smack either side of suguru’s face and keep him close — close enough for her to plant a soggy smooch onto his forehead affectionately. a wet kiss only a father could love. “that settles it, i’m no longer sharing my kisses. papa says no boyfriends until you’re ninety.”

once your two loves are done sharing their candied affections, you seat your daughter on the edge of the kitchen table to allow geto the room to finish up with dinner. the comforting symphony of baby babbles and kitchen utensils clanking and food boiling fills the steamy air, it makes you smile. it feels like home. “oh come on suguru, they’re only three. don’t you think it’s the tiniest bit adorable?” you say with a sing-songy voice, entertaining both your little one and her father.“they even share their animal crackers during break time and crayons when it’s time to colour, one of the supervisors told me.”

with his back now to you as he stirs through the pasta sauce one final time, you hardly miss the way suguru’s shoulders tense at the mention of the little boy your girl has taken a liking to. he wouldn’t dare frown about it in front of her, what upsets daddy upsets baby too. that’s why he’s always smiling for her, and you find the man’s subtle jealousy endearing. it’s always supposed to be suguru and his princess, with no room for anyone else ( aside from you, of course ) 

“nope, no boyfriends. no amount of cuteness can convince me otherwise.” voice falling tight and flat, suguru reaches into the cupboards for plates and bowls to dish up his lovingly prepared home cooked meal, slamming them into place at the table with a little less patience than before. 

the idea of some… little boy chasing after his daughter’s heart? over his dead body.

“boy-fends are gross!” but your daughter is forever a daddy’s girl, furrowing her brow and crossing her tiny arms in an act of defiance — supporting her papa’s cause. boyfriends are bad! 

fuelling her excitement and even more support for papa — food is served shortly by your husband, who plates up as best as he can with toddler safe dinnerware. you adjust your little girl into her high chair at the table, giggling to yourself softly when she cranes her neck to keep an eye on suguru. “does that mean papa’s gross? he’s technically mama’s boyfriend.”

“husband, love, there’s a difference.” 

three plates of hot, aromatic spaghetti are organised in a table — each a domestic reminder of the family suguru geto has been blessed with. in that moment, he thinks he would be happy if he spent the rest of his life as just the three of you. briefly his mind wonders to setting a fourth place at the table in a decade or so’s time, once his daughter truly is old enough to date. the very thought makes him feel ill. 

round, doe eyes dart between you and suguru as you take your seats either side of your darling daughter at the table — she mimics you both with fumbling little fingers that reach for her baby fork and concentrates as she attempts to repeat your husband’s words. “can i have a husbsband-love?”

you laugh and kiss her cheek, helping her to gather a bite of pasta on the full end of her fork. “husband. just husband, my love. make sure you blow on your food please!” she follows your instructions with a comical air, cheeks puffing and breath huffing while you explain why her father is a second away from blowing his top. “good girl. husband’s aren’t for babies, baby. and i think papa might not like it if you got one now.”

“if you got one ever!” suguru interjects, eyes narrowing while he fights with his lips to avoid a scowl. “the answer is still no, princess. no husbands and no boyfriends until papa is old, cold and in the ground.” 

now that your hands are free, you grab the nearest tea towel and wind it up in your grip — launching its tail end at geto as though to swat at  him. he jumps in surprise and your daughter shrieks in amusement as she begins babbling again. “don worry, papa!. fujioka is  no my boy-fend!!” she says over food in her mouth and happy tummy. geto wipes over her face again. she’ll definitely need another bath later. “hasegawa is!!”

the pair of you share a look and this time, you really think suguru might just throw in the towel. 

how could he compete with pre-school love and paint pots shared over playtime gossip? 

“two boyfriends? oh god, love… i think need some air.”

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai & recommend elsewhere.

[kameyyy]

#recs

this didn’t fit anymore lmao😭

try again

part 0.11. HERE TO STAY

“on the other side of the wall, she’s listening to her client with a smile on her face. she’s a professional; she’s been trained to multitask and take notes while still listening and providing feedback to her clients. right now, she’s clicking off a tab back to the one filled with bullet points on things her client has said. she always knows when he arrives. she hears the left door open, which she knows because it squeaks more than the one on the right. he always uses the left door (she thinks it has something to do with the fact that more people touch the handle of the right door on their way in) and his paces are always steady down the creaky hallway. her last sign that he's here is the chair he sits in every time, the one right next to the door into her rooms. the legs are the slightest bit uneven and the back of the chair will lightly tap against the wall as its way of letting her know of her welcome guest. she already has her queue of songs up. she’s always hated her thin walls until he started coming in. a lot has changed in her life since he's come back, hasn't it?"

content warnings: the big finale which isn't that dramatic! i'm sorry for my bad writing! y/n dad reveal! breaking news: her dad is an asshole! tad bit of violence, one mention of blood and also just cursing and abusive fathers </3

he insists on paying and she doesn’t argue with him about it for long; she’ll have countless more opportunities to steal the check from him, she hopes.

she feels better when she's finally eaten after a day of nervous nausea and time spent anxiously bouncing her knee. on top of that, she’d been with him for the majority of the day, distracting her from what had happened in the morning. he even listened to her issues, and she’s finally starting to believe the promise that he’s here to stay. 

they’ve just stepped off the train, and her apartment building is only a few minutes away. he walks alongside her the entire time, their arms brushing each other ever so often. whether it’s on purpose or not, neither of them will fess up.

he’s only distracted from his time spent mindlessly reaching his arm out just the slightest bit more to hit hers ever so often when he feels a buzz in his pocket. he slips out his phone quickly to check its screen:

akaashi’s a moment too late, because they’ve just made it up the stairs to her floor.

she’s already seen him, and he’s already seen her.

she wants to puke. 

he’s there, arguing with iwaizumi outside their door. his sunken eyes and gaunt face make her stomach twist with guilt, but a brush from omi’s knuckles reminds her where she is again. it’s not her job to take care of him. it never was, and it never will be.

"you," the man is pointing a finger towards her, stumbling forward and she immediately shrinks back like a shriveling flower, losing her confidence. omi's already standing in front of her without even thinking about it, putting a barrier between the two.

the old man keeps talking as if he can see right through him, though “you’re a disrespectful worthless piece of shit, you know that? can’t ever in your life put even a single person about yourself. here you are living with a bunch of boys. what are you, a whore? do you suck them off so they’ll keep the bad guys away? they’re doing a shit job at it. i’m standing here after, all, aren’t i?”

“it’s not like that,” her voice is quiet and weak, and she’s not even sure it makes it to the man’s ears.

“you can’t think about anyone else. you're too selfish. you won’t even answer your own father’s calls much less say anything to him at all–”

“i told you to back off!” her voice comes out loud this time, louder than she means for it to, “i’ve told you to back off so many times but you just don’t listen,” she steps out from behind omi, standing next to him instead while the man in front of them stops at the sound of her voice, “these are my roommates and my closest friends. i'm living with them because they genuinely care about me and aren't using me for any purpose, something you can't even dream about. the only reason you’re still standing here is that they have enough self-control and respect for me that they won't beat up the man i regrettably call my father.”

omi’s gaze slides over to hers, trying to see if she’ll meet his eyes. he’s simultaneously trying to communicate how proud of her he is and let her know that he'll support her no matter what happens. 

“take that back,” her father spits, starting to curl his fingers into a fist. she stays silent, and his face begins to flush an angry red. “you’re only proving my point. you’re just an ungreatful little girl who thinks she no longer has to care about anyone else because she's older. i took care of you your whole life and i will not have you ignoring me for the rest of my fucking life!” the smell of beer invades her senses as he steps closer.

“you did jackshit in my life! you never helped me with anything I asked you to. never bought me anything i needed, you've never cared about me. i’ve grown up and moved out. i can do whatever i damn please and i told you to leave me alone. maybe if you respected me i wouldn't ignore you, but that's impossible for you,” she retorts, standing her ground.

“don’t you fucking talk to me like that–” he nears her, only a few steps between them and she starts to feel the panic in her chest, “your stubbornness is the reason your mother left–”

“my stubbornness?” she can’t help but fight back. that’s what separates her from her past self. her younger self ran away, left home as soon as she could to live on her own, but now she’s grown into who she is today, and she won’t let him ruin that. “you treated your wife like shit and refused to change no matter how many times she screamed and argued with you right in front of me about how horrible you were. you've never fixed anything because you’re so stuck up and think you’re so high and mighty that she decided to pack up her bags and leave–”

“then why did she leave you behind too?” 

it’s like her heart stops beating for a second. her blood runs cold before her vision is a blur and the face of the man is crushed right in front of her, sending him to the ground groaning. his hand is covering his nose, preventing her from seeing how badly damaged it is, but she can’t find it in her to care.

“don’t blame her for your faults. grow up and take responsibility for your shit. she deserved better than either of you,” omi is talking down on the man now, and she looks up from her father’s body to the fist of the boy beside her, bruised and a little red.

he’s been by her side since day one, and maybe he disappeared for a section of it, but now he’s back. they're back together, and she stands proudly beside him, “she left me too, but i can’t be mad at her for being sick of you. or us. whatever it is, you’re both selfish and her absence nor yours is something i’m mourning over. i’m happy to have left you too and for the last time, i never want to see you again”

iwaizumi has joined them, standing above the man, no trace of sympathy in his eyes despite the blood that's streaking down her father's face. he tries to get up, only for iwaizumi to keep him down on the ground with a foot on his shoulder, “you heard her. don’t ever show your fucking face around here again. i’ll kill you the moment i lay eyes on you.” iwaizumi’s olive eyes move from the ground to meet hers, slightly softening when he sees her, “are you done with him? i’ll make sure he gets out of here and stays away for good.”

omi’s words from the diner rush back to her head, and she doesn’t feel so bad for relying on her friend. she believes he's willing to help her, and she won’t let her father’s words get to her head. she’s cared for others, unlike him, and developed relationships that she’s earned by giving out her own love. “yeah, i’m done,” her voice is quiet again as she keeps looking at her friend, searching his eyes for any sort of annoyance. but she can’t find any, and she smiles, walking towards him, wrapping her arms around him. “thank you, iwaizumi.”

he has an arm around her shoulders, his foot still resting on her father. “always,” he replies simply before she leaves him embrace, gesturing for omi to follow her. “i’m going to take care of his fist, now.”

iwaizumi only nods, turning his attention back to the man on the ground omi following his gaze as he passes by. iwaizumi will do more than a good enough job at keeping his word, he knows that, but he feels like he should have some part in taking care of the man whose plagued the girl in front of him for her entire life.

but she hasn’t asked him to take care of the man in front of her, and he knows its not his place. she knows she does not resent the man to the point that she wishes harm upon him, she simply wishes that he would leave her alone. and iwaizumi will make sure that wish is honored, and omi should be satisfied with the hit he landed on the man’s nose.

before her hand can even reach the knob of the door, it swings open and she’s pulled inside by the arms of a black-haired man who he recognizes to be akaashi. kita is standing beside him, a hand on [y/n]’s shoulder as they both check on her for any injuries or harm.

he hasn’t seen kita since his days in high school when he was the captain of inarizaki; atsumu told him he had moved out to the countryside but he must have come back after some time. he feels like a weight is lifted off his chest at the sight of her in the arms of his roomates, and he knows that she is cared for. that she has found her people, just like he told her earlier that night, and he hopes that she’s starting to accept his words as the truth.

he’s happy just watching her from afar, but she breaks apart from akaashi’s hug to gesture him in, and kita shuts the door behind him. “omi, this way,” she says with a smile on her face, beckoning him with a hand.

it’s the first time she’s called him by that old name since high school, and he thinks he’s falling even harder for her if that’s possible. she makes him sit on a stool in the kitchen while she searches her cabinets and a nearby closet for medical supplies. she’s begun to apply an ointment to his hand when he opens his mouth, “i can’t believe you think your roomates would ever leave you. look at how they all came to make sure you were okay. mine are one fight away from starting to vote people to kick out of the apartment nearly every week.”

she laughs at his comment, unwrapping a roll of bandages, “i’m sure no one would ever vote for you if that happened, but i guess you’re right, they’re pretty good, aren’t they?”

he nods, watching her face while she’s focused on his hand, “are you doing okay?”

she hums back in response, “yeah. the thing about my mom leaving me behind too kind of stung, but i don’t think life would’ve been any better with her, so it shouldn’t really hurt that bad. i’ll be okay. what you said at the diner really helped, you know. i feel like I can trust myself to say what i'm thinking rather than being scared i'm wrong or selfish. i can trust that it's not egotistical to believe my roomates don’t actually hate me. and that you don’t hate me. so i feel like i’ve finally escaped the weight of my dad’s words always crushing me and playing down anything i do.”

he reaches a hand up with his uninjured hand to wipe away tears from her face she didn't even realize were falling. and then he keeps his hand there, caressing the side of her face. “i don’t hate you, i never have. this entire time…how i feel about you is quite the opposite,” the words are slightly too intimate for him and as soon as they escape his mouth, it becomes hard to swallow and his face feels a little hot, but he doesn’t remove the hand from her cheek. he opts to say something more neutral next, “you did well, talking back down to him. i think you could’ve taken him down yourself.”

she chuckles at that, tying a knot to finish his bandage, “that’s what you think, but i’m sure i’d break my thumb or something. and if i have a hot man to defend me? i’m not lifting a finger.”

“you think i’m hot?” he says with a smile.

her cheeks grow warm under his hand, but she can’t look or move away from him, “i’m pretty sure thousands of people think so. it’s like a fact; newspapers can make money off of just having your face on the front page even if they barely mention you or don’t focus on sports at all.”

“well none of that matters,” he’s smiling softly now, and she’s still looking into his dark-colored eyes, hands holding his wrapped hand, “it just matters what you think.”

“what i think?” she repeats. and maybe it’s the adrenaline from the encounter they just had, or his boldness rubbing off on her in this current moment, but her next words come out clear and confident, “i think i love you, and i have for years. even when you left, i never stopped loving you.”

“i’m gonna make up for those years, you know,” he whispers back, pulling her by the sides to stand between his legs, bringing her closer. “i know i love you. i’d be a fool not to. and i loved you back then in high school too, even if i didn’t know it. i swear, losing you made me realize how much i took you for granted and everything became clear. letting you disappear was the worst mistake i ever made. i’ll make up for that lost time. make it up to you to the the point that you’re sick of me and you forget we were ever even separated for a time in our lives.”

“oh? and how are you gonna do that?” there’s a breathless feeling growing inside of her chest, where her heart beating fast with his confession and the way she's allowing him to pull her face close to this.

“starting with this,” his breath is hot against her lips before he closes the gap between them, and she’s kissing him back. she doesn't mourn or wish for the past, or for anything to change. he's come back and that's all that matters. she's happy with the word again. she likes it better than a phrase like "we fell in love at first sight." instead, she can say, "we met again. we fell in love again.

"we tried again."

it sounds like a story that reminds people endings aren't set in stone. she likes it.

.

.

.

“by the way, have you been playing songs for me in your lounge room when i’m waiting for you?”

“oh, you noticed?”

.

.

.

"the more you love your friends the more their features start to blur until all you remember is a pair of warm, welcoming eyes and laughter that feels like home."

prev. | m.list

extras <3

this is the end! thank you for reading try again <3

that last little quote is something i should've included like two chapters ago but it got lost in my gallery so here it is now <3

y/n's a good therapist i swear!!! she takes like one second to hit a play on a spotify playlist she's not playing games on her computer for entire sessions 😭

this is all i have tbh! i hope you enjoyed a little bit of this story <3 thank you so so much for being along on this ride w me!!

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[erensfeed]

Hello!! Can you please do lnd men where the reader gets dizzy easily for example in car if there's no music or they're not sitting at the window they get dizzy orif there's a strong smell at the vehicle they get dizzy like how would they react to that?

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀｡ WHEN YOU FEEL DIZZY IN THE CAR .ᐟ ｡

featuring: rafayel. zayne. sylus. xavier. caleb x reader.

៹ cw. fluff. mentions of dizziness + lightheadedness.

⌞ an⌝ hiii pookieee!!!! omg i literally apologize for how this took longer but i hope you enjoy these bunch & it’s sweet enough for you! also, make sure you take care during/after times you may feel a bit dizzy ♡︎ future doc orders here👻

wc. 1.4k

rafayel.

has this tender worried look etched onto his face the moment he notices you looking uneasy.

if you admit to him that you were feeling dizzy in the car, he would roll down the windows so you could get some cool fresh air and then ask how you feel after.

"should i take you to the hospital? no? are you sure?"

closing your eyes now, you’d manage to laugh about how it doesn’t feel that serious, just to make him less worried because ironically, he would be the one who’s more stressed.

if he’s driving & can pull over, he will. if not, he’ll drive slower, smoother—making sure you feel safe until he can stop somewhere or even home.

knows how woozy you may be feeling regardless, so he would hold your hand in his to keep you grounded as his way of not wanting you to go through the feeling alone and would keep glancing back at you more than the road.

when you get home, he’d ask if you can walk or if you'd want him to carry you.

settles you to rest on the couch then comes over to add more pillows to keep you comfortable so you can relax for the rest of the day.

makes you drink lots of water too then moves to open the windows at home too.

asks how you’re doing again after the 110th time you told him you’re better because he really wants to make sure.

"it's hard for me to see you unwell you know."

also asks if you need anything and when you tell him you just want to cuddle, he’d be happy to and reassures you that you’ll fully be a-okay after sleeping and waking up.

still talks gently here and there while you’re sound asleep in his arms.

when you wake up he asks again how you feel. “feeling better? good.”

lightly chuckles with you after on how you looked like a dizzy bean emoji but in a cute endearing teasing way of course (even though seeing you dizzy made him a worried parent.)

zayne.

zayne notices before you even say anything. the second your posture shifts or your breathing changes, his attention would be on you.

“dizzy?” he would ask softly and all it would take is for you to confirm it before he would already either have the window up with the ac on or down for fresh air depending on what needed to be done to avoid making you nauseous.

prioritizes you no matter the level of how bad it feels for you.

parks somewhere better, safe and quiet & would have a bottle of water ready in the center console storage.

helps hold it for you with one hand and the other behind your head.

his doctor instincts would kick in without thinking and he’d ask questions and give instructions.

“how bad is it? “do you feel lightheaded or nauseous?”

“okay, close your eyes. now breathe slowly. here—gently press your forehead against the seat. it’ll help.”

when you get home, he would also carry you and would help you take off extra layers of clothes so you feel less suffocated and so it doesn’t happen again.

would make you herbal tea or some sugar tea to drink then gives you medication to help.

“your blood sugar levels might’ve dropped."

if you tease him for being in ‘doctor mode’ he would just simply smile a little and crouch to your level then say something like

“tease me all you want but i’ll always put your health first.”

because doctor or not, you’re his #1 priority.

(affectionately) lectures you about you needing to stay away from doing things that’ll trigger your stress/dizziness while you’re in his arms in bed.

if you tried to talk he shushes you and kisses the top of your head instead so you sleep.

monitors you a lot more (than usual) since then.

you'd hear more "no. and i mean it, doctor’s orders."

you won’t ever have to face dizziness/lightheadedness when you’re with him as much after that. and in the car, in most cases, the window would be already down/up depending on whether you need fresh air or not, to prevent it from happening .

sylus.

notices when you instinctively touch his arm and asks “what’s wrong?”

the moment you tell him how you feel, he doesn’t panic since he also doesn’t want you to too.

slows down the car and helps you recline your seat back a little and adjusts your seatbelt/unbuckles you so you can relax your head.

“lie down, and close your eyes. do you need me to get you water from the nearest store?”

asks if it’s okay to continue driving & if it is, he drives carefully making sure the car ride is smooth as well.

“here, take my hand and keep closing your eyes if it gets bad.”

plays a calming & soothing music right after to help you.

later, whether or not you can walk & are feeling better, he’d carry you bridal style inside and would gently settle you on the bed when you’re home.

reads about what to do to stop/prevent it again and what to make for you to eat.

spoon feeds you soups/meals he made that can help.

“sylus you do know i can feed myself right?”

“i know sweetie, but let me.”

pampers you the whole day.

although he notices when you act even more dizzy for his attention, he chuckles to himself about it but still obliges by taking care of you and doesn’t mention it.

xavier.

super gentle about it. his whole demeanor softens the second you tell him.

places a hand on top of your head to see if you’re running a temperature first.

“are you sick?”

when you tell him it’s from a super strong random smell from outside that's getting you this way, he’d have the windows up and turn on the ac.

“will it help if you lean on me? i don’t mind, i just want you to feel okay.”

once you get home, he doesn't leave your side unless it's to go get you water or medicine he got.

offers to cook you something.

orders it instead because it’s already one thing to worry about than burnt food.

searches online and finds out that meat helps.

“i knew it. see, it's like i told you. meat always helps everything.”

he would say to you, making you both laugh.

makes you some ginger tea before the food arrives.

“i read this will help too. careful, it’s a little hot so take slow sips. here, let me..”

while feeding you, he would ask if you overworked yourself these past few and if you say yes he would do everything else for you from then on.

“if you take a nap now, you’ll feel even better soon”

if you ask if he wants to sleep too he’d say “no, not yet” and that he prefers watching you fall asleep first as he puts a blanket over you.

plays quiet music as well at home to help you & comes back next to you, to watch you slowly fall asleep.

(ends up falling asleep next to you once you're long asleep)

caleb.

catches it when you stop midway your sentence and start blinking and shaking your head.

“hey what's the matter?”

when you let him know, he gently takes your hand in his as he drives carefully to looks for a parking spot.

he has even more reason to protect you by the way.

he’d be worried but keeps a calm face for you as he tells you to relax your head and to lie back on your seat.

cracks the window down just right as well.

“easy, i’ve got you. yeah just close your eyes for a sec and breathe with me, okay? yeah, just like that.”

praises you softly as he comforts you all through.

"good girl."

when you get home, he would do anything that wouldn’t have you stressed or bending down.

if you tried to do something, he’s got it covered instead.

“oh no you don’t.”/“not on my watch.”

while you're resting your eyes, he would ask “do you need anything else?.. like more water? more pillows?.. or maybe… me?”

you’d fully open your eyes to give him this look

(depending on your reaction *mild shock, a smirk or a ??*)

“*softly laughs* geez i meant like a cuddle, princess.”

rubs his thumb over your knuckles absentmindedly during the cuddle, not even realizing he’s doing it and talks with you on how you fit perfectly into him because of times like these too.

even days after you say you’re fine, he still watches you more from the corner of his eye, until you call him out on it.

still does everything and around the house for you even after you feel better and makes sure you eat/drink enough, exercise & sleep better.

© 𝟤𝟢𝟤4 erensfeed. 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽