#I know I said that I wouldn’t get to play for a few days

[clockwork-hearted]

This was the first queer movie I watched in high school. I remember finally having good, strong WiFi and exploring YouTube one night. Was using my refurbished MacBook that I begged my dad to get me so I can have something to use for school.

I don’t remember how exactly I came across this movie (honestly was probably going through some YouTube rabbit hole of “movies where guys make out” or the classic “two men kissing” search), but it was the full length movie. And it was free.

I was so excited to watch it and see what kind of guy on guy action I would get to see. But being forced to stay in the closet growing up, I couldn’t just outright watch this movie while my parents were home.

So I bookmarked it. Made sure I even saved the link somewhere. And had to wait until my parents weren’t home.

Thankfully, I ended up realizing that I was a teen that was allowed to stay up late on the weekends. So I stayed up, waited until both my parents were in their rooms, fast asleep, and then I went into my room, closed the door (couldn’t lock it though. Locking bedroom doors was an offense that would cause a scene every time for absolutely no reason), plugged my headphones in, and snuggled up and watched it.

I remember sitting upright to start it then getting tired and deciding to lay down. Ended up laying the laptop on its side just so I could keep watching haha

And I remember going through the rollercoaster of emotions seeing these two characters having a connection but being so twisted up about it. Regardless of everything they went through, I still wanted that. I still wanted someone I could kiss passionately. Someone I could go to bed with and wake up next to in our own little world. Someone I could go to the beach with and spend all day with. Someone who wanted to push me for my abilities (don’t have any but it played into my fantasies lol) and strive to be the best I could be at them.

And then reaching the end of the movie and being so happy with it. I remember crying. Crying so much that I thought I wasn’t going to be able to stop. I remember shoving my face in my pillows to try and muffle my crying.

Oh, I learned to cry silently so very quick in my home. How I learned what it meant to be even more suppressed than I already was. How I had to learn to hold back all the choking sounds my throat would utter and just let the tears flow. Silently blowing my nose into tissues so I wouldn’t wake my parents and cause a scene.

“Why are you crying? What’s happening? What did you watch? What’s going on? Etc. etc. etc.” - yeah, like I was going to come clean about my emotions and be able to talk these things out. Pht. How I wished and how I dreamed that I could. Would’ve made growing up easier. But I didn’t have those kinds of parents.

So the first night I watched this movie, it meant a lot in such little time. Movies like this really saved me as a teen.

I started doing a deep dive into any and all other queer movies I could find online for free (but that’s a story for a different time).

Tbh, I had forgotten about this gem of a movie. Made me feel a little guilty for forgetting, mostly because it really helped me continue pretending, and knowing that one day I would find someone to experience beautiful moments with. It allowed me to realize that queer media (that wasn’t porn) was out there, that I didn’t have to feel alone, and that it was only a few key strokes and google searches away.

For anyone who read through this whole thing (I know I blabbed, but I really needed to get this off my chest and my mind), thank you.

And I also hope that even though the world can feel so against you, even in spaces that are supposed to be safe, that there are people out there that know and understand you and can relate to how you feel.

I know it’s always easier said than done, but hang in there. And if it all gets to be too suffocating, please remember there are resources out there to help. But please, please, please, don’t get snuffed out. Let yourself burn as bright as you can. Because at the end of the day, you will always find Shelter- whether it’s with family members, friends, teachers, chosen/adoptive families, online communities, etc. you will find it. And you will be safe. And you will be loved.

I wish you all the very best. May this movie and many others bring you as much joy as it did to me. <3

Shelter (2007) dir. Jonah Markowitz

[clearlyonhere]

I also saw my neighbor that called me fat a few weeks ago. It’s safe to say I’m even bigger now. I had a meeting with my boss this evening so I was in a top and dress slacks (and an unphotographed blazer) that I haven’t put on in over a year. Safe to say they don’t fit.

I was taking my coat off when she looked over at me and she looked shocked! I’ve been stuffing all day but even without that there’s no denying that I’ve been blowing up like a balloon. Every inch of my body is getting bigger and softer and rounder.

She was staring at me and she said “girl you need to buy bigger pants! Maybe a size or two up if you aren’t planning on dieting.”

So of course I had a little bit of fun “well it’s a good thing you said I looked good chunkier. It looks like I gained back every bit of weight I lost and then some.”

She got herself together and said “wow it looks really good on you. You carry the weight really well. How much have you gained since the last time I saw you?”

And I said “idk maybe 10lbs?” I put my hand on my belly and squeezed the roll and said “I swear it went straight to my belly!”

She watched me pinch and roll the blooming fat at my waist and said “it looks way bigger than the last time I saw you! You definitely gained weight! Honestly if I didn’t know better I’d think you were pregnant with how big your belly is getting so quickly,”

So she and I sit down next to each other to each other on a bench and I looked at her, with my hand on my belly and a huge roll hanging over my pants, “I know. I’m getting really fat,”

She watched me play with my belly as I lifted and dropped the roll over my waist band and she said “I wouldn’t say you’re fat yet. Probably just chubby, fat for you yes, but just chubby to anyone else.”

Then she lifted up her shirt and showed me her soft but flat belly and said “it’s ok we all gain weight over the holidays, look at how jiggly I am,” she’s not but I let her pretend.

“Psssh you don’t have a belly you have a flat tummy,” I lifted my top out of my pants which was a struggle. My belly plopped out and I said “this is a belly.”

She reached out and pinched my belly and jiggled it a little then said “wow you must have been eating like a pig to balloon this quickly.”

“I know. I’m really getting big quickly. If I keep going at this rate I’ll be 180 pounds in a couple months!”

She replied “I think that would look really good on you, you look cute with a round belly like that.”

So it’s safe to say she wants me to get fatter! I don’t think she’s a feeder. She’s only brought me banana bread once or twice. But she obviously likes that I’m getting fat.

[look-at-the-soul]

When you love a woman

Tommy Shelby x reader one shot 🎄

Summary: Tommy initially was trying to courtship Y/N when Grace broke the news of her pregnancy, so he had to step back and be responsible for his child. That was the only reason he decided to be there for Grace. Until one day he accidentally heard a phone call that would change everything.

Word count: 2,200

This was meant to be a request I got but somewhere down the road I decided to change it, no worries I’m still working on the request 🤭

Y/N took a step back to admire the Christmas tree she had been decorating for a few hours, she had a tight budget so going back home for the holidays to spend it at her aunt’s place wasn’t an option unfortunately. She had already made peace with the fact that she’d spend the holidays only with her grandma. Studying the tree it looked nice, she made a few ribbons and added faux pearls around it as decorations.

Tommy was fuming, he walked like a wild animal in a cage, his footsteps could be heard so loud even before he reached her door. It was so late now and unusual of him to show up like this. Specially after not having seen each other in months.

“What happene-” Y/N asked in confusion.

But Tommy wouldn’t let her finish her question, his mouth crashed hard against her lips taking her by surprise. The kiss was hungry and desperate.

One of his hands was holding her head in place while the other traveled down her back.

“You were fucking right…” he managed to say between heated kisses. “I heard Grace talking to someone on the phone, said the baby isn’t mine.”

His words made Y/N froze and she pushed him by the shoulders to look him in the eyes.

“What?!”

She had heard him, but she couldn’t believe his words.

“She tried to trick me into that husband infertility bullshit and she played her cards so well…until now.”

Y/N took a step back, trying to process this new piece of information. Her head was spinning.

She met him right after the Grace disaster, she knew all about his former partner and how she had left to go somewhere else but then she came back into his life, but he had only used her for revenge.

Tommy assured Y/N that with her he felt completely comfortable, that’s why he wanted to do things differently this time around. Their courtship actually started the right way from the beginning, he asked her out on dates, sent her flowers, walked with her on her way back home, he was truly a gentleman. He even started inviting her to the Garrison for a drink, sometimes in his office and other times at the betting shop, They were getting to know each other, but they weren’t officially a couple.

For a few weeks it was heaven, she was able to discover his sense of humor and how intelligent and interesting Tommy was. She still remembered so well when he kissed her for the first time, standing by her doorstep, Tommy cornered her between his body and the doorframe, his fingertips holding her chin while his other hand rested against the wall. It was tender and slow, it tasted like hope and she felt butterflies in her stomach.

She thought she found her chance to be happy with Tommy. But they were in the phase of getting to know each other and little did she know how things would change overnight.

Until one day he knocked on her door looking pale and so serious… she remembered it so well. She knew something was wrong right away.

And how wrong.

He confessed her then that the woman he had a one night stand with for revenge was pregnant with his child.

It took her several minutes to understand what that meant. Tommy would take full responsibility for that baby and the mother and that meant they couldn’t be together. Their relationship wouldn’t continue.

With a heavy heart she advised he shouldn’t leave the child unprotected and that the mother’s reputation would chase her all her life if she started showing without being married. Even though that she had feelings for Tommy, she couldn’t be the reason between he and his baby. And as much as he made his own rules, society wasn’t ready yet for a children to grow apart from their father, even if he didn’t love the mother.

At least they weren’t officially together when Grace announced her pregnancy, so it was supposed to be easier. Whatever that meant.

He apologized a million times, paced the room from side to side in an attempt to calm himself. But it changed nothing, he had to do the right thing and deal with the consequences of his decisions.

Tommy didn’t have feelings for Grace, she knew it, he was clear about that but she thought eventually after getting married and raising a child together she thought feelings would start to show up, that he’d fall in love with Grace and forget about her for good.

At some point she suspected Grace got pregnant on purpose and let the infertility issue drop so Tommy would step up for her child, like a prophesy he was caught up between his feelings for her and Grace’s unborn child, his sense of responsibility and lack of paternal figure won and Tommy took Grace under his protection, even heard they were planning a wedding after the baby was born. And in the end she was right, Grace had lied about the paternity and the mask finally fell.

“Talk to me, ey?” Tommy’s voice brought her back into reality.

“I knew she was fooling you.” She shook her head.

“Hey, look at me… let’s forget about that, yeah?”

“Just like that? And what about all the times I cried?” She slapped his arm. “What if you never found out about the truth?”

A lump installed in her throat, all of the things that could’ve happened crossed her mind.

“Let’s focus on what’s happening.” Tommy’s hand caressed her cheek carefully, he could see all of her emotions in her eyes. “I probably don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I know deep in your heart you can’t hold onto to that forever.”

He was standing right in front of her, with his eyes full of hope, but also worried that it would be late for them, in the few months they got separated because of Grace’s pregnancy they cut all kinds of commutation, and even though he still checked on her, Y/N knew it was for the best, they wouldn’t have an affair no matter what.

“So… you’re free?” She asked with her voice and her heart trembling, thinking of the possibilities.

“It’s over now, there’s no child and no woman between us.” Tommy assured her, his hands on her cheeks to force Y/N to look him in the eyes. “I ordered the maid to pack her bags, and the driver to take her somewhere else.”

He took another small step towards her, their bodies touching and their breaths mixing in the middle.

This new reality changed everything, yet somehow it all felt the same.

“It took me a couple of months to learn the truth, but all I need to know now is… do you still want us to be together?”

Even though they were alone, his voice was just a whisper, a secret between just the two of them.

The thought of her finding someone else crossed his mind, she was beautiful after all, no doubt a long queue of men would be happy to take his place. But could she give her heart away to someone else?

“What about the wedding?”

Although she tried to forget about him and didn’t want to know anything of their lives, she overheard the rumors, there was a big wedding planned for the next fall right after the baby was born.

“If the baby isn’t mine… why would I still marry her? The wedding is canceled. I know I messed up, but I need to know, if there’s still a chance for us?”

Tommy held Y/N’s hands in his, when he decided to step back from their courtship it broke his heart, he had been really looking forward to see where they’d go.

Tommy felt his heart beating hard, he really hoped learning the truth wasn’t so late for them.

“Yes. I do… do you want the same?”

Tommy released the air he had been holding in his chest, but instead of answering with his words, he let her know with his actions what he wanted.

Grabbing her head with both hands, he pulled Y/N for a slow kiss. He needed to believe it was really happening.

Feeling like he had been walking in the dessert for a long time, but he was finally home. He was finally able to do what he had wanted for so long.

Tommy decided he wanted to savor her slowly, without rushing, without hesitation.

There was nothing and nobody between them. Nothing that would keep them apart. Cherishing having her in his arms once more, he could taste her tears in his lips.

“Thank you, thank you.” He murmured against her mouth without breaking apart.

The kiss became more heated by the moment, it was intense and demanding, trying to make up for the lost time. As Tommy’s hand traveled down her thigh, she pressed both hands against his chest to stop him.

It was suddenly so much information in such a short period of time.

“Wait.” Y/N stated breaking the contact, Tommy stared at her disheveled hair and messed lipstick. God she was the most beautiful little thing. “I’m glad you realized the truth before it was too late… but you will have to talk to my grandma, she’s still mad at you.”

Tommy nodded profusely. “Will do.” And tried to kiss Y/N again, but she stopped him by placing a fingertip against his lips.

“And you’ll ask her blessing to ask me out properly again.” She stated firmly.

God he loved to see her like that, bossing him around it was such a turn on.

“Yes. Anything you want.” He tried to sneak his hands around her waist again.

“Who is that, Y/N?” Her grandmother asked from her bedroom.

Scandalized, Y/N covered Tommy’s mouth with her palms. “It’s Vanessa grandma, she needed something. Go back to sleep.”

Tommy used her distraction to pull her closer, he didn’t want to waste more time. Being away from her for a couple of months was enough.

“Ugh it’s past bedtime now, couldn’t it wait?”

Tommy chuckled when she tried to get away from his hands.

“I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.” She tried to push him but it was impossible his hands were like a lock around her.

“Can’t wait for you to take care of me, love.” He wriggled his eyebrows and licked his lips all while giving her a mischievous look.

“Stop it!” She hissed, worried that her grandma would return. “You’ve to go.”

“No.” Tommy stated firmly. Scared that she’d change her mind. “I’m not leaving you again.”

“Tommy I mean for tonight.” Y/N explained, but he shook his head.

“How do I make you understand that I’m not going anywhere?”

“You can’t sleep here.” He stole another kiss.

“Fine. I’ll sleep in the car.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Y/N frowned seeing he was determined to do so. “Oh my God, you actually mean that.”

“I need you to understand how serious I am about us. You’re all that I need.” He could now see it all so clear, he was willing to do anything for her.

Because only when you really love a woman you’re able to understand.

And by just one look in his eyes, she knew he was telling the truth.

Y/N could hardly process what was happening. Their relationship ended right before it could even start because another woman was pregnant with his child, then they found out the truth, their engagement was called off, Grace was out of his life and he was able to finally do what he really wanted and not do something to please anyone else.

“What plans did you have for these days?” He whispered, still holding Y/N close.

Y/N closed her eyes for a moment, shaking her head. “Just grandma and me and I’m cooking a little dinner.”

“How about you and your grandma spend the holidays at my place? Think about it.”

The shock of his plans made her open her eyes wide. They were just starting over, how would they spend the holidays together? That was everything but traditional. What would people say? That one day he was engaged to another woman and the next one he brought home a different girl.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Tommy could read it all over her eyes. “And honestly? I don’t care, we’re doing nothing wrong and it’s none of their business.”

“Let’s take one step at the time, yes?” Y/N proposed feeling more worried about her grandmother’s reaction.

It was crazy to give in so easily, yes. But what options did she have? Pretend to still be mad at him or turn things over and be happy finally?

“Try to get some sleep.” He showered her face with kisses before grabbing his coat and walking outside. “Goodnight love.”

From the window, Y/N saw him climbing in the back seat, he was really going to sleep there!

That was insane, but it was a small sacrifice he’d have to do after everything that happened.

A/N: thank you for reading! I know in today’s world you’d say oh they could still be together while Grace had the baby or he could always take a DNA test, but remember back then those things weren’t possible and this story is based in that period of time… if you want to leave a comment your feedback is always appreciated! ♥️✨

Edit- please don’t come at me, it was just an idea that crossed my mind, the possibility of Charlie not being Tommy’s son due to the bad timing in the series 🫢🤔

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[lol-jackles]

Hello,

It’s nice to see you more active on here at the moment.

I was thinking about how you tend to say that the bi-bros who lean towards Sam are more in line with the GA.

But, I watch lots of reactors watch SPN for the first time, and they often lean towards Dean (I’d say 3/5), and I’ve heard a similar ratio say that they think Jensen is a noticeably better actor than Jared.

So, my questions are, are they letting fan expectations colour their reactions (hellers and Dean girls are very fast to pounce on new reactors), are they already Destiel curious from seeing edits in tumblr (I know of at least one who fits this), or do they acquaint “they make me feel emotional therefore they are the best actor”?

For me personally, on my first watch, Dean killed me with his love for family and Sammy and I empathized more with him usually, at least until Season 4/5 where he started pissing me off regularly. But, when I rewatch, I love episodes like Mystery Spot and Born Under a Bad Sign, or Souless Sam episodes because Jared is just so good when he gets something interesting to do. I find the Dean crying stuff less compelling on rewatches because it’s not as interesting to me (with a few expectations) after the first and second viewing. And acting at mirrors scenes gets old for me in particular very quickly.

In short, I think both are good, with different strengths, but I wonder why so many new viewers that I come across see Jensen as being stronger and Dean as being better. Do the just fail to see past the narrative bias? Or they just like Sean because he’s more fun?

Anyway, I appreciate any thoughts you want to share on this. And I’m also wondering if there is stats anywhere in GA favoring Sam?

First, because Sam girls commit “geek social fallacies” by also liking Dean because they love that Dean revolves around their Sammy. But Dean/Jensen stans don’t return the favor because they hate that Dean revolves around his Sammy so they hate on Sammy even though under their breath they’ve said if Jensen had been playing Sammy all along they wouldn’t change any of the writing.  That’s why there appears to be a Dean bias in the SPN fandom because Sam fans also likes Dean.  

It’s not a coincidence that Sam girls are the fandom’s official representative (all the meta fans on the show are Sam fans).   The show is mostly Sam-centric, if the bitter Sam girls won’t believe me then believe Jensen’s interviews when he said that SPN is Sam-centric and called season 10 a "rare Dean-centric storyline". (X)

Second, Dean is supposed to be a scene stealer, that's what support-protagonist do.  Often our favorite characters are not the protagonist but these scene stealers characters, they are usually cool or very funny. But it becomes a problem when producers try to capitalize on the character’s popularity, like creating a spin-off.   Like spices, which can not take the place of the main course, scene stealers often fail as leads because their “special-ness” evaporates when they have to carry the show. It's why WB canceled Supernatural when Jared told them he was leaving, because they knew a Dean-led Supernatural wouldn't work.

So while I'm watching an episode, I am more drawn to Dean because he’s more fun or interesting to watch. However the next day I remember the episode through Sam’s actions and interactions. Some of my readers tell me that they were surprised that they seem to “forget” Dean when they recall specific storylines, I said that’s supposed to happen with the support-protagonist.  We don't remember much of what John Watson did in the classic Sherlock Holmes or what was Nick Carraway's deal in The Great Gatsby.

It's the protagonist who mobilizes the story and stands out in readers’ or audiences’ minds.  Dean needs interaction with Sam in order for the audience to even remember him because he's part of the protagonist’s story. It’s why I keep saying Supernatural is Sam’s story, it's his Hero’s Journey.   Dean is at his best when he’s focused on Sam (which is why season 10 sucked and season 5 was kind of weak).

Third, Jensen is a personality actor and people are generally more drawn to them. Jared is a character actor who is trapped in a leading man role. Jensen has been Jensen “Dean Winchester” Ackles for the majority of his TV and movie roles since 1998.  It’s why Jensen initially made a bigger splash with Dean in the early Supernatural seasons because he’s already been playing Dean for years since Days of Our Lives.  In 2005 when SPN premiered, Jensen had a 7 years head start playing Dean compared to Jared who was just starting to play Sam and had to create Sam from scratch.  By season 3, audiences began to notice Jared's versatile acting skills and he would soon be tasked with playing different characters because that's what character actors do.

[nevertrustanoracle]

The HELM starts crashing and I’m immediately crying “*gasp* Captain Jacobson! Not the frog! 😱”

Not worried about anyone else, just the frog.

[lemonynuggets]

nothing like a day of almost passing out since the moment you wake up because it’s extremely hot and you have to do housework

[cumironi]

I CAN F☆CK TREAT YOU BETTER g. satoru

☆ sum. you and gojo were all alone, no geto around, just the two of you— all alone, in the bed, kissing, make out under the glisten of the dim lights, under the blanket.

warning. established relationship au, fem! reader, pet names, nipple-plāy, unprotected sēx, gojo is jealous because you love geto’s broodiness, i need thissssss

there is one thing about you that your two boyfriends never get used to, even though you’ve spent years dating: whenever one of them goes on a mission for a few days and it’s just you with one of them, you become a different person. you’re more clingy, more affectionate, more romantic and sweet, making them fall in love with you all over again.

just like right now, you were laying on your side, face to face with gojo. it was just the two of you for a few days before geto had to leave for a mission, which meant you both had a lot of time to enjoy each other’s company.

the two of you didn’t say anything, just looking into each other's eyes, your cheeks flushed against the soft pillow under the gentle blue light of the moon. the quiet moment wrapped around you like a warm blanket, and you couldn’t help but smile at the way his gaze held a mix of adoration and curiosity. it was in these moments that you felt the most connected, and the world outside seemed to fade away.

you reached out, fingers brushing against his cheek, marveling at the way his expression shifted, softening as he leaned into your touch. “you know, i could get used to this,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. gojo chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

gojo found himself lost in the depths of your eyes, captivated by their warmth and tenderness. he let out a soft sigh, his fingertips tracing patterns on the bare skin of your arm, relishing the sensation of closeness between the two of you.

he chuckled at your words, his hand moving from your arm to the side of your neck, his thumb tracing soft circles against your jawline. “you get so clingy when it’s just us,” he teased, a playful smirk on his lips. “are you complaining?” you asked, tilting your head slightly to meet his gaze, a hint of mischief dancing in your eyes.

“absolutely not,” he replied, his smirk widening as he shifted closer, the tips of both your noses just barely touching. his fingertips grazed the top of your cheekbone, his gaze never leaving yours.

“in fact, i quite like it,” he continued, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “it’s like i get to see a side of you that’s meant just for me. and that’s a privilege i’m not gonna take for granted.” gojo’s eyes flicked over your face, studying the way the soft moonlight illuminated your features. the two of you were so close that he could see every small detail of your expression, each flutter of your eyelashes, each subtle shift in your expression.

he couldn’t help but be captivated by you, by the way you responded to his touch, by the way you looked at him with such open affection. he leaned in just a little bit closer, his breath fanning across your lips. “you know,” he began, a hint of teasing in his voice, “if suguru was here, i wouldn’t get to have you all to myself,” he finished, his hand moving to brush a stray strand of hair out of your face, his fingers lingering on the soft skin of your cheek.

a small, almost possessive smile played at the corners of his lips as he leaned in closer still, his forehead touching yours, his nose brushing against yours. “and i’m kinda selfish when it comes to you.”

you chuckle, feigning a pout as you replied teasingly, “well, you know, i can give just as much attention to one of you without the other sulking and pouting about it.” you mutter between your smile. the tip of your index finger poking his dimple.

gojo chuckled at your teasing, his smirk only growing wider. “oh really?” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly. “you’re telling me you could give us both equal attention without playing favorites?” he leaned into your touch, his dimple indenting a bit more as you poked it. “i’m pretty sure i’ve seen the way your eyes light up whenever suguru walks into a room. you’d always choose him over me.”

you couldn’t help but chuckle, scrunching your nose playfully at his accusation. your fingers danced lightly over his chest, tickling him just faintly as you replied, “it’s not my fault that suguru is so dreamy and handsome and soft!” you flashed him a teasing grin, enjoying the way his expression shifted, a mix of amusement and mock jealousy. “i mean, can you blame me? he has that whole brooding look down to a science,” you added with a dramatic sigh.

gojo let out a mock gasp, pretending to be offended. “oh, so that’s how it is? you like geto more because he’s brooding and brooding is attractive?” he feigned a pout for a moment before his smirk returned, his hand moving down from your neck to rest on your hip, his fingers drumming against the skin. “well, you know what? i can brood too, you know. i can be serious and intense.” he leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping another octave. “can geto do this?”

and before you could respond, gojo’s lips were on yours in a searing kiss. it was a possessive kiss, his hand gripping your hip tighter as his tongue flicked against your bottom lip, seeking entrance. he pressed into you, his body almost fully on top of yours as he deepened the kiss, his free hand finding its way into your hair, tangling among the strands.

he broke the kiss, but only to kiss down the side of your jaw and down your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. he sucked on your pulse point, his teeth grazing against it, his hand on your hip moving up your side to lightly brush against the underside of your breast.

gojo’s fingers brushed over the sensitive skin of your jawline as he pulls away, his touch sending shivers down your spine. he shift back onto his sides before continued to gaze at you with an intense, brooding look, his eyes locked onto yours.

“i can brood just as well as he can,” he said again, his voice still soft. “maybe even better. i just choose not to, because i think it’s more fun to make you laugh.” he leaned in even closer, his nose brushing against yours, his breath hot against your lips. “so, have i won you over yet? am i brooding enough for you?” a warm smile coloring his handsome face.

you couldn’t help but giggle at his faux broodiness, your heart fluttering at the way he was trying so hard to be serious and sexy.

you reached up a hand, cupping his cheek as you studied his expression, his sharp features framed by the moonlight. “oh, definitely,” you replied, your tone playful and lighthearted. “i don’t think i can handle that brooding stare of yours. it’s just too intense.” you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, your thumb caressing the high line of his cheekbone.

“but,” you added, a sly smirk playing at your lips, “i might need a little more convincing. just to be sure.” your hand moves down from gojo’s cheek to his chest, your fingers brushing against the firm muscle hidden beneath his shirt. your touch is light, teasing, your fingertips tracing circles over his pecks.

“you know,” you continued, your voice lower now, “i think you’re being a bit too clothed for this little demonstration.” you glanced down, noting the way his shirt was still very much on, preventing you from fully appreciating his toned physique.

gojo’s eyes darkened at your words, a smirk tugging at his lips. “too clothed, huh?” he repeated, his hands immediately going to the hem of his shirt. he pulled it off in a swift, fluid motion, flinging it carelessly onto the floor. the moonlight illuminated the planes of his chest and abdomen, his muscles flexing under your gaze.

your eyes roamed shamelessly over the expanse of his bare torso, taking in the dips and curves of his muscles. it wasn’t the first time you’d seen him naked, not by a long shot, but the sight of him like this always seemed to make your heart race. you reached out, your hand tracing a slow, languid path down his chest and stomach, following the sculpted ridges that disappeared beneath the waistband of his joggers.

gojo chuckled, the sound deep and rich in his throat. “you like what you see, huh?” he teased, his fingers wrapping around your wrist, pinning your hand to his chest. he shifted closer to you, his breath warm against your neck. “well,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, “i think you’re being a bit too clothed as well.”

a shiver ran down your spine as gojo’s breath ghosted over your neck, his words sending a spark of anticipation through your body. you tilted your head, exposing more of your skin to his teasing touch, your eyes fluttering shut as you relished in the feeling of his lips grazing against your ear.

“oh, am i?” you replied, your tone lilting with playful coyness. “i suppose you’ll have to do something about that then.” gojo smirked, taking the hint as he slowly pushed you back onto the bed, his body caging you in as he leaned over you.

his hands were everywhere, skating over your arms and your sides, skimming over the edges of your clothes, fingers tracing over every curve. he reached your shirt, his fingers catching on the hem. he tugged at it, pulling it up over your stomach and ribcage, revealing more and more of your skin.

he leaned down, his lips trailing kisses down your stomach, his mouth warm and soft against your skin. he moved lower, his hands sliding the rest of your shirt up and over your head, casting it to the side. his mouth followed, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the slope of your breast, his teeth grazing over the fabric of your bra. he reached around your back, his fingers hooking into the hooks of your bra. dextrous fingers nimbly work to undo the fastening.

as gojo’s mouth and tongue lavished your body, his hands worked to free you from the confines of your bra. you arched your back, your breath coming in soft gasps, your body responding to his every touch. he was gentle but insistent, his fingers moving with practiced ease, like he had been doing this for years. he took his time, but not too much time, his hands slipping the straps off your arms.

gojo’s mouth was on your skin again, his lips and tongue exploring the newly exposed flesh of your chest and stomach. he moved lower, planting soft kisses along your stomach, each touch sending shivers of desire down your spine. his hands skimmed over the curve of your hips, his fingers hooking into the edges of your pants, his mouth still moving over your skin, his teeth lightly nipping and biting at the sensitive spots he knew drives you crazy.

one by one, he undid the buttons and zipper of your pants, his hands slipping them down over your hips, taking your panties down with them. they were tossed onto the floor without a thought, his hands quickly moving back up your legs, his touch light and teasing, dancing just shy of where you wanted them to be.

gojo’s hands glided over your legs, his touch a tantalizing combination of feather-light and firm. he was taking his time, prolonging the anticipation, his lips moving back up your body, his mouth leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses all the way up to your neck. his body was almost flush against yours, his arms bracketing your head, his weight bearing down just enough to keep you trapped under him.

you push yourself in your elbows, pushing gojo’s head away to meet his lips. your hand runs around his chest to his nape, brushing your fingers to his undercut. the kiss was slow, deliberate, no lust or hunger like you pour all of your love for him.

as your lips meet in a slow, loving kiss, gojo melts into it, his tongue sliding between your lips to deepen the contact. he lets out a soft moan, the sound muffled by your mouth, his hand moving to cup the side of your jaw, his fingertips tracing gentle circles against your skin.

he tilts his head, his nose brushing against yours, his body pressing closer, his chest flush against yours. there’s a tenderness in the way he’s kissing you, an affectionate adoration that pours out from every fiber of his being.

gojo breaks the kiss, pulling back just enough to look down at you, his eyes soft and sparkling in the dim moonlight. he traces his thumb over the soft skin of your cheek, his touch gentle and almost reverent. “you know,” he says, his voice quieter now, a hint of teasing still present in his tone, “you didn’t let me finish my demonstration.”

you chuckle, scrunching your nose out of a habit while you let your hand caressing his neck to his bare chest. “forget the demonstration, let’s just cuddle,” you murmur, “a naked one,” you added before giggling. gojo chuckled at your response, the sound deep and rich in his throat, his eyes sparkling with affection and amusement. he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before rolling onto his side, pulling you close against him, your body molding against his.

his arms encircled you, pulling you tight against his chest, his hand tracing lazy patterns on your back. “i suppose a naked cuddle is an acceptable alternative,” he teased, his voice low and affectionate. he nuzzled against your hair, burying his face in your neck. “you’re such a distraction, you know.”

you shook your head with a soft chuckle, gently pushing gojo’s face away from your neck. “i wanna see your face,” you murmured, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you held his gaze. your hand rested against his cheek, your thumb brushing against his skin as you smiled warmly at him. “wanna see my boyfriend,” you said softly, taking in his face, appreciating the quiet intimacy.

gojo’s heart swelled at your words, a soft, almost shy smile spreading across his face. he leaned into your touch, his eyes never leaving yours, his expression softening with each caress of your thumb against his skin.

“you’re such a sap,” he teased, his voice dripping with affection. he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you even tighter against him, his free hand coming up to brush a strand of hair out of your face. “i’m right here,” he murmured, his gaze locking with yours. “right where you want me to be.”

you hummed softly, the sound barely audible as the two of you lay there, lost in each other’s gaze. the room was filled with a quiet, intimate stillness, your cheek flushed against the soft pillow, while gojo’s warm presence enveloped you completely.

gojo’s fingers traced patterns on your back as the two of you lay together, his eyes lazily tracing the contours of your face, his fingers dancing over the dip of your waist before moving up to trace your jawline. there was no rush, no urgency, just the slow, languid movement of his hands against your skin, the quiet rhythm of your breathing filling the room. he leaned in slightly, his lips brushing against your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. “you have no idea how much i love these moments with you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

you hummed softly again, letting the warmth of the moment wash over you as gojo shifted slightly, settling onto his side to mirror your position. his cheek pressed into the pillow, and his bright blue eyes stayed fixed on yours, filled with that familiar mix of affection and playfulness.

your fingertips gently tugged a few strands of his hair behind his ear, then trailed across his scalp, eliciting a quiet sigh from him. your voice was barely audible as you murmured, “i love your eyes,” your thumb softly brushing over his temple.

a soft smile tugged at the corners of gojo’s lips as he leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut momentarily at the sensation of your fingers in his hair. he nuzzled against your hand, his cheek pressing firmly against your palm, his expression relaxing further. “do you now?” he replied, his tone lilting with teasing. “what is it about them that you love so much?” his eyes fluttered open, meeting yours once again, a sparkle of mischief in their depths.

you hummed in confirmation, your voice gentle as your fingertips continued to glide softly over his scalp. “it’s beautiful,” you whispered, your tone sincere. “like i’m looking at the open sky, like i’m drowning in a warm ocean. it’s warm… it’s like summer.”

your words left gojo momentarily stunned. his usually confident, playful demeanor faltered as he stared at you, his eyes wide with disbelief. nobody had ever told him they loved his eyes, not for anything other than the immense power they held. but here you were, speaking so simply, so earnestly, about them.

gojo was silent for a moment, his heart swelling in his chest at the honesty and vulnerability in your words, his mind struggling to process the raw emotion in your voice.

he exhaled slowly, a soft, shaky breath slipping past his lips. no one had ever described his eyes like that before. to everyone else, they were a tool, a symbol of power, a weapon. but to you, they were something beautiful, something warm and comforting. he reached up, his hand cups your cheek, his thumb tracing a gentle path over your lips.

“you’re really something else, you know that?” he murmured, his voice soft and filled with a mix of awe and tenderness. he shifted closer to you, his chest pressing against yours, his leg slipping between yours. he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you tightly against him, burying his face in your neck. “you always say the most unexpected things,” he continued, his lips skimming against your skin, his breath hot and warm against your collarbone. “and you always leave me speechless.”

you gently pushed him away, just enough to create a bit of space between you, your fingers lightly pressing against his chest. “no, no, no,” you murmured, shaking your head with a soft laugh. “come on, don’t do that. i wanna see you.”

your eyes searched his, wanting to keep that connection, to see the emotion that flickered across his face whenever you said something unexpected. your fingers found their way back to his jawline, tracing the contours of his face as you gave him a small, playful smile. “i don’t like it when you hide,” you added softly, your thumb grazing over his bottom lip.

as you gently pushed him back and your fingers traced his jawline, gojo chuckled softly, his smile a mix of amusement and affection. he leaned back just enough to let you see his face, his eyes tracing over every feature, drinking you in.

your words linger in his ears, his heart swelling with a mix of emotions. “i wasn’t hiding,” he protested, his tone lighthearted. “i was snuggling.” he couldn’t help but smile at your playfulness, his hand moving to caress your side, his fingers skating over the curve of your hip.

“you just make it so difficult to not bury my face in your neck,” he continued, his voice taking on a slightly more serious tone. “every time you say things like that, it sets my heart racing, and all i want to do is get closer, closer, closer.”

he pulled you flush against him, his body molding to yours, his arms wrapping around you like a tight embrace. he buried his head in the crook of your neck again, pressing his lips against your skin, inhaling your scent.

you groaned softly in protest, your hands coming up to gently push at his chest again. “oh, come on,” you whined playfully, your voice carrying a hint of frustration. “i said i want to see your face, not have you hide in my neck.”

gojo chuckled again, the sound muffled against your neck as he buried his face deeper into the crook. he knew he was being petulant and stubborn, but he couldn’t help it. he loved being close to you, the feeling of your body against his, your scent filling his lungs. “but it’s so comfortable here,” he protested, his voice a low rumble against your skin. “and you smell so good. and you’re so warm.”

you tried to tilt his head up, your fingers threading through his hair, but gojo only chuckled, tightening his hold on you. “just a little longer,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin, clearly enjoying how much you were trying to pull him away.

gojo was clearly enjoying your struggle, his arms unyielding as he held onto you with a smirk on his face. he nuzzled against your neck, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke, his voice low and teasing. “just a little longer,” he repeated, his voice filled with faux innocence. “i’m not tired yet. and you'’e so warm and soft, it would be wasteful to not take advantage of it.”

he shifted slightly, adjusting his position so that he was lying halfway on top of you, his body completely covering yours, his weight pushing you down into the softness of the bed. “besides,” he murmured, his lips skimming over your jawline. “i think you secretly like having me pressed against you like this.”

you groaned, feigning annoyance, but wrapped your arms around his neck anyway, pulling him closer. “don’t flatter yourself,” you muttered, your lips brushing against his ear, though the smile on your face betrayed your playful mood. as you glanced down at his bare form, your eyes caught sight of his rear, and you couldn’t help but chuckle. without thinking, your hands slid down his back, and before he could react, you grabbed a handful of his cheeks, giving them a playful squeeze.

gojo’s eyes widened in surprise, a sharp intake of breath hissing through his teeth at your unexpected squeeze. he let out a yelp, the sound a mix of surprise and mild outrage. “hey!” he protested, lifting his head and looking down at you with amused indignation. “warn a guy next time!” he exclaimed through a laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners. he shifted slightly, his body moving into a more comfortable position atop yours, a playful smirk spreading across his lips.

you burst into laughter, unable to contain your amusement. “it’s not my fault!” you teased, still chuckling. “it was just there, looking at me.” you punctuated your words with another playful taps on his rear, the sound light but cheeky.

gojo rolled his eyes, a mix of mock annoyance and amusement in his expression. he propped himself up on his arms, a sly smile playing on his lips as he looked down at you. “oh, so it’s my fault for having a perfectly shaped backside?” he teased, arching an eyebrow, his arms caging you in. “i think you’re just trying to cop a feel whenever you get the chance.”

you raised your eyebrows, a playful smirk on your face. “perfect?” you echoed, giving his ass another teasing squeeze. “more like flat! if i squeeze it, it feels like a bag of airbags!”you couldn’t help but laugh at the look of mock horror that crossed his face, and you leaned back against the pillows, clearly enjoying this banter. “seriously, baby, you need to work on that if you want to maintain your ‘perfect’ reputation!”

gojo’s eyes widened comically, his brows shooting up to his forehead. “airbags?!”he sputtered, his tone incredulous. “my ass is not bags of airbags, it's firm and toned and well-defined!” he feigned offense, a dramatic pout crossing his face as he pretended to be deeply wounded by your insult. “do you know how many squats i do? how many leg days i put in? this is an insult to my hard work and dedication!”

he leaned back, lifting his hips up so you could see the full expanse of his rear. “look at it! look at the muscle tone, the symmetry, the perfection,” he exclaimed, gesturing broadly. his tone was laced with playful sarcasm, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he glanced down at you. “surely you’re not blind. you must see how flawlessly sculpted it is.”

you hummed thoughtfully as you looked at his rear, pretending to admire it. then, with a swift motion, you gave him a playful spank, laughing as you looked up at him. “yeah, flatass!” you teased, your voice light and filled with mischief.

gojo let out another exaggerated gasp, the sound filled with fake shock and indignation. he placed a hand over his heart, his expression one of mock hurt. “flatass?!” he exclaimed, feigning disbelief. “after all the hard work i put into sculpting this masterpiece? you wound me, babe. you truly wound me.” he leaned back down, his chest pressing against yours again, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “i’ll have you know, my behind is a work of art. a masterpiece of the human form.”

he leaned down, bringing his face close to yours, his expression still one of mock outrage, though his eyes sparkled with mirth. “i think you need to show me some appreciation, apologize for that baseless disparagement of my very well-maintained behind,” he teased, his voice dropping to a low rumble.

“baseless disparagement!?” gojo repeated, a hint of indignation in his voice. “i’ve never seen a more shameless display of disrespect. my backside deserves respect and admiration. and you, dear one, owe me payment for the slander you have inflicted upon it.”

he leaned down even closer, his lips hovering just above yours, his eyes darkened with desire. “and i demand a proper apology. a thorough, passionate one.” your heartbeat quickened at the low rumble of his voice, a shiver running down your spine as he hovered over you. his proximity and the way his eyes sparkled with mischief made it hard to resist.

“oh, is that so?” you replied, feigning mock ignorance. “and how exactly do you want me to express this appreciation? a kiss? a squeeze? too bad suguru wasn’t here to back me up.”

gojo chuckled, his eyes filled with laughter as he shifted slightly, his body pressing even closer to yours. “now now, no bringing up my best friend while we’re having an intimate moment. that's cheating.” he leaned down, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “i think a sincere apology, one that involves your hands expressing their remorse, would suffice. and perhaps a few kisses, just to drive the point home, naturally.”

you raised your eyebrows, a playful smirk on your lips as you murmured, “yeah?” your fingers trailed slowly down his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. you reach lower, brushing your fingers to his happy trails and feeling his hardness pressing against your thigh.

you leaned in closer, your voice teasingly soft. “and what exactly do you want from me, oh great master of the flat ass?” your hand continued to explore, relishing the way his body reacted to your touch, eager to see how far you'd push this playful moment.

gojo chuckled again, his breath hot against your neck as he felt your fingers trailing down his chest, his body responding to your touch instinctively. he shifted slightly, arching his back as your fingers moved lower, a soft gasp escaping his lips as he felt your touch on his happy trail.

he leaned down, his lips ghosting over your ear again, his voice a deep, rumbling murmur. “i want you to show your appreciation, darling. show me just how much you admire this apparent ’flat ass’ of mine.”

you murmured softly in his ear, your breath warm against his skin, “oh, i can definitely do that.” your lips brushed lightly against the shell of his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

with a sly smile, you pulled the cover over the both of you, wrapping yourselves in the warmth of the blanket. gojo chuckled, his grin widening as he realized your playful intent. “hiding, huh?” he teased, his voice low and amused as the blanket enveloped your naked both, creating a cozy cocoon around your entwined bodies. “i like where this is going.”

gojo’s heart raced as the blanket enveloped you both, his body instantly warmed by the close proximity of yours. he could feel your skin against his, your breath on his neck, the playful anticipation thrumming through his veins. he chuckled again, his smile matching your own as his hands roamed, exploring the curves of your body beneath the cover. “i can see where this is headed, naughty girl,” he teased, his voice a deep rumble in his chest.

he leaned in, his lips finding your neck, nibbling and kissing the sensitive skin there. his hands continued to roam, his touch a tantalizing mixture of firm and gentle as they explored your body with a possessive quality.

he shifted his position slightly, his body settling between your legs, his weight pressing against you as he hovered above you, the cover hiding your bodies from view. “you sure know how to play dirty,” he murmured, his voice filled with mischief and desire.

your arms wrapped around his broad shoulder, pulling him impossibly close to your naked body, his body curling around yours. a low chuckle rumbled in his chest, his chest brushing against yours.

“hiding? me? never.” you teased, his voice filled with amusement as you let out a soft moan. “just creating a little private sanctuary for us, away from the judgmental eyes of the world." you leaned in, breathe warmly against his shoulder, your teeth gently nipping at his shoulder. “just the two of us and this cozy blanket cocoon. just the two of us, no suguru. us.”

gojo grinned, his teeth nipping back at your shoulder, a playful growl escaping his throat. “a private sanctuary, hm?” he mused, his voice low and sultry as his hands slid down to grip your hips, pulling you closer into his embrace. “well then, i suppose we should make the most of our privacy.”

his lips trailed lower, kissing along your collarbone before planting a series of kisses across your chest, each one landing with more pressure than the last. he suckled gently on your nipple, teasing the hardened peak with his tongue, his hands still holding onto your hips firmly. “and don’t worry about suguru,” he whispered huskily, his voice vibrating against your skin. “i promise not to tell.”

the sensation of gojo’s mouth on your skin sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making your toes curl underneath the covers. a soft gasp escaped your lips, your head falling back onto the pillow as he lavished attention on your breasts.

“mmm...” you hummed, arching your back slightly, pushing your chest further into his mouth. “that’s exactly what i was hoping for.” your hands moved down to his waist, slipping under the covers to explore the contours of his strong, toned body. your fingers traced the lines of muscle, feeling the ridges and dips of his abdomen, before eventually reaching lower, towards his throbbing member.

gojo’s eyes darkened with lust as he felt your fingers trail down his stomach, inching closer to his aching erection. a low groan rumbled in his chest, his hips involuntarily bucking up into your touch.

“careful now, naughty girl,” he warned, his voice thick with desire. “you’re playing with fire.” despite his words, he didn't stop you, instead, guiding your hand to wrap around his hard length, his breath hitching as your fingers closed around him.

he began to move, thrusting into your grip as he continued to lavish attention on your breasts, alternating between sucking and biting the tender flesh. his free hand slid down to join yours, helping to pump himself in time with your strokes. “fuck, you feel so good,” he muttered, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with raw hunger and need.

the sound of his voice, laced with desire, sent another wave of heat rushing through your body. your grip tightened around his cock, stroking him slowly, deliberately, wanting to draw out every moan and gasp from his lips.

“you’re so hard...” you purred, leaning up to capture his lips in a searing kiss. your tongue danced with his, the taste of him filling your senses. you broke the kiss, panting heavily, your cheeks flushed with arousal. your eyes lock with his blue eyes, glow slightly under the cover.

gojo’s eyes glowed faintly beneath the cover, a sign of his growing excitement. his breathing became heavier, his muscles tensing as your skilled hand worked his shaft. he kissed you back fiercely, his tongue dominating yours, claiming your mouth as his own.

“hard for you,” he breathed when the kiss broke, his voice rough with need. “always so fucking hard for you.” he pushed your hand away suddenly, pinning both of your wrists above your head with one large hand. he positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock nudging your slick folds. “tell me you want it,” he demanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

your breath hitched as he positioned himself at your entrance, your body quivering with anticipation. you arched your hips upwards, seeking more contact, craving the feel of him inside you.

“i want it,” you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper, “i want you, baby. i want you, slow and gentle, i want to savor you, making love to me.”

your legs wrapped around his waist, urging him closer, silently begging him to fill you completely. your fingers curled into the sheets above you, your nails digging into the fabric as you waited for him to take you, to claim you as his own. your eyes bored into his, reflecting the same intense hunger that burned within them. your hand cupping his cheek gently, full of adoration and tenderness.

gojo’s expression softened at your words, his eyes shining with a mix of love and desire. he leaned into your touch, pressing a tender kiss to your palm before releasing your wrists and settling his weight on top of you.

“slow and gentle,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “anything for you, my love.” he captured your lips in a deep, passionate kiss as he slowly pushed forward, sheathing himself inside you inch by delicious inch. a low groan tore from his throat at the feeling of your tight warmth enveloping him, his eyes fluttering shut momentarily.

when he opened them again, they were filled with adoration and devotion, mirroring the emotions swirling in your own gaze. he began to move, his thrusts measured and controlled, taking his time to savor every moment of your union.

the sensation of being filled by him, slowly and deeply, was overwhelming. your body trembled with pleasure, your inner walls clenching around his cock as he moved within you.

“baby..” you whimpered, your head thrown back in ecstasy. your hands roamed over his back, tracing the contours of his muscles, feeling the ripple and flex beneath your fingertips. each stroke, each movement, brought you closer to the edge. you could see the love in his eyes, the care and concern reflected there, even amidst the lust and desire. it made your heart swell, made you love him even more.

“don’t stop...” you pleaded, your voice ragged with need, forehead pressed against his.

gojo’s pace remained steady, his movements deliberate and sensual, driven by the desperation to please you. he reveled in the way your body responded to him, the way you clung to him, the sounds of pleasure escaping your lips.

“never, my love,” he vowed, punctuating his words with a particularly deep thrust. “i’ll never stop loving you, never stop wanting you.”

he captured your lips in a heated kiss, swallowing your whimpers and pleas as he continued to make slow, passionate love to you. his free hand found its way to your breast, rolling and pinching your nipple between his fingers, adding an extra layer of stimulation to the already intense sensations.

the dual sensations of his cock moving inside you and his fingers teasing your nipples had you teetering on the brink of climax but not quite yet. your moans grew ragged, more urgent, your hips rising to meet his thrusts as you chased the impending orgasm but you try to hold yourself, wanting the moment last longer.

“i love you, satoru,” you cried out, breaking the kiss to gasp for air. your nails dug into his back, marking him as your own.

the air was thick from the lack of oxygen, filled with breathless moan, whimper and whining. it was quite dark, only the light illuminating from a slight gap. the two of you couldn’t stop whispering sweet nothing into each other’s ear.

“my love...” he gasped, his voice strained with pleasure. “my beautiful, perfect love...” he whispered, his hot breath fanning over your skin.

gojo’s grip on your breast tightened as he felt your body begin to tense, signaling your approaching climax. he increased the pressure on your sensitive nipple, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. “i love you too, my beautiful girl,” he growled, his voice husky with desire.

“keep it slow, baby, want it slow, let me hold you for a moment,” you whisper, nose nuzzling against his sweaty cheek. your arm wraps around his broad shoulder while your other hand holds his bicep.

gojo’s movements slowed even further, becoming almost languid as he savored the intimate moment with you. he rested his forehead against yours, their noses touching, sharing ragged breaths.

“forever, my love,” he promised, his voice a low rumble. “i’ll hold you forever if that’s what you want.” his hand slid down to cradle your hip, pulling you impossibly closer, their bodies melding together in a perfect fusion of flesh and soul.

tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of emotion in his words and the sheer intensity of the connection between you. you nodded, unable to speak past the lump in your throat.

in this quiet, suspended moment, you knew that whatever the future held, you would face it side by side, hand in hand, hearts entwined. the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the beauty and power of your love.

gojo brushed away the tears that escaped, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks as he gazed into your eyes. “my beautiful, tearful angel,” he whispered, a soft smile playing on his lips. “you're everything to me, now and always.”

he leaned in, capturing your mouth in a tender, loving kiss, pouring all his devotion and adoration into the gentle press of his lips against yours. in this perfect, peaceful instant, wrapped in each other’s arms, you both knew that your bond was unbreakable, a love that would endure through eternity.

your lips moved softly against his, returning the tender kiss with equal affection. your fingers intertwined with his, holding on tightly as if afraid to let go. a sense of contentment washed over you, filling you with warmth and happiness. you felt safe, loved, cherished— exactly where you belonged. “love you, satoru,” you murmured against his mouth, the words barely audible over the pounding of your hearts. “forever and always.”

your tears dried up, replaced by a warm, radiant smile. your lips parted under his, welcoming the soft, affectionate kiss. you ran your fingers through his sweat-dampened hair, holding him close. “i’m yours, completely,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, filled with so much love and commitment. your heart is beating faster, matching with his cock throbbing inside you.

gojo’s heart swelled with love and gratitude at your declaration, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. “and i’m yours, my darling,” he replied, his voice rough with emotion. “for all eternity.”

he returned your kiss with renewed passion, his tongue delving into your mouth, exploring every inch of your warmth. his free hand roamed over your curves, mapping the contours of your body as if committing them to memory. “mine,” he growled possessively, his teeth grazing your lower lip. “all mine, now and forever.”

his hips began to move again, slowly at first, then with increasing urgency as the need for release became too great to ignore. he set a relentless pace, driving into you with deep, powerful strokes, determined to bring you both to the heights of ecstasy once more.

your body arched off the bed, responding eagerly to his movements. your nails dug into his back, leaving marks of ownership as you clung to him. the pleasure was building within you, coiling tight like a spring ready to snap.

“i’m yours,” you cried out, your voice trembling with desire, “yours... —keep moving like that baby, my boy..” you moan, skating your fingers to his nape and putting a pressure there with your fingers.

the room was filled with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, mixed with your cries of pleasure and gojo’s guttural groans. your breasts bounced rhythmically with each of his thrusts, nipples hardening even further under his touch.

“that’s it, my love,” gojo panted, his voice strained with exertion and pleasure. “take all of me, every inch.” he could feel your walls fluttering around his shaft, signaling your impending climax. he redoubled his efforts, angling his hips to hit that special spot deep inside you with each thrust, determined to send you hurtling over the edge.

“come for me, my beautiful girl,” he urged, his breath hot against your ear. “let go, i’ve got you.”

one hand snaked between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing tight circles around the sensitive nub. the added stimulation proved to be your undoing, and with a keening cry, you came undone beneath him, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm.

your vision went white as the pleasure crashed over you, wave after wave of pure bliss radiating from your core. you screamed his name, your voice raw and hoarse, lost in the throes of ecstasy.

“satoru! baby, fuuuck!” you groan, feeling your inner walls clench around his hard cock. your whole body trembled and shook, overcome by the intense sensations coursing through you. you felt gojo’s cock twitch inside you, growing even harder as your walls contracted around him. you knew he was close, teetering on the brink of his own release. “cum for me baby, let me feel your love.”

gojo grunted, his hips jerking as he felt your walls clamping down on him. “fuck, that’s it,” he gasped, his body shuddering with the effort of holding back. his grip tightened on your hips, digging his fingers into your flesh as he pistoned in and out of you. he could feel his climax approaching, a tidal wave of sensation that threatened to sweep him away.

“god, you’re so fucking tight,“ he groaned, his voice thick with lust. “i’m gonna fill you up, my sweet girl. take all of me.”

you moaned loudly as gojo’s cock throbbed inside you, his hot cum filling you up. you clenched your muscles around his cock, milking him for everything he had. your body was still trembling from your own orgasm, but you managed to keep yourself upright as gojo emptied himself inside you. “so good... so fucking good.”

gojo collapsed onto you, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. “damn, you’re incredible,” he muttered, planting kisses along your neck and shoulder. he held you close, his large frame wrapping protectively around you like a cocoon. “i love you so much, my beautiful girl,” he whispered, his voice soft and full of affection.

he stayed buried inside you, not yet ready to separate their joined forms. the afterglow of their lovemaking enveloped them, making the room seem warmer, softer. you cuddled closer to gojo, your body still tingling from the intensity of your orgasms. you felt satisfied, complete, in a way that nothing else could give you.

“i love you too, satoru,” you murmured, your voice just as soft as his. “more than anything else.” you felt gojo's seed starting to leak out of you, trickling down your thighs and the bed below.

you pull the blanket off you both and take a deep breath, “finally, i can breath.”

gojo chuckled as you finally pulled back the cover, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. he rolled onto his side, pulling you with him, his arms wrapped around your waist. “you were getting all hot and bothered under there, weren’t you, my little sauna?” he teased, a playful grin on his face.

he glanced down, his eyes tracing the path of his seed leaking out of you, and he couldn't help a soft sigh escaped him. “damn, that’s a sight,” he murmured, his voice filled with a mix of desire and satisfaction. he leaned down, his lips gently brushing against your neck, his hands caressing your skin. “you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice laced with affection. “so damn perfect.”

you chuckle, frowning a little with his choice of nickname. “my little sauna? what an odd nickname you’ve got there,“ you tease, voice light and full of amusement. your sweaty arms find gojo’s broad shoulder and draw him closer, skin-to-skin with your chest.

gojo chuckled at your comment, enjoying the lighthearted banter between you two. “hey, i think it's a good nickname,” he retorted, a mischievous gleam in his eye. “it suits you, what with all that heat and wetness you generate.”

he let you pull him closer, relishing the feel of your skin against his, the sweat making your bodies slick and sticky. his arms encircled your waist, holding you close as he settled against you, his chest rising and falling with his steady breaths. he nuzzled his face into your hair, inhaling deeply, his breath warm against your skin.

“mmm, you smell good,” he murmured, his nose buried in your hair. you hummed softly at his comment, a teasing smile spreading across your face. “that’s just the smell of sex,” you replied playfully, your voice laced with mischief.

gojo chuckled again, his lips curving into a boyish grin as he nuzzled your hair. “well, i’m not complaining,” he responded, his voice low and suggestive.

he shifted his position slightly, his body shifting closer to yours as he continued to hold you close. his hand moved to the small of your back, gently tracing small circles with his fingertips. “and i think you smell even better than usual,” he murmured, his lips finding their way to your neck again, his tongue tracing a path down your throat.

you pushed gojo’s face away from your neck, turning to lay face to face with him. your hands cupped his cheeks, your gaze steady and sincere as you looked into his eyes.

“but i love the sex, it feels good, slow and gentle,” you confessed softly, a warm smile gracing your lips. your thumb leaving stars on his blushing cheeks, “i love feeling your skin on mine. it's different from the sex we used to have. just you and me, no suguru, just us. it’s such a nice feeling.”

gojo’s expression softened as he looked into your eyes, his own filling with tenderness. he reached up to hold your hands, keeping them against his cheeks. “yeah, it is,” he murmured, his voice soft and sincere. “it’s different, more intimate, more...real. it’s just us, no distractions, no one else but us. and i love it too. love feeling you close, feeling our bodies touch, feeling completely connected to you.“

he leaned in, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes searching yours. “being with you like this, it’s like coming home.”

he paused for a moment, taking in the feel of your skin against his, the warmth of your touch. “you know, this is my favorite part,” he confessed quietly.

he shifted his position slightly, his hands moving to your hips, pulling you even closer. “after we finish, just lying here, holding you, feeling your skin on mine. it’s like...i don’t know, like being in another world or something.” he traced gentle circles on your skin with his fingertips, his touch light and comforting.

you hummed softly, still smiling at his words. “i feel the same way,” you admitted, your voice warm. “it's not that i don't enjoy our time together as three, because i really do. but sometimes, having a moment just with one of you feels completely different.”

you paused, glancing at him mischievously, decided to ruin the moment, “but, you know, i can't wait for you to go on a mission so i can have more time like this with suguru.”

spending time with one of them feels uniquely special compared to the moments you share as a trio. when it’s just the two of you, there’s an intimacy that wraps around you like a warm blanket—every shared glance and touch deepens your connection in ways that sometimes get lost in the dynamic of three. it’s in those quiet moments, just you and him, where you can truly let your guard down and fully be yourselves.

it’s not that you don’t enjoy the moments with all three of you; they’re filled with laughter, camaraderie, and shared adventures. but there’s something profoundly satisfying about having one-on-one time. you can dive into deeper conversations, explore vulnerabilities, and create an atmosphere where you both feel entirely seen and cherished.

you know they understand this need for balance, too, even without words. the subtle way they look at you when it’s just the two of you speaks volumes, a silent acknowledgment of this shared desire for deeper connection. it's these moments that make your bond stronger, allowing each of you to appreciate the unique qualities the other brings to the relationship.

gojo chuckled at your playful remark about suguru, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“oh, so that’s how it is, eh?” he retorted, feigning mock offense. “you’re eager to kick me out on a mission so you can have more alone time with my dearest friend.” he squeezed your hips possessively, his grip firm and possessive. “maybe i’ll deliberately drag my feet on my next assignment then.”

he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered in a low, teasing tone. “can’t have you spending too much quality time with suguru, now can i? i need to maintain my status as the favorite, after all.” he nibbled at your earlobe gently, his teeth grazing your skin. “i can’t have him stealing your heart, sweetheart. i’ll have to make sure you don’t forget about me.“

you let out a soft laugh, feigning a dramatic gasp as you pulled back slightly to look into gojo’s eyes. “oh please, suguru already stole my heart ages ago,” you teased, a playful smirk dancing on your lips.

“but don’t worry,” you added with a wink, “there’s plenty of room for two favorites. besides, you know my heart has a soft spot just for you, too.” you leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, letting your lips linger for a moment before pulling away, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “but you’ll have to work a little harder to keep that title, won’t you?”

gojo chuckled, his eyes gleaming with a mix of playful challenge and affection. he wrapped his arms more firmly around your waist, pulling you against him.

“oh, i know you’re just trying to rile me up, you little tease,” he replied, his voice carrying a hint of mock annoyance. “but i’m not gonna let suguru steal you away that easily. you’re mine, remember?” he tilted your chin up, his thumb tracing along your jawline, his blue eyes holding yours captured. “i’ll do whatever it takes to keep that title, you bet your sweet ass i will.”

“oh you do, do you?”

gojo’s smirk grew wider, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “oh, absolutely,” he confirmed, his voice laced with confidence. “i’ll show you just how serious i am about keeping my title, my little sweet heart.”

he leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath hot against your skin. “i’ll work extra hard to make sure you never even think about suguru while we’re together. all your attention will be on me, and me alone. you won’t even have a chance to miss him.”

gojo’s hands roamed over your skin, his touch possessive as he pulled you even closer, their bodies touching just about everywhere.

“i’ll make sure you'l’re so enthralled by me, so completely captivated, that you won’t even remember what your dear other boyfriend looks like,” he murmured, his voice a low growl against your ear. “you’ll be too busy relishing in the feeling of my touch, the sound of my voice, the heat of my body.”

[greengoblinswifey]

The Offer—Salesman x Fem!Reader

summary— After an encounter with the mysterious and dangerously charming salesman, you find yourself drawn to him and what begins as a simple game quickly escalates when he offers you a deal outside the Squid Game. based on this request.

warnings— sugar baby undertones, praise kink, fingering, oral(f!receiving), body worship, ass slapping, choking, unprotected sex, creampie.

The subway station felt like a dull hum in the background as you sat on a hard bench, looking at your phone. The notification from your bank app stared back at you, a harsh reminder of your poor spending choices. Shopping sprees, credit card bills, and an insurmountable amount of student loan debt weighed on you. You sighed, barely noticing the man who had taken a seat next to you until he cleared his throat.

“Rough day?” a deep, smooth voice said.

You glanced up, and your breath caught in your throat. The man was striking, his tailored suit fit perfectly, his features sharp and symmetrical, with a mischievous glint in his eyes that sent a spark of unease and intrigue down your spine.

“Uh, yeah, you could say that,” you muttered, looking away as you grew flustered.

He chuckled softly. “Well, I can help,” he said, pulling out a neat red envelope from his briefcase. “How about a game?”

“A game?” You frowned, wary but unable to deny the curiosity bubbling inside you.

He opened the envelope, revealing a stack of blue and red tiles. “Ddakji,” he explained, holding up one of the tiles. “We take turns throwing the tile to flip the other. You win, you get 100,000 won each time. You lose,” his smile widened. “I get to slap you.”

Your stomach churned at the proposal, but the thought of cash was too enticing to ignore. “Whatever,” you said, your voice shaky but firm.

The first few rounds were a blur. He was calm, composed, and terrifyingly skilled. You, on the other hand, had no idea what you were doing, your tile landing uselessly each time.

“Not your game, is it?” he teased after you failed again.

“Nah,” you replied.

He leaned closer, and you smelled his cologne, subtle but intoxicating. Instead of raising his hand to deliver the promised slap, he surprised you by tucking the envelope into your hands.

“Here,” he said, his voice low and warm. “Take my card instead.”

You blinked, staring at the card he offered. It was embossed with a phone number and a strange symbol. “What’s this?”

“For something bigger than a subway game,” he replied. His hand lingered for a moment on yours as he added, “How about I come over, and we talk a bit more? About the game, the prize, and— possibilities.”

Your heart raced as you nodded.

You led him to your apartment, your nerves heightened by his presence. He seemed so calm and confident, while you felt like a mess. Inside, he leaned against your kitchen counter, his jacket now draped over the back of a chair.

“You’re nervous,” he said, his lips curving into a small smile.

“Not nervous,” you lied, but your trembling hands gave you away.

He chuckled, taking a step closer. “You’re interesting. Most people I approach don’t look at me the way you do.”

“And how’s that?” you asked, swallowing hard.

“Like you’re trying to figure me out,” he said, his voice sending a shiver through you.

“Maybe I am,” you admitted, clutching the card tightly.

“Good,” he murmured. “Keep that curiosity. It might take you further than you think.”

You weren’t sure if it was a warning or what, but you couldn’t deny the way his presence filled the room, leaving you breathless and wanting to know more.

“You’ve got a fire in you. I like that.” His voice softened as he added, “But you don’t need to play any games to fix your problems.”

Your brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I could take care of you,” he said simply. He stepped even closer, the space between you closing to almost nothing. “You wouldn’t have to worry about loans, bills—anything. We could come to an arrangement.”

You blinked up at him, your heart racing. “An arrangement?”

“You’d be surprised what I’m capable of.” He reached out, brushing a stray hair from your face, his fingers lingering near your jaw. “I can take care of you in more ways than one.”

The way he said it sent heat through you. His gaze dipped to your lips again, and you found yourself leaning into his presence without even realizing it. “I’m down for that,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower. He tilted his head, his face now inches from yours. “Because I think you’ve needed someone to take care of you for a long time.”

Before you could respond, his lips captured yours, unhurried, testing the waters. The kiss deepened quickly, fueled by what had been building between you since he first approached you.

His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as his tongue teased yours, earning a soft gasp. He took the opportunity to lift you effortlessly onto the kitchen counter, his hands warm and steady against your ass.

“You’re something else,” he said against your lips, his breath hot as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. His thumb brushed over your cheek, and for a moment, the intensity softened into something almost tender.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips.

He chuckled, his forehead resting against yours. “This could be the start of something very interesting.”

And boy, you couldn’t help but agree. The kiss reignited, deeper and hotter than before. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him on the counter. The faint scent of his cologne mixed with the faint aroma of something warm and spicy made your head swim.

“You smell incredible,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and rough. He pressed his nose to the curve of your neck, inhaling deeply as his lips ghosted over your skin. “Too good, really. Makes me wonder if you’re even real.”

Heat spread through your cheeks, but his words lit something inside you. “I think you’re the one who’s too good to be real,” you teased back.

“Flattery, huh? I like that. But don’t think for a second I don’t see through you.” His hand slid up your thigh, his touch warm. “You’ve been wanting this, haven’t you?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he silenced you with another kiss, his teeth gently tugging at your bottom lip before pulling back to study your reaction. “No need to lie, sweetheart. I know.”

His hand ventured lower, fingers brushing over the fabric of your skirt, and he hesitated, his eyes meeting yours. “Is this okay?” he asked softly, his tone serious, despite the fire burning in his gaze.

Instead of answering, you bucked your hips into his touch instinctively, a soft gasp escaping your lips. The corner of his mouth lifted in approval. “That’s what I thought,” he muttered.

His fingers worked, finding your dripping pussy and working their magic, skilled and precise. You couldn’t help but arch into him, your head falling back against the cabinet. “Look at me,” he commanded gently, one hand cupping your jaw to bring your gaze back to his. “I want to see those pretty eyes.”

You obeyed, locking eyes with him as his fingers thrusting inside you intensified, his thumb brushing over your cheek when you whimpered softly. “That’s it,” he said, “You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

You couldn’t form words, only nodding as waves of pleasure rolled through you. His digits curled expertly inside you, thrusting against that spongy spot that made your breath catch and your pussy throb. You thrashed and moaned, feeling practically possessed by pleasure. God, you really did need this. He probably thought you were a desperate slut. His thumb tilted your chin up slightly. “Say it,” he murmured, his tone coaxing. “Tell me.”

“Yes,” you managed, your voice shaky. “Yes, I’m—I’m your good girl.”

His grin widened. “That’s my girl.”

Your hand gripped his muscular bicep as he stared down at you, the moment so intimate. Eyes locked on yours, two finger buried inside your pussy and a thumb rubbing your clit, giving you more pleasure your little fingers could ever manage to. Saving money had prevented you from even thinking of buying a vibrator. Soft moans left your lips as he rubbed rough circles on your bundle of nerves, your pussy clenching around nothing before he plunged his fingers back inside you. He thrusted roughly and you couldn’t help but clamp around him.

When the tension inside you reached its peak, he leaned closer, his lips grazing your ear. “Cum for me. Right here, right now. I want to see you fucking cum.”

And you did, trembling against him as his fingers pushed you over the edge, your breaths coming out in stuttering gasps. His praises washed over you as he held you steady, his grip comforting.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “Absolutely beautiful.”

You stayed like that for a moment, letting the quiet hum of the room wrap around you as you caught your breath.

The heat between you both heightened as his lips trailed down your neck softly. His hands gripped your waist firmly, pulling you closer on the counter. He paused, meeting your gaze with a smirk that sent a shiver down your spine.

“You’re addictive,” he murmured, voice rich and low. “I want to taste every part of you.”

Your breath hitched as he dropped to his knees, his hands steady on your thighs. “Can I taste you?” he asked, his tone sincere despite the hunger in his eyes.

You nodded, words escaping you entirely. His smirk deepened as he guided your legs apart, his lips brushing your inner thigh. “You’re so perfect,” he whispered, his voice soft. “And all mine.”

His tongue explored every inch of you, licking from your pelvis, then down to your clit. His focus on your clit, slurping and flicking it made your toes curl and your legs clamp around his head. He chuckled deeply, the sound sending vibrations through your body and he pried your legs open, continuing his feast.

“I’ve never seen anyone as stunning as you,” he said. “Let me take care of you.”

Each kiss on your clit and touch over your thighs sent sparks through you, and you couldn’t help the soft moans escaping your lips. He looked up, his eyes dark. “I want to hear you,” he murmured, his voice almost a growl. “Don’t hold back. Let me hear how good it feels.”

You moaned loudly, your voice trembling with emotion. “That’s my good girl,” he said. “So beautiful, my perfect girl.”

As he continued to worship you, every lick and word worked together, unraveling you completely. When you finally came, trembling with his mouth on your pussy, he held your gaze, his expression softening as he spoke.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to your clit. “Don’t forget that.”

When you came down from your high, he stood, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You’re everything I need,” he said softly, his forehead resting against yours.

His hands gripped your hips as he lifted you slightly, settling you more securely on the counter. The warmth of his hard cock pressed against your pussy sent shivers down your spine, but his lips found yours again, slow and tender.

“Relax,” he murmured, “I’ve got you, baby.”

You exhaled shakily as he freed his hard cock moving closer. He dragged the thick, leaking tip along your folds before slowly inching inside your tight pussy. His forehead rested against yours for a brief moment, giving you time to adjust to his size. His hands were steady on your waist, his thrusts careful and slow. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft, his eyes searching yours.

“Yes,” you whispered, and he smiled.

“Good,” he said, his lips capturing yours again, deeper this time. “I’ll take care of you, always.”

The praise flowed from him effortlessly as he began pounding into you. “You’re so perfect,” he murmured against your neck, his lips trailing kisses along your skin. “So good for me. Taking my cock so well.”

Your hands tangled in his dark hair as you tilted your head back. His pace shifted, repeatedly slamming against the sweet spot inside you and his lips found yours once more. “Cum on my cock,” he said, his forehead pressed to yours. “I’ve got you. Just cum for me.”

You gripped his bicep, your pussy responding to his words as your juices soaked his cock inside you. He held you steady, his praises unrelenting. “That’s it,” he whispered, brushing a kiss to your temple. “You’re incredible, such a good girl for me.”

The moment lingered, but you didn’t let it fade completely. Instead, your shaky hands found his, as he helped you off the counter and his lips captured yours again. You guided him toward your bedroom, the two of you stumbling slightly as you moved.

“You’re mine,” he murmured between kisses, his words muffled but filled with conviction. “No one else gets you like this.”

The bedroom door swung open, and he didn’t hesitate, his hands finding your waist again as he backed you toward the bed. “You’re so fucking sexy,” he muttered in awe.

You moved onto your hands and knees, adjusting until your back arched perfectly, drawing a low hum of approval from him.

“There we go,” he said, his hand smoothing over the curve of your spine before resting on your hip. “Just like that, absolutely perfect.”

A sharp, playful slap landed on your ass, making you jolt slightly, and he chuckled. “Couldn’t resist,” he teased, his hand soothing over the spot. “You look too good like this.”

He held onto your waist as his cock rested against your pussy. “You’ve got such a gorgeous body,” he murmured, his voice dropping as his hands roamed gently over your ass. “You don’t even realize how stunning you are, do you?”

You felt his gaze on you lingering, as you wiggled onto his cock, “That’s it, bring that ass back just like that for me. You’re so perfect.”

You met his thrusts as he rolled his hips, his cock disappearing inside your pussy. Each time he bottomed out, his cock was covered in your cream.

“Fuck, you’re really enjoying this baby,” he hummed, staring at how wet you got his shaft.

He held you steady, his hands molding to your curves, his cock brushing against your cervix with each thrust, his voice warm as he leaned closer. “You’re incredible,” he said, his breath brushing against your ear. “Every single part of you fucking especially this.” He squeezed your ass gently, his admiration clear.

He placed a soft kiss on the back of your shoulder before wrapping his hand around your neck to bring you closer so you were arching off him. His pace quickened, each thrust deep, as he held you by your neck securely in place. You arched deeper instinctively, your back pressing against his chest, and his breath warmed your ear.

“Let me hear you,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding. “Cum for me.”

Your breaths quickened, and you couldn't help the loud moan that escaped you just as he requested. His grip was firm and his words spilled effortlessly, “That’s my good girl. You’re incredible.”

As everything built to a crescendo, you felt yourself shudder. His hand on your throat tightened slightly, steadying you through the moment. The world around you faded, leaving only his cock moving inside you, anchoring you. You were still squirting as he pounded into you and soon, you felt his sticky cum coat your walls.

When it was over, he pulled you close, his lips brushing against your temple. “You’re breathtaking,” he said softly before retreating, leaving you to catch your breath.

Moments later, he appeared with a damp cloth, cleaning you up with a care that seemed to contradict his character. He set it aside, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk that was entirely too charming.

“So,” he said casually, folding his arms, “about those bank account details.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden shift in tone. He grinned, the shine in his eyes unmistakable.

“Relax,” he added with a soft chuckle, leaning down to brush a lock of hair from your face. “I said I’d take care of you, didn’t I?”

[teamred]

any other way

✩‌ logan howlett/wolverine x reader | fluff | 1.8k

SUMMARY | in which your good friend, wade, ditches your planned movie night, but his roommate offers to watch one with you instead. however, logan ends up falling asleep on your shoulder.

WARNINGS | drinking, kissing, swearing, gets a little steamy/handsy

RATING | teen+

NOTES | it's funny... i've been a big x-men fan for a while, but i never really fell for logan until d&w. if this pops off, maybe i'll write more for him!!!

///

“Wade, hurry up and let me in! A girl can only hold freshly popped popcorn for so—oh.” 

Instead of your dear, annoying friend, it’s his gorgeous, rugged roommate who answers the apartment door instead. Your eyes sweep over him, taking a liking to how his brown plaid button-up drapes over his white tank top. His clothing choices compliment his sturdy frame and strong pecs. His facial hair is perfectly groomed and—  

And it doesn’t help that you have just the teeniest, tiniest crush on him. 

“Logan, hey!” you exclaim, a little too enthusiastically. “I didn’t know you were going to be here for movie night too.” 

“Wade’s not here, bub,” Logan says, leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms and a sympathetic half-smile.

“What?! That little shit said he’d be free tonight…”  You sigh, shaking your head. “Well, it’s all good. I’ll just—” 

“Did you want to watch a movie with me instead?” Logan offers. You think you hear a hint of hopefulness in his voice. “Since you came out all this way?” 

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to bother you. I’m sure you’re—”

“Darlin���,” he interrupts with a soft chuckle. Your heart stumbles at the sound. “I have never been more free on a Saturday night. You’re welcome to join me, but only if you’re comfortable with it.” 

Now your heart is melting over his kindness. You smile warmly. “I always feel comfortable around you, Logan.” 

He returns the smile and gestures for you to come in, offering to take the popcorn and if you want anything as you remove your shoes.

“I got it, but thank you. A beer would be good,” you reply, settling in on one end of the couch in the living room. You glance around curiously. “Is Blind Al not home either?” 

“Yeah,” Logan calls from the nearby kitchen, bending towards the open fridge to grab the drinks. “She’s getting, in her own words, ‘turned up’ at the casino tonight.”

You snicker as you browse through streaming services to pick a movie for tonight. Logan returns with a beer in each hand and you’re surprised when he takes the middle seat next to you. You catch a whiff of his scent and it is intoxicating–a blend of woody notes, perhaps leather and pine. 

“So what’s the movie for tonight?” Logan asks, taking a sip from his bottle. 

“Well, be honest with me here: Wade promised that we could watch this new movie that just released a few days ago, but it’s a romantic movie, so—” 

“Of course,” he cuts in with a roll of his eyes, tossing a kernel into his mouth. “That’s his favourite genre.” 

You deflate a little. “Okay, with that tone, I’m assuming I will have to change the movie choice.” 

“No! Don’t change it because of me,” Logan quickly interjects. “We can watch whatever you want. I’m genuinely content to just sit here and do something other than watching reruns I’ve seen a million times before.” 

You study him for a moment, trying to gauge his sincerity. “Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure,” he reassures you, nodding and flashing another smile. You will yourself to calm your racing heart and focus on finding the movie. Once you select it, you press play and relax into the couch cushions. 

Out of nowhere, Logan places his arm around you, his hand slightly hovering above your shoulders. You stiffen at the unexpected move, unsure why he’s doing it. But then he quickly pulls back, shuffling a bit away from you.

“Shit, sorry,” he mutters, clearly embarrassed. “It’s out of habit when I watch stuff.”

“You can leave your arm there,” you blurt out. You don’t even register the words coming out of your mouth. Where was this boldness coming from? 

He quirks an eyebrow, amused. “Yeah?” 

“Mm-hmm,” you nod fervently, rushing to grab your beer to steady your nerves. Taking a long sip, you try to force your body to relax again. 

The first few minutes of the movie starts quite slow, but your eyes are glued to the screen to ensure you don’t miss the exposition. Just as you reach for the popcorn, so does Logan, and the back of your hands brush against each other. 

“Sorry,” you both mumble, glancing at each other in awkwardness and something hanging in the air. He juts his chin out with a subtle smirk, gesturing you to go first. You grab a handful, and as he follows suit, his fingers graze against yours, causing you to shiver. 

The air in the room is electric, and you wonder if the tension is just in your head or if Logan feels it too. The movie continues, but your thoughts are consumed by the warmth of his body so close to yours and the possibility of what might happen next. 

Later into the movie, you freeze as you feel Logan leaning in closer. You turn your head, ready for what might happen–

But then, he goes completely lax, slouching into your shoulder and resting his head in a comfortable position. 

“I should’ve chosen a different movie…” you think, shaking your head. 

It’s hard to focus on the movie with this gorgeous being asleep on your shoulder (and the movie doesn’t seem to be that great anyway). Towards the end of the movie, your attention drifts completely and you indulge in how Logan sleeps. His soft snoring. The gentle squeezes he gives your shoulder as he dreams. The steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathes in and out. 

Suddenly, Logan stirs and lifts his head, almost snorting up air cutely. He blinks groggily. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry, gorgeous. Did I sleep through the movie?” 

You hesitate, hung up on the fact that he called you gorgeous. Your cheeks prickle as you search for the right words to say.

“Yeah, you did,” you whisper with a small smile. “But it’s fine. It wasn’t that great anyway.” 

“Mm, figures,” he mumbles. “Did you wanna watch another movie or—” 

As he straightens up, you instinctively lean towards him, closing the gap between you two. Your noses practically touch.

“Or did you wanna do…” Logan’s voice is low and gravelly. You hold your breath and hold his gaze. “...something else?” 

You barely nod, and he drags you into a searing kiss. His hands cup your cheek and neck with urgency. Soon enough, his tongue dips into your mouth, sending a jolt to your core. 

Logan cradles your body and carefully positions you lower onto the couch. The weight of his body pressed up against you sends you into overdrive. His hands dive underneath your shirt, exploring your soft skin. The pressure of his body against yours leaves you breathless. Not only the pressure of his body, but also his—

“Winner winner, chicken dinner!” 

Wade’s booming voice cuts through the front door like a tornado, forcing both of you to scramble away faster than opposing magnets. However, it’s too late; Wade has witnessed everything. 

“Oh, my God, Blind Al, my plan worked! It fucking worked!” Wade squeals, jumping up and down. 

“Oh, no. Are they butt-ass naked on the couch? Times like these, I’m grateful to be blind.” 

“No, they’re thankfully fully clothed. But they were just dry humping the shit out of each other though.” 

“You ditched movie night on purpose, you asshole!” you screech. 

“Hey, you should be thanking me,” Wade retorts with a wink. “You and Wolvie always have had palpable sexual tension every time you were in a room together. Hell, even Laura agreed it’d be a good idea to set you two up.” 

Logan and you exchange a sheepish smile, acknowledging the truth in Wade's words. 

“Blind Al and I will just be basking in our casino winnings with a few drinks and then we’ll be out of your hair in a few. And then you two can carry on and fuck each other freely on the couch.” 

“But keep it down, please,” Blind Al adds with a hint of desperation.

“I probably should get going now,” you chime in, eager to avoid the awkwardness. Logan quickly follows behind, walking you to the front door. 

“I’m sorry about all this,” he says in sincerity.

You wave him off. “You never have to apologize for them. They’re like family; I’m used to them.” 

“I didn’t know where the night was heading, but—” He turns around to check over his shoulder, lowering his voice and leaning in slightly. “—I’m glad Wade set us up.” 

“Heard that!” Wade calls out from inside the apartment. 

“Damn it,” Logan mutters, making you giggle. “Anyways, would you let me take you out on a proper date tomorrow night?” 

You beam as you reply, “I’d love that.” 

“Great, I’ll call you later.” 

Logan steps outside of the apartment and closes the door behind him, pulling you in by your waist for another kiss. Innocent at first, but then he presses you up against the wall and his hands grips at your waist, extracting a few moans from you.

“Either get back inside or just go home with her rather than wall-fucking her outside of the apartment!” Wade’s muffled voice echoes through the thin walls. 

Logan retreats slightly, his breath warm against your cheek. He keeps his voice low. “And not trying to put pressure on our date tomorrow, but if—”

“If things get heated, let’s go back to my place,” you finish his thought with a soft promise. 

His eyes light up with a relieved smile. “You read my mind. Thank you.” 

You smile into one last kiss, the world fading away as you savor the sensation of Logan’s mouth on yours.

Until Wade pops his head out through the door like a whack-a-mole you’re dying to hit. “Okay, seriously. I will offer you my bedroom, if you’re really that horny, you guys.” He calls out your name. “Also, did you know he can smell how horny you are?” 

“I—what?” you stammer, blinking in confusion.

“Wade, shut the fuck up,” Logan snaps with gritted teeth. He faces you again with a gentle smile. “Have a good night, gorgeous. I’ll call you as soon as you get back home.” 

Logan’s a man of his word, almost calling immediately as you stepped foot in your apartment (with Wade providing unnecessary commentary in the background, as always). 

Later, as you get ready for bed, you can’t help but admit how grateful you were for Wade’s set-up. If it wasn’t for him, neither of you would’ve made a move; it would’ve progressed at a glacial pace. 

Lying in bed and looking up at your bedroom ceiling, you think to yourself how tonight truly was perfect, and you wouldn’t have had it any other way. Smiling, you drift off to sleep, dreaming of what tomorrow’s date might bring. 

ENDING NOTES | thank you so much for reading and giving some love! part two can be read here!

[valwrote]

PICK YOUR DOMESTIC HUSBAND 🛒

WHICH HUSBAND IS ON THE DOMESTICITY MENU TODAY?

featuring: diluc, alhaitham, zhongli, wriothesley, neuvillette.

synopsis: glimpses into married life with the genshin men.

warnings: implied fem!reader, occasional pet names, ooc (I have a sparse idea how diluc works, mention of "activities" (just mention I can't write smut pls), silly goofy ah loser coded men, mild swearing (damn, heck)

a/n: *stretching my back and crunching my neck.* I'm back from the dead. apologies for the choppy writing. thanks for the support on the other posts, if only I could write 50-page essays thanking everyone. <33 :')) not proofread.

DILUC 🍷

PRODUCT NAME: BREAKFAST AND KISSES IN BED. Diluc always hated the Knights of Favonius… 

He hated how most of them just stand around like buffoons and do not partake in any actual work that involves saving Mondstadt. He wouldn’t admit that he enjoys playing Batman. He hated them all except for one.

One he was willing to forgive all flaws of. "Knight of Favonius…always so inefficient,”  He scoffed at the pathetic sight of the hilichurls trying to dry roast a few knights roped to a wooden stick for their dinner. “Seriously, You’re so right Master Diluc.” Diluc’s head turned so fast at the sound of a new voice. When did you get here? Were you always there and how did he not sense you around?

That’s simply how you always were. A hard worker amidst slackers – he always termed despite Jean trying to explain that others work hard too. Perhaps that’s what caught his attention, honestly, he would never know what did. “G’morning…” He murmured against your skin, head buried in the crook of your neck, your flushed bare back pressed against him. “5 more minutes…” he heard your soft and groggy voice evoking a chuckle from the usually passive man. “Have I ever told you…how beautiful you are?” Diluc muttered against your skin. You smiled and turned around, “You always do. I remember my Dark-Knight Hero crying at the altar.” You pressed a finger against his chest, while he scoffed at the memory. “Don’t remind me about that, Kaeya doesn’t let me live that down…” He sighed, his brother consistently brought up the matter of him crying whenever he was losing an argument. Foul play if you ask anyone. “So…breakfast downstairs or in the bed?” He planted a kiss on your cheek while you hummed out a response, “Bed, you didn’t exactly go easy on me the previous night.” You recalled the events of the passionate night the day before. The honeymoon phase never seemed to end. “I am so sorry–” He panicked,” You're not in pain are you? I promise I’ll be gentle– I knew I should’ve been more considerat–” You stopped him by pressing a kiss against his lips. He groaned at the feeling of your soft lips touching his hands tangling themselves in your hair.

“I’m kidding silly… you should stop taking things so seriously unless you want me to start searching for grey hairs amidst those red locks of yours.” You snickered out seeing him release a breath of relief.

If the Darknight Hero really does exist, he's probably just someone in disguise. When he gets up in the morning to brush his teeth, it's the real him. He was his real him in front of you. People may call him a loser for such vulnerability…he was a loser for you.

ALHAITHAM 🌱

PRODUCT NAME: READING BOOKS OUT LOUD. One would say married to someone like Alhaitham was nothing short of a nightmare. They weren't 100% right. Shrouded beneath the aloof and meticulous personality resided someone who was in complete denial towards being loved. He loves it.

Who was he kidding? Nobody in a million years thought someone could put up with his insufferable personality — said Kaveh, his unpaying tenant. That was until he ran into you during his time as the newly appointed Scribe. You were like a painter, splashing heaps of paint in his 90s black-and-white life. Was eating ice cream always this enjoyable or was it because it was with you? Was the gossip between co-workers always this interesting or was it because it included you?

Why was his heart having an entire Queen’s rock and roll concert talking to you? Was it cardiac arrest or– He almost shuddered at the thought of it being what they called love.

“You’ve got flour on your face, sweetheart.” His teal eyes blinked amusingly into yours, a faint smile curling up his lips. You must have saved a nation in your previous life to land this man as your husband. Beige shirt perfectly sculpting around his abs – contrary to him calling himself “feeble,” hair slightly tousled and slight sleepiness in his eyes. He might not act like it but he was a little child whose needs had to be tended to like the coffee mug in his hands which you made, like usual. You wouldn’t want a cranky Alhaitham now, would you? “Hmpf, not my fault, this cooking book is completely bogus!” You rubbed your cheeks with the back of your hand, wiping away any remaining flour. “This is so boring…if only someone could provide their poor wife with some entertainment.” You always resorted to theatrics to get him to do things for you, albeit begrudgingly. “No, the same tactic is not going to work again.” “Please…” “No…” He groaned, tone almost pleading not to put him through the torture again. “During better or worse!” You resorted to the ace up to your sleeve. WEDDING VOWS! “Stop quoting the wedding vows.” He sighed in defeat. The most intellectually gifted man in the nation couldn't win against his own wife. Ironical. He got up and grabbed a book out of the bookshelf; a small fraction of his much larger library.

“Miss Elizabeth,” Alhaitham lazily flipped through the pages earning a rebuke. “More emotion! You are ruining the scene.” Alhaitham sighed and cleared his throat, “I love you most ardently…” His tone was feathery soft, emotion surging in it. A smile crept up as he stared at you endearingly.

“That’s much better. Though I seriously think Mr Darcy should’ve said– Miss Elizabeth, allow me to kiseth thy lovely lips.” You mimicked the deep voice of the character with the failing British accent. “Please have mercy on Jane Austen’s ghost and let her enjoy the afterlife.” Alhaitham chuckled and continued reading as you continued baking.  It was a shame that a man of such talent only paid attention to the truth itself and not to the people around him. If only the searching eyes of the ordinary say the exception to his indifference, you.

This was your biosphere, just you, him, novels and food encapsulated inside your small home.

ZHONGLI 🪨

PRODUCT NAME: ALWAYS ON HIS MIND. What is the best but the most useless flex you have? Being married to the Geo Archon. The inability to just tell the whole world that you are married to the frigging god was painful. You yourself were surprised by your ability to control yourself. Zhongli was a man of carefully curated words. Instead of words, straight-up poetry flew out of his mouth. Everyone knew how much he adored his wife, every vendor, every acquaintance, heck even Venti. Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's mysterious consultant. Handsome, elegant, and surpassingly learned. Excellent memory. A master of courtesy and rules. The amount of poor women who have tried to grab his attention. "Mr.Zhongli, how does this look?" the woman, who he remembered meeting over a history discussion 17 days ago. "Hm?" his amber eyes shifted to gaze at the hairpiece the lady was holding. "Most exquisite.." He remarked, seemingly going into deep thought. Instead of a compliment, he said something that made the woman back away, "Such beautiful craftsmanship...may I ask you to tell me where you found this? I wish to buy one for my wife–" he paused, seeing the lady vanished after pointing at the shop where she got it from. "Zhongli, you should be able to tell why people approach you..." Hutao sighed, standing beside the rather oblivious gentleman. "Let's just continue...we've got customers to find!" Hutao started walking alongside the railing, hoping to find people in need of funeral services. "Maybe we should go and ask peopl– Zhongli??" Hutao looked around for the Consultant, who was caught up chatting with a shopkeeper over some earrings. "Zhongli!" Hutao called out to him, causing his head to turn towards the director. "Oh, apologies...It seems I got too carried away. These earrings caught my eye...I'm sure [Name} would love them.." he mumbled, staring at the jewellery. "I'll take them." "Mister Zhongli? What about the payment..." The shopkeeper meekly asked, causing Zhongli to turn his head fully at Hutao; gazing expectantly. Hutao should've expected this... "Zhongli, we are out here to find customers! Not buying gifts for [Name], her birthday is months away!" "They say the best things should be done first. After all, why must I wait for one specific day to express my love for my beloved?" Zhongli asked curiously and Hutao shaked her head; love was clearly out of her expertise. Zhongli, he is particular about everything. He only attended the best operas and focused on the perfect ratio for the creation of an authentic dish.  On a typical day, all you will glean from him is a few pieces of useless trivia, because he particularly enjoys sharing these fun tidbits with you. He was particular about you and your likings. A smile on your face was what he wanted by the end of the day. For being someone alive for 6000 years, he could proudly say that he loved and cherished something– someone.

"Wait here, Director Hu...Perhaps I should get those flowers over there to accompany the hairpin and earrings..."

WRIOTHESLEY 🐺

PRODUCT NAME: BATTLE TO BUY A DOG OR NOT.

"Wriothesley, I want a dog!" You crossed your arms, staring down at the Duke who was glued to the chair in his office. “But why? That’s just unnecessary responsibility…” Wriothesley sighed, rubbing his temples. This was the 3rd time this month you’ve brought up this topic. Was he that incompetent in terms of filling his role as your significant other? Perhaps not with the never-ending paperwork. Oh, how he wished people would just stop committing crimes. “I get lonely in the Fortress…I want a child.” You put forth your point by using the term ’ child’. Child, dog same thing. You hoped to finally convince him this time.

“We have Sigewinne.” Wriothesley pointed at the head nurse prepping tea in the room with the back of his pen. “I am sorry, Your Grace but playing the role of the child is out of my job description.” The Melusine replied indifferently, pouring freshly seeped tea into the three cups. “Fine, we will go get one…I’ll schedule a meeting with the owner of the pet shelter. Happy?” He asked you, chin resting on his palm. Perhaps getting a dog was a good idea as he was guilty of being unable to spend quality time with you… “No way…” “Isn’t that..?” “The Duke of the Meropide–” “He rarely appears in public..” Wriothesley held out the door to the shelter for you, hoping you would go in and it would finally save him from the gaze of curious onlookers. The two of you walked in, only to be pounced upon by a big dog. “Kal! You sly dog! I knew I shouldn’t have let you out!” The caretaker yelled at the big ball of black fur who had tackled Wriothesley to the floor and was aggressively licking his face, tail wagging in delight. “Are you okay?” You asked your fallen husband, who just chuckled in response. “I am good just– Okay stop! I understand your gesture of love.” Wriothesley got up as the dog encircled him. “This one is so adorable…” you gasped at the cuteness radiating from the dog and its big brown eyes. “You’ve got a keen eye! This is Kal, Shiloh Shepard, one of the finest dogs out there.” The caretaker combed her fingers through the thick and groomed black coat of the canine. “He seems to have taken a liking to the Duke.” The caretaker continued as the dog ran back to Wriothesley, peppering his face with licks. “He even looks like you.” You teased as Wriothesley stared at you in disbelief. You did not just compare him to a dog…he even did a double take at the dog to confirm. “We will take this one then…” He chuckled in amusement. Never had he imagined marrying you and on top of that getting a four-legged beast. Needless to say, Wriothesley proudly walked out of the shelter, holding the big dog in his hands like a child. It felt complete ever since getting Kal; like your own little family. Wriothesley wouldn’t admit it but he loved the dog, despite it hogging all of your love and attention. He didn’t expect to be fighting over cuddling rights with a dog!? 

He watched you and Kal sleep peacefully on the couch, keeping him company while he finished up his work. He felt a sense of gratitude…people of the Fortress knew little of the crime he once committed. The only one who still remembers it like yesterday is Wriothesley himself. And no matter how much glory or repute he has earned, he still considers himself to be the same old Wriothesley he's always known.Neither a good person nor a complete villain. He's just another soul, still living on in this world. However, your eyes always reassured him in ways he couldn’t describe. Everything was perfect…

[Name]!! YOURDAMN DOG PISSED ON MY COAT!! Maybe not that perfect…whoops.

NEUVILLETTE 🌊

PRODUCT NAME: HELPING THE OTHER DRESS.

Monsieur Neuvillette, The Iudex of Fontaine, always wondered how his life had come to this. 500 years of serving his position as the Beacon of Justice, a lovely, beaming baker somehow broke the monotony. Well, calling you just a baker was now an insult. With your ring finger bejewelled, with one of the rarest gems– an ode to his undying loyalty and representation of his eternal love. “It’s astounding how a covert mission conducted by melusines could’ve landed someone such as myself a lady like her…” He muttered to himself, seeing his full form in the mirror. “Talking to yourself, again?” You leaned against the door frame, lopsidedly smiling at the peculiar antics of Fontaine’s most distinguished man. “Ah, apologies…I didn’t think you would notice me conversing with myself. Now I find myself in a rather awkward predicament.” He chuckled. Dear god, this man was so beautiful that his beauty was almost blinding with the morning sun perfectly hitting his face.

“Say ah,” You requested and he complied. Who better to take constructive criticism from other than your husband? “New filling?” He covered his mouth while chewing on the croissant. “Yup, how is it? I was experimenting with some Rainbow Roses and these Inazuman berries I bought.” You blinked curiously, waiting for some input. “Hmm it is very pleasant, it is fascinating how you manage to maintain the freshness of the fruit…” You smiled at his compliment, before noticing him struggling with the jabot around his neck. “Need help?” You offered and he nodded his head. “This is absurd..it usually isn’t this difficult.” He frustrated replied, it was amusing to see the cool and collected man all worked up about clothing. “I suggest simplifying your outfit.” You attached the jabot and secured it in with the teardrop brooch, fixing the ruffles. 

“Thank you. I do prefer my outfit as it conveys the message I wish for it to convey.” He explained before staring at you. You knew that look, he looked at you with his eyebrows slightly creased when he was hesitating from saying something. “What is it?” “Do I get a goodbye kiss before I leave?” “Pfft! I didn’t think you would take that seriously!” Conclusion: this man was wayyy to cute.

Neuvillette is a solitary person. Neuvillette is not known for his personal desires.

He was deemed as someone with unassailable impartiality. If only they knew that perhaps the Iudex was just a wee bit biased.

a/n 2.0: the crust will come off...hopefully. i wonder if it's possible to guess which one of them is my favourite??

don't steal, copy, plagiarise, or translate.

©definitelysel

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Baby’s first christmas

Tags: JJK men x fem!Reader, you two have a kid, tooth rotting fluff, JJK men being dads, tis the season, kind of suggestive on Satoru’s and Sukuna’s. Not proofread bc it’s christmas.

An: Happy holidays! No Choso because I never really include him in my JJK men as dads series. Sorry Choso enjoyers!! Also, the kids names have no affiliation with the names of anyone in JJK. They were names I thought up a while ago. This is a little short because I wrote it on Christmas Eve lol.

Incl: Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna

SATORU

This would be Satoru’s first Christmas at home with a family. His clan didn’t celebrate Christmas, and even if they did, Satoru knew santa wasn’t real from a very young age.

He stared at you and your infant son as you rocked him back and forth. Satoru swore he could feel his heart swell three sizes larger. He knew that realistically his son, Aoi, wouldn’t remember this Christmas, but he wanted to create traditions.

He wanted to have something that he could look forward to every year.

“Where are you going?” You asked your husband with a warm laugh as he grabbed his keys and wallet. It was the night before Christmas. Everything would be closed by now, and they wouldn’t open until the day after Christmas.

“Don’t worry about it, Sweets. I’ll be home soon.” He assured you with his signature grin. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to both yours and Aoi’s head. His small baby stirred, making the cutest grunts and sleep noises. “Make sure to leave some cookies out for Santa. I think he should be stopping by soon.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at your husband’s antics. It was never a dull moment between you two.

“I think my sweet-toothed husband will eat them before Santa gets to them.” You remarked at Satoru headed towards the door. He flashed you a cheeky smile.

“No promises. It’s the thought that counts anyways.” He said before heading out into the snowy night. You shook your head at him, knowing he was likely up to no good.

You continued rocking Aoi in the rocking chair for a little while. Aoi could be a very fussy baby when mama or dada wasn’t holding him, so you weren’t taking any chances of putting him down just yet.

Instead, you carefully wrapped him up in a sling baby carrier, and you popped some cookies in the oven. Satoru helped you make the dough yesterday, and you two had already cut them out into various Christmas shapes.

Your mind was elsewhere as you cleaned up the kitchen and thought about what all needed to be done tomorrow. Satoru’s clan didn’t celebrate Christmas, but you had planned a surprise Christmas party and invited all of his friends to come celebrate with you three.

After a while, the oven beeped signaling that the cookies were at the perfect level of doneness. You put on your oven mitts on before carefully removing the pan. As you sat it down on the stove, the sound of tumbling down the chimney caught your attention.

Was there an animal trapped in your chimney? You grimaced at the thought of trying to save a rabid animal from the confines of your chimney.

You stepped over to the chimney to investigate from afar. With Aoi in your arms, you didn’t want to put your son in harm’s way.

Luckily for you, your goofy husband stared back up at you. His bright blue eyes were unmistakable, even while he had on a fake Santa costume with a fake beard. His face was smeared with black marks from the coal in your fireplace.

“Ho, ho, ho..” He laughed in a thick bellowing tone as he crawled out of the fireplace.

“Satoru, what are you doing? You’re going to scar Aoi.” You laughed as you walked over to your husband, wiping some smears off his cheek.

“I don’t know this Satoru you speak of. He must be on my naughty list. Ho, ho, ho.” Fake Santa continued, shooting you a small wink. He really wasn’t going to give up this act easily, was he?

He didn’t. Satoru played as Santa, placing a few gifts under the tree and munching on some homemade cookies and milk in the act. He had to perfect his Santa persona for when Aoi would be able to form memories.

Your real husband conveniently didn’t return until after “Santa” had left, and he even had the audacity to pout about not receiving any gifts from Santa. You had to politely inform him that he was on the naughty list this year, which promptly had Satoru smirking at you.

“Bummer. Santa even forgot to leave me a lump of coal. If only there was another way for me to be punished for being on the naughty list…”

SUGURU

You were dreading Christmas. A new mom with twin baby girls and several houses to go to just didn’t sound like any fun. Of course, your husband, Suguru, would offer to help in any way he could, but you both knew you were going to be exhausted and overstimulated by the end of the day.

“We don’t have to go see everyone.” Suguru murmured into your ear. It was the night before Christmas, and you had just been anxiously carrying on about how badly you didn’t want to get out tomorrow.

His large palm rubbed up and down your arm in a soothing manner as he cradled you in his strong arms. Your head was pressed against his chest, listening to the steady drum of his heart.

“That would be rude.” You murmured.

“As if I’ve ever cared about being rude.” Suguru retorted with a calm smile. He then reached over and flicked off the bedside lamp, cascading your bedroom in darkness.

You two snuggled in each other’s arms, sharing lazy kisses and sweet nothings. It felt like you only managed to blink your eyes before one of your girls were crying over the baby monitor.

Patting the bed next to you, you find nothing but slightly warmed sheets. Geto must’ve already gotten up with the girls. One look at the baby cam has your heart melting.

Your husband’s sleepy eyes are half closed as he has a baby in each arm. He was quietly trying to shush them, speaking softly, “Please, don’t wake up mama. Let her sleep in today, girls. She deserves to rest easy on Christmas.”

You pushed the covers up off of you, unable to resist seeing this moment for yourself. You lean against the nursery doorway as you watch him continue shushing and rocking the twins.

“Merry Christmas, Suguru.” You finally spoke, giving away your presence. Your husband subtly flinched before turning around to meet your gaze.

“Merry Christmas, darling.” He responded before walking over and pressing a kiss to your lips. “I have a surprise for you.” He murmured into your presence.

A crease formed between your eyebrows as you wondered just what he was up to. He carefully nodded towards the window, signaling for you to take a look outside.

The bright light reflecting off the white powdery substance had you shielding your eyes. It must’ve snowed at least 7 inches throughout the night.

“We’re snowed in.” Geto quietly chuckled, pleased with the turn of luck. You two didn’t have to haul the twins to several houses, and you two could just rest easy at home.

NANAMI

Your husband had always been an early riser. He was consistently up earlier than you, even on christmas morning. You were normally really into Christmas, but you never managed to wake up before him.

Even this morning, you drowsily rolled over in your shared bed, trying to find your husband’s presence, but he was no where to be found.

You slowly sit up, rubbing your eyes free from sleep. You were honest surprised that Hana didn’t wake you two up during the night and Yuji hadn’t woke you up either.

Getting out of bed, you see Nanami had already placed your robe and slippers next to the bed for your convenience. You smile before slipping those on and heading downstairs.

“Nanamin, does this bacon need to be flipped?” You hear Yuji’s voice ask. The soft sounds of Bluey playing on the living room TV also fill your ears, and Hana’s soft babbling can be heard as well.

“Yes, go ahead and flip it.” Your husband instructs Yuji. You two had adopted Yuji after the events at Jujutsu Tech. He needed a family, and you two had a loving home that was painfully empty. Now, it was never a dull moment between Yuji and his little sister, Hana.

You quietly creep into the kitchen, and you smile at the sight. Your husband was clad in a white apron that said, “Kiss the chef”. You had gotten it for him long ago, and he still wears it to this day. He was working making some pancakes while Yuji was tending to the bacon.

Hana was in her bouncer chair in the living room. Nanami rarely ever parked her in front of the TV, but walking around with her in a sling wasn’t an option this morning, not when Yuji was frying bacon and she could be popped with it.

“Merry Christmas, you two.” You said, finally announcing your presence. Yuji looked up at you before his lips turned into a pout, and Nanami let out a small chuckle.

“Good morning, darling. You couldn’t sleep for just a few more minutes? Yuji wanted to give you breakfast in bed as a christmas present.” Your husband walked over to you, and he pressed a kiss against your temple.

“Aw, sorry, Yuu. I was excited to see you and Hana open up gifts.” You said with an empathetic smile, and Yuji’s pout vanishes.

“That’s alright! I can give you breakfast on the couch. It’s almost as good as breakfast in bed.” His bright smile quickly returns to him.

“It’s perfect, Yuu.” You say before ruffling his soft pink hair. He was such a good kid. He deserved the world and more.

A little while later, your family was sat upon the couch. Nanami was passing out Christmas gifts. Hana was sat in your lap as you helped her unwrap her gifts. She, of course, wouldn’t remember this, but this would be your favorite memory of all time.

“Let’s give Hana and Yuji another little sibling next Christmas.” You mutter to Nanami as you two watch Yuji and Hana play together on the floor.

“Ew! I heard that!” Yuji pouted, causing for both you and Nanami to laugh.

TOJI

Sweet baby Megumi was just three days old on his first Christmas. You and Toji had been hoping that the doctors were going to finally discharge you and Megumi, so you two could go home on Christmas.

It’s not that you two had any plans. You both came from broken families, but even if you did have family, you two had agreed on no visitors for the first week. You didn’t want to risk Megumi or you getting sick, especially since all the nasty sickness goes around during December.

You two also just wanted to get use to life with a baby. This was your first, and you were young. There was going to be a small adjustment period, and you wanted to worry about that without also worrying about visitors.

Toji was laid up in the hospital bed with you. He didn’t care about the damn policy. His wife just had a baby. He was going to hold her in his arms as much as he could.

Megumi was in your arms, sleeping away peacefully. “He’s got your eyelashes. I’m jealous.” You murmur to Toji as both of you admire your beautiful baby.

“He’s got your mouth.” Toji offered as consolation, and you let out a small giggle.

“That’s all he got from me. I carried him for nine months, and he had the audacity to look like he fell from your ass.” You comment back, making Toji grin down at you.

“Sorry, ma. Those Zenin genes are unfortunately strong.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “If I could have it my way, he would look just like you.”

“No,” You whispered with a heartfelt smile. Tears blurred some of your vision as your hormones were still so out of balance from birthing a child. “He’s perfect. I love him so much already.”

“Don’t cry, ma.” Toji muttered as he used the pad of his thumb to wipe away your tears. This would only be the 20th time you cried over how much you love your son.

A knock at the door startles you both, and your doctor walks in with a pleasant smile. “Merry Christmas, you two.”

“Merry Christmas.” You respond back in a hesitant tone. The thought of the doctor informing both of you that you had to stay another day worried you to no end. Both you and Toji were going stir crazy inside that hospital room.

“I’m sure both of you are ready to take your little bundle of joy home.” The doctor says as he flips through your chart briefly. “So, I’m going to let you go home today.”

Sighs of relief fill the room. It was probably the best Christmas gift you had ever gotten.

Scratch that, seeing Toji do the “hot dad walk” was definitely the best Christmas gift you had ever gotten. He was wearing a black hoodie, carrying a carseat with your son all bundled in, and he was walking out to the car as a nurse pushed you in a wheelchair (you tried denying the wheelchair, but it’s “hospital policy”).

“We’re bad parents.” You cried on the way home. Toji was flabbergasted by how quickly your mood could change.

“We’re not bad parents. Why would you say that, ma?” He asked as he reached over and rubbed your thigh while driving the car. Megumi was peacefully asleep in the back seat.

“We didn’t get our son anything for Christmas.” You mumble through the tears. Megumi was actually due on December 26th, but he decided to come a little early. You two decided that a newborn didn’t need gifts, and you were heavily pregnant, so the idea of wrapping any gifts didn’t spark you any joy.

“Doll, we literally gave him life. Besides, I’ve only known the brat for a couple days. How should I know what to get him?” Toji jokes, trying to make you feel better about the lack of gifts. You let out a small laugh in response.

“I promise, ma. We’ll give him a better Christmas than you and I ever got next year.”

SUKUNA

“My son will worship no false deity. I’m the only god getting worshipper around here.” Sukuna declared as he covered up Ryu’s ears with his hands.

“Santa Claus is not a false deity, Kuna. He’s a fairytale.” You respond back to your husband as you roll your eyes. It’s not even like your sweet baby could even understand what you two were saying about Santa anyways.

It was his first Christmas, and you were trying to introduce both Sukuna and Ryu to the human traditions for the holiday season. It seemed like neither of them were having it.

“Do curses do anything for the winter solstice?” You ask Sukuna, looking up at him from your seat on the floor as you help Ryu unwrap another gift from Santa you and Sukuna.

“We eat a virgin.” The king of curses reply without skipping a beat, causing you to look up at him with disgust and horror. “Oh, don’t worry, flower. You’re safe. I made sure of that long ago.”

You roll your eyes and give him a pity laugh. Sukuna thinks he’s so funny sometimes. “Yeah, I didn’t think anyone would mistake me for a virgin when I have your baby on my hip constantly.”

“You should have another on your other hip.” Sukuna comments with a wolfish grin. Ever since you pushed Ryu, Sukuna had been gunning to get you pregnant again.

“I think one half-curse, half-human baby is enough, Kuna.” You say with a small laugh while jingling a toy in front of Ryu’s face. He giggles happily as he reaches out to grab it from you.

“You’re the only human that gets away with defying me. You know that? I would’ve already dismantled anyone else.” He comments, and you roll your eyes once again. “I should inform Krampus of your disobedience.”

“Wait- curses believe in Krampus?” You ask as you look back up at him, finally intrigued by what he was saying.

“He’s real. There is no believing in him. He goes around and punishes the naughty children, even curse spawn have to worry about Krampus.” Sukuna informed as he propped his head up with his hand and gave a lazy smile. One of his favorite pastimes was teaching you about his culture. He loved how you always listened and absorbed the information while trying to relate it to human culture.

“Isn’t being naughty what curse spawn are meant to be?” You question as you cock an eyebrow. Sukuna gives a low chuckle in response.

“Yes, but they’re still expected to obey their elders as Ryu is expected to obey us.” His large palm gently pats Ryu head, and your son looks up at him with the most innocent of smiles.

Most babies are inherently terrified of Sukuna as if they could sense the danger from him, but Ryu loved his dad and never showed any signs of fear. The sight of you and Ryu playing with toys on Christmas morning was enough for Sukuna’s heart to grow three sizes bigger.

[theonottsbxtch]

EL COQUETO | FC43

an: welcome back as we write about my n.1 pookie, i've got some more works planned for him BUT i've just gotten to france so imma be very busy rip, based off of this request

summary: when franco catches feelings for a journalist who is persuaded he doesn't really want her.

wc: 7.6k

The paddock was alive with energy, buzzing with the hum of engines and the chatter of the press as they swarmed around the new driver. She watched him move through the crowd with ease, a slight swagger in his step and a dazzling smile that had already made him the focus of every camera. He was the story of the weekend: Franco Colapinto, the unexpected mid-season replacement, here to shake up the grid with his flashy driving style—and, evidently, his unapologetic charm.

He caught sight of her, raised an eyebrow in recognition, and made a beeline toward her with the confidence of someone who knew he’d be welcome, even if he hadn’t been invited.

“Hola,” he greeted, his voice carrying a thick, rolling Spanish accent that seemed to coat every word in warmth. “You must be my next question of the day. They warned me about the best journalist here—of course, I was told to behave.”

She gave him a practised smile, cool but polite. “Franco, welcome to the team. How are you feeling about joining mid-season?”

His eyes sparkled, unfazed by the businesslike tone. “How am I feeling?” He leaned in just slightly, as though sharing a secret. “Well, right now, very lucky. They said I’d get tough questions, but they didn’t say the interviewer would be… distracting.”

She fought the urge to look away, just barely managing to keep her composure. “So you feel ready for the pressure, then?” she asked, refocusing, though the tiniest hint of a blush warmed her cheeks.

“For the track? Yes, I am prepared to race anyone.” He paused, letting his gaze linger on her a beat too long. “For the interviews? That remains to be seen. Perhaps you can teach me how to handle that part, sí?”

She could sense her colleagues nearby, some watching with open amusement as they caught his flirtatious energy. Franco was as smooth as they came, that much was certain. But she wouldn’t be the one to crack first.

“I’m sure you’ll learn quickly,” she said, tilting her head, her voice steady, though her heart raced. “Now, back to the race. What are your goals for this weekend?”

His grin broadened, but he played along. “Goals for the weekend,” he echoed thoughtfully, shifting back into the question. “Win a few hearts, break a few records—no particular order.” He winked, and she felt a laugh bubble up before she stifled it, opting instead for a brisk nod.

“Right. Well, I hope you’re ready for the competition,” she managed.

He shrugged, eyes glinting with mischief. “With you here, qué competencia?”

She gave him a pointed look, resisting the smile tugging at her lips. “You know, charm doesn’t score you points on the track.”

“Ah, no?” He tilted his head, feigning surprise. “Then I suppose I’ll have to win the hard way.”

Just then, a flash of cameras went off around them, the media eating up every angle of Franco’s arrival. He seemed entirely unfazed, even performing slightly for the flashes. The crowd around them surged with questions about his plans, about what his first practice would look like, about his last season in Formula 2. But Franco’s attention was still locked on her, and he hadn’t missed a beat.

“So,” he said, with that soft smile of his, “do you think I’ll be able to charm Formula One, or will they be immune to my Argentian ways?”

She gave him a dry smile. “You might have your work cut out for you. It’s not a stroll through Argentina, after all.”

He laughed at that, clearly enjoying her wit. “You’re tough,” he said, a touch of admiration sneaking into his voice. “I can see why you’re the best.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Flattery won’t distract me from the questions, Franco.”

“No? Not even if I try very, very hard?” he asked, drawing out the words with a grin. It was ridiculous, really—the way he leaned into every word, the way he seemed to shine in the spotlight. But there was something endearing about it too, something that felt… unexpectedly genuine.

“Not even then,” she replied, her tone light but steady. “Let’s talk strategy. What’s your focus for your first race?”

He sighed, shifting slightly but keeping that glint in his eye. “Fine, I’ll behave,” he said with a sigh, straightening up to answer. “My focus is simple: get the car under me, push it to its limits, and aim for a strong finish. Maybe even a few surprise overtakes. I’ve been itching to get back on the track.”

It was the most serious answer he’d given yet, and she noted the shift in his voice—a hint of intensity breaking through the smooth, easy charm.

“And your teammate?” she pressed, sensing she’d found the thread to pull him out of his flirtatious veneer. “Are you prepared for the rivalry?”

Franco’s expression turned thoughtful for a moment, a flicker of something sharper in his eyes. “My teammate…” He paused, glancing away briefly before meeting her gaze again. “He’s William’s best. I’ll learn from him, give him the respect he deserves. But I didn’t come here to play second.”

She watched as someone next to her scribbled down his answer, though her mind wandered slightly, wondering at the complexity beneath his charm.

“Good to hear,�� she said, offering a small nod. “We’ll all be watching to see if you live up to that confidence.”

“I live up to my promises,” he replied smoothly. Then he leaned in one last time, lowering his voice just for her. “One of them being to get at least one smile from you by the end of the weekend. I’ll start with that goal.”

Before she could reply, he gave a casual wave to the crowd, moving on to the next journalist as though he hadn’t just made her heart skip a beat with his easy, disarming confidence. She watched him go, flustered despite herself.

One thing was certain: Franco Colapinto was going to be a story.

When the time came, the race had barely begun, but her eyes were already glued to the screen, following the sleek white-and-blue car with Franco’s number emblazoned on the front. Despite her best efforts to stay neutral, to approach this like any other weekend, there was something magnetic about watching him. Franco Colapinto, the audacious rookie, who’d barely spent a week with the team and had taken to the grid without a single day of training in an F1 car.

From the start, it was clear he was playing it differently. He didn’t charge forward recklessly like other rookies might have, eager to prove themselves. Instead, Franco took a few cautious laps, feeling out the car, testing its responses. She noticed how his style evolved lap by lap, each one more aggressive, his moves sharper. He was adapting, learning the car right there in the thick of the race.

As the race progressed, he began to gain ground. Corner after corner, he squeezed every ounce of performance from his machine, edging closer to the pack with each lap. By mid-race, he was overtaking the backmarkers, slipping past seasoned drivers who had years on him, and the commentators were buzzing.

She caught herself smiling, feeling a strange, almost foolish pride as she watched. The memory of his easy, arrogant grin flashed in her mind, his voice low and teasing: “Do you think I’ll charm Formula One?” She’d laughed it off, but he had something special, didn’t he? That hunger for the track, the sheer nerve to go head-to-head with anyone in his way.

Then, as if her thoughts had summoned trouble, the camera cut to his car—a close-up on his visor as he fought for P12. Her heart caught as he made a daring move, threading his car through a razor-thin gap into the next turn. It was reckless, and yet somehow—somehow—he made it stick.

“P12!” The radio crackled through his team radio, their voice as surprised as she felt. For a rookie with zero F1 experience, it was practically a victory.

She exhaled, releasing a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. The chequered flag fell, and Franco’s car slowed down, his voice breaking through the team radio with a triumphant laugh, half-sighing, half-cheering in disbelief at his own result.

When she saw him back in the paddock, she managed to slip past the swarm of journalists waiting to pounce, positioning herself where he’d inevitably cross her path. She didn’t want to admit how much she wanted to hear his version of the race firsthand, to see if the adrenaline still sparkled in his eyes the way it had behind the visor.

When he finally caught sight of her, his face lit up. “Ah, my toughest questioner returns,” he said, the grin wide as he raked a hand through his hair, still tousled from the helmet. “So? Impressed?”

She raised an eyebrow, trying to keep her expression composed. “Not bad for a first race,” she said, voice calm but betraying the slightest hint of a smile. “Though I have to say, you took some pretty risky moves out there.”

Franco laughed, that low, familiar chuckle that could disarm anyone. “You sound like my engineer. But I had to make it interesting, didn’t I?” His gaze softened slightly, the playfulness ebbing for a moment. “I did better than you expected, maybe?”

“Maybe,” she admitted, leaning in just a bit. “I wouldn’t let it go to your head, though.”

He feigned a wince. “Ah, so I’ll have to work harder to impress you, then.”

With that, she couldn’t hold back the smile any longer. “Perhaps,” she said, voice softer. “But you’ve made a start.”

She followed the rest of the press corps into the media pen, her notebook in hand, watching as Franco slipped into his role with practised ease. The other drivers, still catching their breath, answered questions in measured tones, clearly exhausted. But Franco was… well, Franco. He leaned back against the barrier, relaxed, a half-smile playing on his lips as he answered questions, some about his lack of training, others about his shockingly high finish.

She hung back at first, observing him as he effortlessly charmed each journalist in turn, flashing that disarming grin and making even the toughest questions seem like casual conversation. But when his eyes caught hers across the small crowd, he subtly waved her forward, his grin widening.

“Ah, finally,” he said, his tone playful as she approached. “I was starting to think you were hiding from me.” The other journalists shot her curious glances, some smirking at Franco’s obvious interest.

She managed to keep her expression neutral, clearing her throat and lifting her voice to a professional tone. “Franco, congratulations on P12. Quite a debut.”

“Gracias, cariño,” he replied, eyes sparkling. “For a moment, I thought you didn’t think I could do it.”

“Well, you didn’t exactly take the most traditional route,” she shot back, raising an eyebrow. “You had us all on the edge of our seats with those overtakes.”

He leaned in a little, lowering his voice to just above a murmur, his gaze fixed on hers. “I thought about what you said. ‘Charm doesn’t score points.’ So I had to give you something else to smile about.”

She could feel her cheeks warm under his steady gaze, and she fought to keep her expression cool. “Don’t flatter yourself, Franco. I’m just here to report the facts.”

“Hmm,” he said, tapping his chin thoughtfully, though a playful smirk tugged at his lips. “Well, the fact is, I went from P20 to P12 on my first day. But somehow, I think I still haven’t impressed the person who matters most.”

“The person who—?” She trailed off, exasperated. “Franco, you were the story today.”

“Was I?” he asked, the innocent tone entirely ruined by the mischief in his eyes. “Because if I’m the story, you’re the reason it’s a good one.”

Before she could protest, he glanced over her shoulder at the next journalist, nodding politely. Then, in a flash, he was back to her, clearly undeterred. “When can we continue our interview?”

She forced herself to keep her composure. “I think you’ve given me more than enough material for one day.”

“A pity.” He shook his head, though his grin was unmistakable. “Then maybe next time, you’ll be a little more impressed.”

She watched him walk away, shoulders loose and steps casual as he moved from one group of reporters to the next, answering their questions with the same easy confidence he’d shown with her. She could still feel the heat of his gaze, the lingering effect of his words making her pulse quicken.

“Wow.” The journalist next to her, a seasoned reporter with a wry smile, gave her a knowing look. “You okay there? He has that effect, doesn’t he?”

She blinked, quickly snapping out of her daze, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up her neck. “I—yeah, I don’t know what’s going on,” she muttered, shaking her head, trying to compose herself. But she could still hear his words ringing in her ears, his playful teasing, the warmth in his gaze. “The person who matters most.”

“Oh, I think I do.” The other journalist smirked, nodding in Franco’s direction as he laughed and clapped a fellow driver on the shoulder. “It seems Franco over here has a slight crush.”

She scoffed, though it came out more flustered than she’d intended. “Franco has a crush on every woman he talks to. It’s his… thing since he got here.”

The journalist raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Maybe so, but I’ve watched him all day and that was different.”

Her colleague’s words only made her cheeks grow warmer. Was it that obvious? She was used to managing tough interviews, unflappable under pressure, and here she was, thrown off by a driver who hadn’t even been in Formula 1 for a full week. But somehow, Franco’s charm wasn’t just some casual game to him; it felt more… intense. And he’d directed every bit of that intensity straight at her.

The journalist chuckled. “Don’t overthink it. Enjoy the attention—it’s not every day a rookie looks at you like you’re the finish line.”

She glanced away, her lips twitching into a reluctant smile. She didn’t want to admit it, not to her colleague, and definitely not to herself, but there was something in the way he’d looked at her, like she was more than just another journalist, more than just one of the many people crowding his spotlight.

“Well, let’s hope he stays focused on the real finish line,” she replied, aiming for a casual tone that didn’t quite land. But she couldn’t deny it—Franco Colapinto was becoming more than just the story of the weekend. He was starting to feel like her story, too.

Later that evening, she sat in her hotel room, trying to unwind from the chaos of race day. The lights of the city glimmered outside her window, but her mind was still caught on Franco—his effortless charm, that maddening smirk, the way he’d singled her out, even with half the media pen watching. It was absurd, really. She’d covered far bigger stories, spoken with veteran champions, and yet one rookie had managed to leave her feeling more flustered than she’d care to admit.

With a sigh, she scrolled through her phone, halfheartedly catching up on messages, until a notification popped up that made her heart skip.

Francolpainto has sent you a message.

She hesitated, a mix of curiosity and nerves swirling in her stomach as she opened it. The message was simple, casual—like he hadn’t already spent the whole day keeping her off balance.

Franco: Hola! Are you at the hotel?

Before she could talk herself out of it, she typed a quick reply.

Her: Yes, I am.

The response came almost immediately.

Franco: Perfect! I’m downstairs in the lounge. Come have dinner with me?

She stared at the screen, her mind racing. It was tempting—she’d be lying to herself if she said it wasn’t. But she knew his type all too well, didn’t she? The charming new driver who flirted with every journalist, every fan, anyone who would listen. She could already imagine him saying the exact same things to another reporter tomorrow.

No, she couldn’t let herself get pulled in. Not by someone who was probably just looking for a bit of attention.

Her: Thanks, but I think I’ll pass. Long day.

She set the phone down, hoping that would be the end of it, but a new message came through almost instantly.

Franco: Too bad. I was hoping I’d finally get a smile out of you without a hundred cameras around.

She rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t deny the small flutter his words sent through her. He was persistent, that was for sure.

Her: You’re very determined, Franco. But I have to ask—do you make this invitation to all the journalists?

A pause, just a few seconds longer than his usual quick responses. Then, his reply appeared, simple and direct.

Franco: No, just the one who keeps me on my toes.

Her: Pity, this one isn’t intrested.

She set her phone down after typing that, ignoring the little thrill that shot through her when he messaged her again almost immediately. Franco’s charm was undeniably effective, but she wasn’t about to let herself become just another name on his roster of admirers. He’d have to do a lot more than offer a casual dinner invite if he wanted her attention.

Franco: Really? You’re going to turn me down just like that?

She smirked at the screen. Of course he wasn’t used to hearing “no.”

Her: Really. I’ve seen you in action today, Franco. I’m sure you’ll find someone else to keep you company.

A longer pause this time, as if her words had taken him off-guard. When he replied, his tone was more thoughtful.

Franco: That’s not what I meant. Today was… different. I don’t want to go to dinner with just anyone. I want to go with you.

Her heart skipped a beat, but she forced herself to stay firm. She typed a quick reply, keeping it casual.

Her: Nice try. But I’ve seen the way you charm everyone you talk to. You’re going to have to try a lot harder if you want me to believe that.

A few minutes passed, and she wondered if maybe he’d let it go. But just as she was about to put her phone down, another message appeared.

Franco: Okay. Fair enough. How about this: tomorrow, after practice, let me show you what a real date looks like. No crowds, no cameras. Just you and me.

She hesitated, feeling the pull of curiosity mingled with doubt. She knew he could be as persistent as he was charming, and there was something intriguing about his willingness to push past her refusal.

Her: Why should I believe this isn’t just a game to you?

His response came quickly this time, almost earnest.

Franco: Because no one else makes me want to try this hard. I’m not playing around here, cariño. Tell me what I need to do, and I’ll do it.

She smiled, a little thrill rushing through her. For the first time, he seemed genuinely off-balance, unsure, and she couldn’t help but enjoy it.

Her: We’ll see if you mean that. Good luck tomorrow, Franco.

Franco: Gracias. And just so you know… I’m not giving up that easily.

The following week, she found herself in the bustling paddock of the Baku, her eyes catching sight of Franco’s car parked in the paddock. She had to admit, he’d stayed true to his word since their last exchange, staying out of her messages—though his lingering glances and smiles across the paddock hadn’t exactly disappeared. If anything, he seemed more determined, more focused. It was all part of his act, she reminded herself. And yet, there was something undeniably thrilling about it.

She was busy gathering notes when she felt a familiar presence beside her. Franco had sidled up, hands tucked into the pockets of his team jacket, his easygoing grin making her pulse quicken in spite of herself.

“Back to cheer me on, sí?” he asked, eyes bright with that familiar mischief.

She held back a smile, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “I’m here to cover the race, Franco. Your cheering section is back there.” She nodded to the growing crowd of fans waving his name on signs with Argentinan flags just a few metres away.

He laughed, the sound warm and rich. “They’re great, sure, but I was looking for one particular fan. The one who told me I’d have to work harder if I wanted to impress her.”

She raised an eyebrow, stepping out of earshot of the nearest camera. “Oh, you remember that, do you?”

“Every word,” he said, his gaze steady. “I thought about it all week.”

A small thrill ran through her, though she kept her voice steady and her tone cool. “Well, if you’re serious, you’ll have to do better than last week’s P12. Otherwise, it just looks like more talk.”

His expression shifted, his easy grin giving way to a flash of determination. “If it’s a higher position you want,” he said, leaning in just slightly, “then I’ll get it. Just keep watching.”

She crossed her arms, fighting the smile tugging at her lips. “I’ll be watching, Colapinto. Don’t disappoint me.”

He held her gaze for a moment, his eyes flickering with something that felt genuine, earnest. “I don’t plan to,” he murmured, stepping back with a wink before heading toward his car.

As he disappeared into the garage, her heart raced. Franco Colapinto, the rookie charmer, was setting out to prove himself to her. And, as much as she hated to admit it, she was looking forward to seeing if he could keep his promise.

She sat in the media centre, eyes locked on the screen as the race unfolded. Franco’s car was easy to spot, weaving its way through the pack with a precision she hadn’t expected. He was starting further up this time, P18, but it was still a long shot to even think he’d break into the top ten. Yet as the laps ticked by, he held his ground, pushing, clawing his way forward with a tenacity that had everyone watching in awe.

“Impressive for a rookie,” she overheard another journalist mutter, and she felt a strange pang of pride.

Halfway through the race, Franco made a daring overtake, squeezing past two midfield drivers into P10. She sat forward, barely breathing. He wasn’t just hanging on—he was gaining, going after every single opportunity on the track with a fierceness she hadn’t seen before.

He’d promised her he’d finish higher than last week, and she’d thought it was just talk, maybe a little playful charm. But here he was, proving her wrong lap by lap.

By the time he made it to P9, she was leaning forward in her seat, clutching her notebook tightly. And then, with a bold move on the final few laps, he passed another driver, slipping into P8. Her heart raced as she watched him hold his ground, fending off the competition, determined to keep the position he’d fought so hard for. The chequered flag dropped, and Franco crossed the line in P8.

She exhaled, a rush of surprise and admiration flooding through her. She’d known he was talented, of course—he wouldn’t have made it this far otherwise. But this? Climbing ten positions in a single race, all for a chance to prove himself to her? It was more than she’d expected.

As the race ended, she moved through the paddock, her mind whirling. Franco Colapinto, the charming rookie who flirted with everyone, had just delivered one of the most impressive drives of the day. For her. And she wasn’t sure if she was more impressed with his skill or his determination to keep his word.

She barely had a chance to catch her breath before she was back in the paddock, microphone in hand, ready to take on the post-race interviews. As she waited for Franco, she replayed his climb through the ranks in her mind—his nerve, his timing, the way he’d handled himself on the track. It wasn’t just impressive; it was astonishing. And as much as she tried to shake it off, she couldn’t ignore the small thrill that ran through her at the thought that he’d done it, in part, for her.

Finally, Franco appeared, still in his race suit his face glistening with the sheen of hard work. There was a slight glimmer of triumph in his eyes as he spotted her, a grin spreading across his face. He walked over, ignoring the other cameras and reporters, his gaze focused squarely on her.

She raised her microphone, keeping her expression as neutral as she could. “Franco Colapinto, P8—your second race in Formula 1, and already a massive improvement from last week. Can you walk us through it?”

He took a quick breath, then leaned in, a spark of mischief in his eyes. “Well, you know, someone told me I had to get higher than P12 if I wanted to impress them,” he said, his tone light but his gaze steady on hers. “So I did it for them. Great motivation.”

Heat crept up her neck, and she forced herself to stay focused. She could feel the eyes of the other journalists and team members on them, her colleagues probably smirking at his obvious attempt to fluster her, but she managed to hold her ground.

“Impressive,” she said, keeping her voice level. “And this ‘motivation’—I assume it’s the same one who’s kept you on your toes all week?”

Franco’s grin grew wider, unabashed. “Absolutely. Turns out, when someone challenges me, I take it seriously.” He shifted his stance, his gaze softening just a fraction. “And if they ask, I’ll do it again.”

A few people around them chuckled, and she fought the urge to roll her eyes. This wasn’t the usual post-race banter, and he didn’t seem interested in giving anyone the typical driver answers. He was speaking to her as if they were alone, and for a brief moment, she almost forgot the cameras.

“Well, whatever you’re doing,” she replied, finally letting a small smile slip, “it seems to be working. P8 is no small feat.”

He tilted his head, as if studying her. “Then maybe next week, you’ll set the bar even higher for me?” His voice was low, just enough for her to hear.

She felt her resolve waver slightly, but managed to maintain her professionalism. “We’ll see, Colapinto. For now, let’s just focus on how you plan to keep this up.”

He chuckled, shifting his grip on his helmet. “Oh, I think I have all the motivation I need right here.” With one last grin and a wink, he turned to greet the other journalists, leaving her to process what was easily the most disarming post-race interview she’d ever conducted.

Later that night, she was back in her hotel room, unwinding with a cup of tea, trying to shake off the lingering thrill of Franco’s performance—and his audacity in the post-race interview. She still couldn’t believe how he’d shamelessly directed half of his answers at her, leaving her just as off-balance as he had on the track. But as much as she tried to dismiss it, her thoughts kept circling back to his determination, his promise that he’d push harder just because she’d challenged him.

Her phone buzzed with a message, and she glanced down to see it was from the William’s Instagram Account.

Team Rep: Hey, what’s your room number?

She frowned for a moment, surprised by the casualness of the message. But teams occasionally followed up with journalists for clarifications or comments, especially after high-profile performances like Franco’s. Assuming they needed to drop off some post-race press notes or team statements, she quickly typed back her room number.

Her: Room 914.

Team Rep: Perfect. Thanks.

Not even a minute later, she heard a quiet knock on her door. She glanced at the time, wondering if the team rep had come by himself. But when she opened the door, the hallway was empty. Instead, resting on the floor in front of her was a beautiful bouquet of wildflowers—vibrant, unruly, and charmingly imperfect, wrapped with a small card slipped between the stems.

Her pulse quickened. She didn’t have to check the note to know exactly who had left them.

Still, curiosity got the best of her, and she crouched down, carefully lifting the bouquet to pull the card free.

“To my motivation: thank you for the push. Let’s raise the stakes again soon. — F.

A soft, reluctant smile tugged at her lips. She felt the warmth creeping up her cheeks, aware that Franco Colapinto had managed to surprise her again. It was a move so bold, so unexpected—and, somehow, more genuine than any casual dinner invitation could have been.

She sighed, shaking her head but unable to fight the smile any longer. As she placed the flowers on the table, their vibrant petals catching the soft light, she couldn’t help but wonder what Franco would pull next to prove himself. Because one thing was certain: he wasn’t giving up. And maybe, just maybe, she didn’t want him to.

She couldn’t resist. Picking up her phone, she sent a quick message, keeping it light, casual.

Her: Cute.

It didn’t take long for his response to pop up.

Franco: Oh? You find me cute?

She rolled her eyes, though her heart skipped a beat as she typed back.

Her: No, the flowers were a cute move.

A beat passed, and then came his reply, playful but edged with a hint of something more.

Franco: Well, then… would you let the guy behind the cute move take you out for dinner?

She hesitated, fingers hovering over her phone. She knew what this looked like—a line blurred between work and something personal, maybe too personal. And for him, a rookie who’d just broken into the sport, one misstep could easily become a distraction he couldn’t afford. It wasn’t just her reputation, but his too, and the stakes felt higher than either of them probably realised.

Her: I don’t know, Franco. There’s too much on the line.

A pause, longer than his usual quick responses, and for a moment she thought maybe he’d let it go. Then his reply came through, brief and simple.

Franco: Okay.

She stared at the word, an unexpected pang of disappointment catching her off guard. Franco, usually so persistent, so bold, had accepted her hesitation without a fight. But as much as she wanted to push away her own reservations, she knew she was right. Still, the thought of him backing off now left her feeling… unbalanced.

Setting the phone down, she let out a sigh, glancing over at the flowers resting on her table. A small part of her wondered if maybe, just maybe, she’d made the wrong choice.

Four weeks later, they were back at the track, Austin, the usual energy humming through the paddock as teams and drivers prepared for the weekend ahead. She found herself scanning the garages, a little spark of nerves in her chest that had nothing to do with work. Franco had kept his distance over the past few weeks—well, as much distance as someone like him could manage. He was still his playful, charismatic self with the press, charming everyone in sight, but there was something different. He hadn’t followed up on his dinner invitation, hadn’t tried to push beyond her boundaries. She told herself it was for the best. Still, a small part of her couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d been too cautious.

Just then, she spotted him near the team’s garage, leaning against the wall in his race suit around his hips, deep in conversation with one of his engineers. When he looked up and saw her, his face lit up, a grin breaking across his face as if no time had passed. She felt a little of that old thrill in her chest as he walked over.

“Hola, stranger,” he greeted, hands tucked into his pockets of his team jacket, his voice as warm and casual as ever. “Miss me?”

She rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “You were just here four weeks ago, Colapinto. Don’t flatter yourself.”

He chuckled, giving her that familiar, playful look. “Four weeks is a long time, don’t you think?”

She shook her head, feeling a bit of the tension from the past month melt away. Whatever her own doubts, Franco hadn’t let her brush-off change him—he was still here, as charming and persistent as ever. And somehow, that lifted a weight off her shoulders.

“Have you been behaving?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. “Or should I be prepared for more unexpected flower deliveries?”

Franco’s grin grew wider, his eyes flashing with that spark she was growing dangerously used to. “Depends. You miss them?”

She laughed softly, looking down to avoid letting him see her smile. “I’d hardly admit that if I did.”

He leaned in just slightly, his voice lowering. “Good thing I’m a patient man, then. Because I’m not done yet.” There was a softness to his tone, a hint of something genuine beneath his usual confidence, and it made her heart skip a beat.

Despite herself, she found comfort in his persistence, in his way of toeing the line between serious and playful without putting any pressure on her. For all his charm, he hadn’t crossed any lines. He was waiting, leaving the door open if she ever wanted to step through.

As he turned to head back toward his car, he glanced over his shoulder, giving her a wink. “You know where to find me if you change your mind, cariño. I’ll be around.”

And with that, he disappeared into the garage, leaving her standing there with a soft smile, feeling just a little lighter, a little braver.

She found herself glued to the screen as the race unfolded, Franco’s car darting through the pack with all the finesse and raw determination she’d come to recognise in him. Starting from P17, he had a long climb ahead of him, and as the laps ticked down, he kept gaining ground, his timing sharp, his decisions bold. He was relentless, working his way through the grid with an intensity that kept her at the edge of her seat.

By the halfway mark, he was already up to P12, and she could feel the anticipation building among the journalists and crew around her. Franco wasn’t just driving; he was fighting for every single position, taking advantage of each moment with an almost calculated risk. And he was doing it with the confidence that had both frustrated and charmed her from the start.

Then, in the final laps, with a daring overtake on the inside line, he claimed P10. A top ten finish. It was almost too perfect—his words from the last race echoing in her mind as he crossed the line: “If they ask, I’ll do it again.”

The paddock was buzzing with excitement as she made her way toward the media pen, preparing herself for the post-race interview. She tried to tamp down the flutter of nerves, reminding herself that he’d been charming his way through interviews with her for weeks now. But there was something different this time, a spark of pride mingled with her excitement, and she couldn’t wait to see him walk in.

When he finally appeared, the smile on his face was brighter than she’d ever seen. Still in his race suit, a towel on his head, he strode over to her with that familiar glint of mischief in his eyes. She raised her microphone, struggling to keep her voice steady.

“Franco Colapinto,” she began, her own smile betraying just a hint of the thrill she felt. “P10 from P17—congratulations. Tell us, how did you manage such an impressive climb?”

He grinned, leaning casually into the microphone. “Well, you know me. I like a good challenge,” he said, his gaze holding hers for a second longer than necessary. “And I couldn’t let down the one person who told me I had to keep improving.”

The implication wasn’t lost on anyone listening, and she felt a blush rise to her cheeks. She rolled her eyes slightly, playing it off as best she could. “Seems like you’re making a habit of climbing positions to impress,” she replied, keeping her tone light.

Franco’s smile softened, turning almost genuine. “For some things,” he said, his voice low enough that only she could hear, “it’s worth the effort.”

She swallowed, momentarily at a loss for words, but managed to pull herself together, keeping the interview rolling. “Well, you’ve certainly earned that P10. What’s the plan for next time? Any more surprise performances in store?”

“Oh, definitely,” he replied, flashing her a grin. “But let’s say I’ll aim higher than P10 next time. If someone out there is willing to set a new challenge for me, I’ll be ready.” His words hung in the air, a subtle invitation that made her heart skip a beat.

She couldn’t hold back her smile as she wrapped up the interview, his gaze lingering on her with that same unspoken promise. And as she watched him walk away, her heart raced with the thrill of what might come next, realising that maybe—just maybe—she was ready to see where this challenge would lead.

As Franco walked away, she felt the lingering warmth of his gaze, that same thrill coursing through her that she’d tried so hard to brush off. But now, it seemed, she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to. The interview had felt like more than just a casual exchange; his words, his look—there was something real beneath the flirtation, something she found herself wanting to chase.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of post-race coverage and media duties, but her thoughts kept drifting back to him, to the way his eyes had held hers, steady and genuine, as he’d promised to aim even higher. It was only when she caught herself looking around the paddock, almost instinctively, that she realised she was seeking him out. By then, her professional caution had faded, replaced by something far less reasonable but far more enticing.

She knew she was violating so many unspoken rules as she made her way around the paddock, ducking out of the more crowded paths and slipping past the occasional lingering crew member. A pang of guilt buzzed at the back of her mind, but it was no match for the magnetic pull drawing her toward his driver’s room.

She stopped outside the door, exhaling a shaky breath as her pulse raced with a mix of nerves and anticipation. The hallway was quiet, the sounds of the bustling paddock fading away. Before she could second-guess herself, she raised her hand and knocked softly.

The door opened, and there he was, in a grey tracksuit and plain black top, his expression shifting from surprise to that warm, familiar smile that had always managed to disarm her.

“Well,” he said, leaning against the doorframe, his voice dropping to a low murmur, “I didn’t expect my motivation to show up in person.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was no hiding her smile. “I figured I’d come to make sure you’re planning to keep your word. That climb to P10 wasn’t exactly a small feat.”

His smile softened, and he stepped aside, wordlessly inviting her in. As the door clicked shut behind them, the noise and pressures of the paddock slipped away, leaving just the two of them. The look he gave her—warm, unguarded, and almost vulnerable—made her heart skip a beat.

She’d broken so many of her own rules just to get here, but in this moment, she couldn’t bring herself to regret a single one.

Taking a moment to look around, she noticed his bags were packed and ready for the triple header and that there was nowhere to sit.

She sat on the edge of his bed, trying to look at ease despite the heat rising in her cheeks. Franco stood in front of her, close enough that her knees brushed his legs. The room felt charged with his presence, the quiet intensity in his gaze making it impossible to look away.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here,” he murmured, leaning down a bit. The way his dark eyes lingered on her, sweeping over her face and holding her gaze, sent a rush of warmth through her.

She felt a smile tugging at her lips, trying to keep her voice steady. “Figured I’d make sure you’re holding up after all that hard work.”

He chuckled, his voice low, with just a hint of playfulness. “Oh, I’m holding up just fine.” He reached out, fingers brushing a loose strand of hair from her cheek, letting his thumb linger just a moment too long against her skin. “In fact, I think I’m doing better than fine.”

Her cheeks flushed even deeper, but she held his gaze, determined not to let him throw her off-balance—at least not completely. “You know,” she said, trying to match his tone, “you don’t have to turn everything into a line, Colapinto.”

Franco tilted his head, a smile playing on his lips. “Only with you, cariño.”

She let out a soft laugh, her heartbeat picking up as he moved closer, until he was standing right between her legs. She felt his fingers trace gently along her jawline, his thumb tilting her chin up so she was looking directly into his eyes.

“Not used to being flirted with, cariño?” he asked softly, his voice smooth and teasing.

She swallowed, feeling her blush deepen as her usual composure slipped. “No… not like this.”

“Shame,” he murmured, his thumb grazing her cheek as his eyes searched hers, warm and intent. His voice softened, and the playfulness gave way to something more genuine. “Because I’m just getting started.”

She felt her breath hitch, her pulse racing as his words sank in, leaving her both disarmed and impossibly drawn in. And in that moment, she realised that every wall she’d put up around him was slipping away, piece by piece.

For a moment, she couldn’t take her eyes off him, the air between them thick with anticipation. Then, she noticed the small silver chain dangling from his neck, glinting faintly against the fabric of his black top, and without thinking, she reached up, wrapping her fingers around it gently.

Franco’s gaze flickered in surprise, his breath catching as she tugged on the chain, pulling him just close enough that their faces were inches apart. She could feel the warmth radiating from him, and the intensity of his gaze sent a thrill through her that made her heart pound. His hands settled on either side of her hips as he leaned in, their breaths mingling in the charged silence.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she closed the space between them, pressing her lips to his. The kiss was tentative at first, soft and exploratory, but the warmth in his response was immediate. His hand slid up her back, pulling her closer, and she felt his fingers tangling in her hair as he deepened the kiss, his touch gentle yet confident.

She didn’t realise how tightly she was gripping his chain until she felt his hand cover hers, his thumb tracing lightly over her knuckles as if to say, I’m here.

When they finally parted, both of them slightly breathless, Franco looked at her, hand caressing her cheek, his smile soft and real, devoid of his usual playfulness. He looked at her with a quiet intensity that made her stomach flip.

“You know," he started, his voice dipping into that smooth, charming tone, “I thought I never had a chance with you. You made me work for every single look, every smile…” He shook his head, his hand still resting against her cheek, his thumb brushing just beneath her jaw. “I was convinced you’d never actually let me get this close.”

She felt a warm, amused smile tugging at her lips as she listened to him, his words genuine but tinged with that familiar, playful charm. Watching him, her heart surged with an undeniable impulse, one she didn’t want to ignore any longer. In one fluid motion, she slid her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down, pressing her lips to his again with a fierce, unrestrained intensity that sent sparks through her.

Franco’s surprise melted instantly, his hands slipping from her cheek to either side of her hips, matching her passion. The kiss deepened, turning slower, almost reverent, as if neither of them wanted the moment to end. She could feel his pulse racing under her hands, his warmth overwhelming in the most exhilarating way.

Without breaking the kiss, she leaned back, drawing him down with her onto the bed. She felt his weight settle gently over her, his hands bracing on either side of her as he kissed her with a hunger that felt both new and inevitable. When he finally pulled back just slightly, his lips hovering over hers, his voice was breathless, a bit dazed.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmured, his fingers tracing down her arm as he held her gaze, a vulnerable softness there she hadn’t seen before.

“Good,” she whispered back, her own voice unsteady, feeling as though her walls were completely gone now. “Because I don’t plan on making it easy for you.”

A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned down, his mouth finding hers again with an eagerness that left them both completely lost in each other, as if the rest of the world had faded away.

Maybe he was worth the wait.

the end.

[lovelivision]

BAD ROMANCE.ᐟ

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: gojo satoru/reader

𝐖𝐂: 9.4k

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: your love life is in a tragic state, all your dates go poorly and just when you think you found a nice guy you could like, that ends poorly too. good thing you have your best friend gojo to look out for you !

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ only, smut, f!reader, she/her pronouns used, cheating (not done by reader or gojo), dirty talk, cunnilingus, fingering, spitting, praise, p in v sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, big dick!gojo, tease/mean!gojo (he likes embarrassing reader), jealous!gojo, gojo is down BAD, use of pet names, that's all !! (i think :3)

Checking the time again, you sigh, it’s bordering on an hour since you first sat down to wait for your date. The thought that you had been stood up entered your mind maybe half an hour ago but now it’s practically been cemented.

Maybe you should just cut your losses and leave but this is a nice place, it’d be a shame to waste the reservation. Hope that your date is going to miraculously show up has left you though. Opening your texts, you think of who to message, the idea to message Gojo briefly crossing your mind before you decide he is the worst possible person to tell about this.

Instead, you message Shoko, asking if she’s free and telling her of your failed date. It takes her a few minutes to reply and when she does, instead of a straightforward response, you receive a cryptic and ambiguous saluting emoji. Deciding to take that as confirmation of her presence, you begin waiting… again.

You think you’ve reached your waiting quota of the year, no more waiting on people. Why do people never seem to value your time? While lamenting to yourself silently, you don’t notice the arrival of someone incredibly familiar, someone incredibly exasperating.

“I’m hurt you know.”

The words startle you and as you look up to find the source of them, you’re confronted with Gojo standing beside you. Pouting like he’s feeling extremely slighted by you for some indiscernible reason.

You almost sputter at him, his presence completely unexpected, “What are you doing here?”

He ignores your question, continuing with his faux pain, “My best friend gets stood up and instead of messaging me… she messages Shoko? That stings.”

Sighing off his dramatics, you ask again, “What are you doing here, Gojo?”

“What else would I be here for?” He smiles big at you, moving to sit in the chair opposite you, flopping down and making himself comfortable, “I’m here to be your date!”

Propping your head up on your hand, you grumble at him, “How did you even know I was stood up?”

“I was with Shoko when you messaged her,” he shrugs easily.

You squint at him, “Why are you here and not her?”

“Because it is my duty as your best friend to be there for you.”

So stubborn about the weirdest things, you’ve known each other forever and sure, maybe he is your best friend, but this is something that has bruised your ego a bit. It’s silly, but for some reason… you don’t really want for Gojo to see you like this.

Sulking, you huff, “It’s not a big deal, I just didn’t wanna waste the reservation.”

“Don’t lie, you dressed up all cute and the dude couldn’t even be bothered to show up?” He frowns like he’ll get angry if he thinks about it for too long, “It’s a big deal.”

“You’re more upset about it then I am,” you play at indifference and while you don’t really care about your failed date, you are thinking really hard about how he said you dressed cute.

“That’s just ‘cause you’re always settling for less than what you deserve,” he grows a little more irritated, like his observation annoys him more than it annoys you.

Defending yourself with a grumble, “That’s not true.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he smiles in a manner that exudes disbelief. Because it does, Gojo has witnessed you settle for less nearly every single day of your lives and every time he has to grit his teeth and cope.

Crossing your arms, you snark at him, “Don’t patronise me, Gojo.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he still has that smile plastered on his face.

You glare at him from across the table but sit in silence, not really having anything else to say to him right now. Annoyed at yourself for losing the back and forth between the two of you for not the first time and definitely not the last.

Gojo, however, is not capable of sitting in silence for too long and so, he whines at you, “Anyways, I thought I was always your first call when things went wrong.”

Looking away from him, you scratch at the back of your neck awkwardly, “You are… for other things.”

Catching onto your meaning, he asks, “So, you never call me when things go wrong on dates?”

“…Correct.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not really something I thought would matter to you this much.” The truth is, you’ve been on much worse dates, dates where they actually show up but prove themselves to be some of the worst people. You always call Shoko though… that or you just brush it off.

Telling Gojo about your dating life feels weird, it’s not like he tells you about his.

His mouth downturns at your remark, “Anything that involves you matters to me.”

“It’s not like you tell me about your dating life,” you counter, starting to feel somewhat badly.

“I would, if I had one,” he leans back into his chair more, “I’m not currently dating though.”

Sheepishly, you say, “Oh…well…I am.”

“I know that now,” his eyes focus on you, “Just how many dates have you gone on recently?”

“Recently?” he nods at you, “Uhm… a few every couple of weeks, not heaps but… frequently enough that getting stood up isn’t the worst thing to happen to me lately.” You laugh slightly at a memory, “You know, on one of them, the guy actually got back with his ex during our date, like he–”

You cut yourself off when you realise Gojo isn’t experiencing the same amount of enjoyment at the recounting of your date a few weeks ago. “Why is this bugging you?”

“It’s not,” his tone is certain but the expression he’s wearing is anything but. Clearly annoyed by something.

Challenging his logic, you ask, “Do you want me to tell you about my dating life?”

He thinks on it for a second, “No.”

Tilting your head at him, “See? That’s what I thought–”

“–But I want you to call me when things go badly,” his gaze even on you, unwavering.

“You’re annoying,” you huff out a breath.

His face brightens up again, “And yet I’m still your best friend.”

You can only roll your eyes at him because he’s right, he’s completely annoying and also completely your best friend.

★

After that failed date that turned into you having dinner with Gojo, you decided you would listen to him and call him whenever a date goes south. He seemed actually bothered by the fact you weren’t relying on him more, so you decided that if something does go wrong, you’d tell him about it.

However, your dating life has been going pretty swimmingly the past couple weeks. You’ve actually found someone you wouldn’t mind being with, having gone on a few dates with him now. You’ve pretty much been exclusively seeing him, he’s taken you out for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Previous dates barely made it through one meal, but this guy managed to appeal to you enough to take you out multiple times.

It’s your fault that you got your hopes up, thinking that maybe he was different but as you sit on the couch in his apartment, his assumed girlfriend yelling at him, you can see he’s just like everyone else in the dating scene these days. It’s that or you just have really bad luck when it comes to your romantic life.

For the third time, you try to leave but he holds you back, “Wait no, please don’t go, this is just a misunderstanding!”

You shrug him off you, his touch making you feel disgusting.

Going to say something in reply, but his girlfriend speaks first, “So now you’re cheating on me and trying to keep her here?”

He sputters, like he forgot she was here for a moment, “No! Babe, I’m not cheating on you!”

Awkwardly, you scratch at the back of your neck, “Listen, I’m going to be so honest, I think you’re a bad person and any interest I had in you is gone. I’d just really like to leave now.”

He’s wearing an annoyed look on his face, “How do you even expect to get home? I drove you here.”

She scoffs at him from by the door, foot tapping impatiently, “Now you’re offering her a ride home? Are you fucking serious right now?”

Walking to the front door, you shuffle around his girlfriend, “I’m just gonna… slide right past you.” Pausing after opening the door and turning back to address her, “Uhm… Just in case he tries lying to you… we went on multiple dates over the past couple weeks.” Standing awkwardly for an extra moment as her face twists in realisation, “Bye!” You rush out the door, speed walking to the elevator.

The screaming and yelling gets louder from their apartment, able to hear them until you finally get in the elevator and start heading down to the ground floor. In the lobby, you pull out your phone and sigh dejectedly, scrolling for Gojo’s contact, you need a ride home.

He picks up pretty quickly, “Hello?”

You get straight to the point, not feeling particularly great right about now, “…I need a ride home.”

“Well, good evening to you too,” he replies, voice full of mirth, “You know. people normally exchange pleasantries over the phone before immediately asking for things, I’ve been told – by you actually – that just asking for things straight up can be read as rude, so–”

“–Satoru.”

The use of his name has him going quiet, stopping his tangent instead to ask, “Where are you?”

You’re tired, your mood travelling through the phone as you answer, “Some apartment, I’ll text you the address…”

“You okay?” He checks.

You can’t help the pause before your reply, “…Yeah.”

His concern for you growing at your seeming uncertainty, “You gonna tell me what happened?”

It’s a little embarrassing, you think, but yeah, you’ll tell him about it, “Later… I just wanna go home now.”

“Alright, I’ll be there soon.” He hangs up before you get to thank him.

You text him the address and then head out the front of the building, waiting for him to get you. While you’re waiting, you find yourself wondering if that girl will stay with him, you hope she doesn’t, she deserves better than him.

When Gojo pulls up, you silently slip into the passenger seat, you’re expecting him to immediately drive away but he turns and looks at you. His eyes examining you carefully, scrutinising you.

Turning your head to the side, “What?”

“Just making sure you’re okay.” His hands reach out and for a second you think he’s going to touch you, but he pulls on the seatbelt and clicks it into place for you.

You mumble out at him, dismissive, “I’m fine.”

He hums at you, in that way that tells you he doesn’t believe you even a little bit but he’s letting it go for now. Instead focusing on getting you home.

Back at your apartment, Gojo follows you all the way inside, you thought maybe he would just drop you home and leave you alone, but he’s followed you into your living room. You don’t know if you have the energy for him right now, feeling so drained. Probably feeling this way because you’re incapable of finding a decent guy to date.

Couch looking so inviting, you flop down onto it face first, mumbling out, “Gojo, will you just be my boyfriend?”

He seems taken aback by your sudden ask, choking on his own spit, coughing out a confused, “What?”

Sighing, you cryptically answer, “I don’t think I’m built for the dating scene.”

When he finishes hacking up a lung, he taps your legs, to which you hold them up so he can sit down. His hand tugging them back down once he’s sat, “What happened, sweetheart?”

Your voice is still muffled by the couch cushions, “Been seeing a guy for a couple weeks now–”

“–The same one?” Gojo cuts you off.

Humming out a, “Yes and–”

Again, he cuts you off, “–That’s pretty serious…”

I know but­–”

“–Why didn’t you tell me about him?” His tone growing slightly alarmed by the apparent seriousness of your dating life.

Becoming somewhat annoyed, you push yourself out of the cushions and sit up to face him, your legs still resting in his lap, “You said you didn’t wanna hear about my dating life.” You point an accusatory finger at him.

“Yeah, but casually dating and actively seeing someone is different–” He’s not really sure if he’s making a fair point or not but sticking to it like he is.

“–Does it matter?” You’re looking at him incredulously, not sure if there is a difference.

He’s steadfast in his opinion, “Of course it matters.”

“I don’t think it should, especially since–”

“–If you’re seeing the same guy multiple times that means you were actually interested in him­–” He’s annoyed at himself for not realising you were seeing the same guy, for not asking questions, not realising how serious you were getting about one guy. So caught up in this one fact that he’s lost sight of his original purpose of being here.

“–Can you stop cutting me off!” You raise your voice at him, getting sick of how much he’s been interrupting you, “I’ve been trying to tell you that he had a girlfriend the whole time,” you purse your lips and look away from him, feeling embarrassed, “That’s why I asked you to come get me.”

“Oh…” He feels bad now.

“…Yeah, she showed up while I was there, and it was really uncomfortable, and I didn’t exactly feel safe.” You sigh, slumping, “And now I just feel really bad about dating.”

Completely serious when he suggests, “Maybe you should stop.”

“Stop dating?”

Consistent in his confirmation, “Yes.”

Meeting his gaze again, “How else am I going to meet someone?”

He rolls his eyes at your question, irritated for reasons unknown to you, “Why do you need to date someone now anyways?”

You don’t really see his point, what does he mean ‘why?’… why else do people date? “Maybe I’m lonely, maybe I seek companionship, maybe I’m like every other normal person?”

“You have me though,” you’d think he was joking if he weren’t so straight faced.

Unsure how to go about answering when it seems pretty straight forward to you, “Gojo… that’s not the same thing, we’re friends, we don’t look at each other that way.”

“Says you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I’d date you in a heartbeat,” he folds his arms over his chest, “In fact, you’re the only person I want to date.”

You can’t tell if he’s teasing or not, “Get real, that’s not what I meant.”

His head tilts at you, “What did you mean then?”

“I’m talking about romantic and sexual attraction,” you’re avoiding his gaze again.

So casual in how he bluntly asks, “You think I’m not sexually attracted to you?”

His question catches you off guard slightly, “It’s not just about sexual attraction, Gojo,” you shake your head, “if that were the case, I’d just be having one night stands all the time, I want a relationship with someone…”

He nods his head like he suddenly understands, “Ah, so you think I’m not romantically interested in you?”

“You shouldn’t be.”

“Why not?”

Disbelieving when you look at him, “Are you serious right now? We’re friends.”

“Yeah, we are friends, but I also happen to be romantically and sexually attracted to you.”

How do you even respond to a confession like that? He’s not even flustered, completely nonchalant in how he’s just told you that he’s interested in you. “I don’t think–”

“–Are you going to tell me you’re not interested in me? Even a little bit?”

“We’re friends.”

“Is that the only thing stopping you?” He doesn’t wait for your answer, “Because if it is, then it’s a little arbitrary, no?”

The beginning of a frown settles on your features, “What are you trying to get me to say? That I’d date you if we weren’t friends, that I’d fuck you?”

He smiles at you, “Sure, but if you would if we weren’t friends, I’m saying you should even though we are.”

Frown deepening, “You’re being serious?”

“I’m being so serious,” he leans in slightly, hand moving to your face, thumb smoothing over the crease between your brows.

Looking at his lips before catching yourself and turning your head to the side, away from his touch, away from his enticing lips.

He sighs at your reaction, “You know, I’ve been interested in you from the beginning, and maybe I’m an idiot for not saying anything but watching you seriously try dating someone else might just kill me.”

You had no idea he liked you, you’ve liked him at different points in your life too, but he always seemed so out of reach from you, and you never wanted to ruin the friendship, so you forced yourself to move on. It feels a little unfair that you’re finding out now he’s liked you the whole time, “What are you asking of me?”

“I’m asking you to give me a chance,” his hand gently guides your face to look at him again, “I’m asking you to seriously try dating me.”

You’re trying to make a decision, trying to figure out how to answer him, if you should even give him a chance but the way he’s looking at you, how his gaze flicks between your eyes and your lips is distracting you.

Brows pulling up, voice quieter than before, “Gojo, you need to stop looking at me like that if you want an answer.”

“Like what?” He plays dumb.

“Like you really wanna kiss me,” you murmur back.

“Can’t help it…” he leans in a little bit more, “Maybe if you let me kiss you, I’ll stop.”

“Satoru,” you warn.

“Hmm?” His eyes meet yours for a moment, trying to see what you want.

He’s making you dizzy, “I can’t make a choice when you’re this close.”

Humming at you, “Why not?”

“Can’t think,” you blurt it out before really thinking about how it will come across.

He’s smiling smugly, “Then don’t.”

You don’t know who leans in first, all you know is his lips are on yours and they’re soft. Kissing you gently, trying to learn how you like to be kissed. Growing more insistent the longer you let him kiss you, the years of his need bleeding into it.

One of his hands traveling down your body, resting on your hip, the other cradling your face. He’s leaning into you more, pushing your body down into the couch, him following behind it, never parting from your lips very long.

Hand now holding himself above you, kiss growing urgent, tongue licking into your mouth, meeting yours in a way that makes your body tingle. If you thought his proximity was making you dizzy before than his kiss might have you actually passing out. Skin growing hot at how his hand on your face angles you, how he deepens the kiss effortlessly.

If Gojo were more aware of himself, of the precarious position he’s put himself in, he might be a little bit more careful with how feverish his kisses are and how needy he’s getting but when he’s finally getting to kiss you after years of not being able to, he can’t really control himself. The little control he does have, slipping when you moan into his mouth, his own moan shared in the kiss.

It's you who parts the kiss, it had to be because he certainly wasn’t going to be able to do it. If he had his way, he’d have his mouth on you until he died. In the back of his mind, he knew that kissing you would be good, but he didn’t think he’d get so lost in it. Somewhat embarrassed at himself for how aroused he’s gotten over your lips on his.

Your huffed breaths are intermingled with how close you both are to each other, Gojo hovering over you, speaking into your mouth, “Have you made a decision yet?”

You’re having trouble thinking still, especially with how his lips brush ever so slightly against yours, “I…uhmm…”

When he realises how dazed you are, two things happen. One; his ego grows about ten times bigger and two; he pulls back from you, still close enough that if you tugged on him, you could kiss him again but enough to hopefully give you room to think.

“Come on, don’t keep a guy waiting,” he’s taunting you lightly, taking joy in how hazy your eyes are as you look up at him.

“Okay,” you nod.

“Hmm? Okay what?”

Taking another moment to clear your brain fog, you answer again, “Okay, I will seriously try dating you.”

“Can’t date anyone else while you do,” he conditions.

“Okay,” agreeing easily.

He adds, “Have to seriously think about me being your boyfriend.”

Again, agreeing, “Okay.”

“Have to keep kissing me right now,” smile growing on his features.

“Ok–” frowning at him when you realise, “–Hey.”

“You don’t want to?” His hand tilts your head up by your chin, looking down into your eyes, “Because you look like you want to.”

Pouting at him, “Don’t be cruel.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” his smile evil as he continues to look down at you.

Leveling him with an even stare, you state, “I don’t sleep with guys on the first date.”

“Got a dirty mind, huh? All I asked for was a kiss.”

You glare at him and then try to avoid his gaze, voice smaller than before, “You don’t kiss like that’s all you want.”

His smile is crooked as he asks, “And how do I kiss?”

Feeling your skin flare at his taunting question, at how he leans in again, his mouth right over yours, “Dizzyingly.”

He breathes out an amused laugh before he’s slotting his mouth back over yours, how you described his kiss is accurate. He kisses you in such a way that you can’t think straight even if you really want to, which is why it’s probably a bad idea to keep letting him kiss you if you don’t want to sleep with him before you even get a first date.

Abruptly parting your mouth from his, gasping out, “Wait,” taking a second to catch your breath. Gojo groans softly at the loss of your lips, his forehead resting on yours waiting for you to speak.

“What’s wrong?” He asks when you don’t continue.

“You need to stop kissing me.”

“Oh?” He hums at you in thought, his lips now trailing down the side of your face, only to rest right by your ear, “And why’s that?”

His voice has goose bumps raising on your skin, “If you keep kissing me like that…” your volume gets quieter as you mumble out, “…I’ll wanna have sex with you.”

He has the fucking audacity to laugh at you, “That worked up by a few kisses, huh?” Taunting you like he isn’t the hardest he’s ever been, cock twitching at your confession.

“Shuddup.”

His words are dripping with delight, “At least we know you’re sexually attracted to me.”

He licks lightly at your ear, and you feel like you almost jump out of your skin, gasping at it. Hands reaching out to push back on his chest, “You’re a mean man, Gojo.”

“At this point…” He looks you over, unmoved by your hands, “…I think it would be meaner to deprive yourself.”

“We are not sleeping together for the first time on my couch before we even go on a date,” you’re trying to stay steadfast but he’s making it hard when he keeps looking at you like that.

“So… you’re saying I should take you to the bedroom?” When you look at him in exasperation, he smiles softly, “I’m just kidding, we won’t do anything you don’t want to, but I will point out – for the last time – that you look an awful lot like you want to.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to… I just feel like if you’re gonna make me seriously consider you then I should date you properly too,” you avoid his gaze, feeling unusually sincere.

Abruptly, he states, “It wouldn’t be our first date though.”

“What?”

He’s a little distant when he answers, having trouble concentrating on the conversation when you’re pouting your lips at him like you are, “I count a couple weeks ago as our first date.”

“When I was stood up?” You scoff, “That does not count.”

“Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t even planned.”

“No but we ate dinner together and you were dressed awful cute, I count it as a date,” smirk present on his face as he continues to hover over you.

Ignoring his compliment, you continue to try and reason, “We were still just friends then though.”

“So, we aren’t ‘just friends’ now?” He’s being a smart ass, he knows what you mean but he’s not going to let up on this, taking it as a small victory in making you think of him as more than just a friend.

You return earnestly, “I don’t wanna count it.”

“Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t meant to be you on that date…” before he can get hurt over those words, you clarify, “…don’t get me wrong, I had fun and I’m glad you showed up, but it wasn’t planned to be you… when we go on our first date… I want it to be meant for you.” You’re unsure if you verbalised yourself in a way that makes sense, feeling much more nervous all of a sudden.

He’s looking at you so intently and you’re worried you’ve upset him somehow, “I know you said I need to stop kissing you, but that’s what I want more than anything right now.” He leans in closer, pausing just shy of your lips.

His words make your heart stutter, throwing caution to the wind as you close the distance between the two of you again, kissing him fully. Letting his mouth consume your ability to think critically, all too happy to fall into him.

Your control of the situation is slipping more and more away from you and so is the ability to care, not minding at all how you’re becoming more and more okay with how hot your body is starting to feel.

Hands reaching up and fisting the material of his shirt, pulling him down into you, his hips colliding with yours. Almost entirely instinctually – and somewhat purposefully – your legs wrap around his lower half. One of his hands reaches for your thigh, gripping the fattest part of it harshly.

You both moan into the kiss and he parts his mouth from yours, voice straining when he speaks, “Sweetheart, if you really don’t want to do anything more than this then you need to tell me to get off you right now.”

Looking at him through your lashes, you play coy, “But I like having you on top of me.”

A shiver runs down his spine, “You’re evil,” he grunts, fighting the urge to grind down into you.

He’s been pining after you for years and it feels like torture to be this close to you, pelvis pressed up against yours, having you so pliant and needy under him. He can feel his sanity slipping from him the longer you stay like this, and your words make it harder for him to pull away.

“Satoru–” when you say his name his hips jut into yours, making you gasp against him.

He hisses an apology through his teeth, “Sorry – fuck – sorry, what’s up?”

Deciding to be forward, “Take me to my room?”

Trying to hide the excitement from his face, he checks with you, “You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you give a small nod, feeling shy.

You really do want to though, more than anything. Only initially so hesitant because this doesn’t feel like the right way to do things but then again, your whole relationship with Gojo is a little less than conventional at times.

When he determines that you’re sure of yourself, he’s off you in the blink of an eye. Quick in his movements as he pulls you up along with him. Before you can even really register that you’re off the couch, you’re thrown over his shoulder as he walks hurriedly to your room.

“Someone’s eager,” you laugh at how ridiculous he’s being.

The chuckle he returns is humourless, “You have no fucking idea.”

You’re dropped down onto your bed unceremoniously, bouncing slightly at the force of it. Your arms reach out behind you to support yourself, palms splayed against your bedspread. Gojo is already tugging his shirt off and over his head, thrown and lost to some corner of your room.

“Gojo, breathe.”

“Don’t need to breathe,” he smiles large at you, “Do need your pants off though.”

Listening to him, you shimmy your pants down your legs, mumbling to him about how bossy he is.

“You know… I’m hearing a lot of complaining but I am also seeing a whole lot of direction following,” he teases.

You grumble at him, “If you’re going to be like this the whole time then I’m changing my mind.

“Don’t lie to yourself, sweetheart. You’re not fooling anyone, especially not with how you’re rubbing your thighs together.” His large hands grip your thighs, “Feeling horny?”

You don’t really want to answer him honestly but denying it feels like a trap, like he’d do something to prove you wrong and the last thing you want is for him to torture you. You’re already so pitifully slick from kissing him.

Fighting with your embarrassment, you give him your best pleading face, “Mhm, really horny.”

The smugness drops from his face, hands suddenly tugging you down the bed as he drops to his knees. Mouth leaving kisses from your knees to your inner thighs, your breath catching in your lungs. Not expecting him to be so forward, though you don’t know what you were expecting if not that.

“Gojo, you don’t have to–”

“I want to,” his eyes flick to yours, “Plus, if you wanna take me, you’re gonna need the prep,” smile growing at how your eyes grow wider.

Disbelief clear in your expression, accusing, “You’re full of it.”

He’s not worried about your scepticism, “You’ll find out for yourself in a bit.” He shrugs easily, “Now, can I put my tongue on your pretty pussy, or do you have more to say?”

He asks but his attention is already completely on your covered cunt, a single finger moving under the elastic of the waist band just to snap it back against you. A small noise of shock leaving you, “Ah! Do what you want…”

Oh, he looks so excited by your words, “You mean it?”

You’ll be honest and admit you weren’t really paying attention to what you were saying, brain hazy with how close he is to your core, skin pricking at how you can feel his hot breath against you. Feeling so unusually exposed and sensitive and you can’t tell if you’re that worked up or if he just has that effect on you.

“Mhm,” you’re nodding your head at him, giving him a green light, for what, you’re not entirely sure, all you know is that you want him to do something – anything.

“These are some really cute panties…kinda bothers me,” he’s still playing with the edges of them, annoyed when remembering you were with another guy tonight. Were you going to sleep with him tonight?

Pulling yourself up onto your elbows, you question, “What?”

Eyes flicking towards yours, “I’m a bit of a jealous guy.”

“I know this,” he always has been quick to get worked up over things regarding you, though it makes a little more sense after learning he’s liked you for so long.

He smiles at you, but his eyes are humourless, “Of course you do,” he fists at the material of your panties, “But the idea of another guy getting so close to seeing you in these… has me feeling really annoyed.”

The sound of fabric tearing fills your ears, he’s just ripped your panties off you completely. There is no salvaging them, completely useless as he throws them over his shoulder.

“Hey! those were my good pair!” They were one of the nicer pairs you own.

“Who cares about that?” His tone is dismissive, hands spreading your legs obscenely, eyes greedily looking at your uncovered pussy, “Your cunt is much cuter.”

God, you feel like you might pass out, face suddenly extremely hot, “Don’t be crude.”

“Hmm? …but I think you like it though…” his thumb swipes through your folds and you gasp at him, “Got so much wetter when I said it.”

He’s quick to begin rubbing circles into your clit, thumb giving even pressure. The stimulation has your arms shaking, threatening to give out from under you. Biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning, feeling embarrassed at how intently he’s shamelessly staring at your cunt.

Continuing to speculate, he says, “That or you like being praised…” he smirks evilly, “You like being praised, sweetheart? Being told how good you’re being for me?”

Your heart leaps in your chest, brows upturning, trying to hide your outward reaction to his words, “Hah– No…”

“Such a bad liar,” eyeing your face, “Wearing a really great expression right now though.”

Fighting the urge to grind down, you deny, “Not lying.”

He ignores you, “Could be both though,” he’s continuing to ponder on what you react most to, “Which is it, sweetheart? You like how crude I am, or do you like the praise?”

You don’t plan on answering him, eyes closing harshly against his intense gaze, feeling way too exposed. His touch leaves you and you open your eyes in alarm, trying to see what he’s doing. You see his smile before he’s leaning in and licking up the length of your pussy, eyes locked on yours the whole time.

Surprised moans slip from you, arms almost giving out completely, head rolling back. His arms wrap around your legs to hold you steady, face pushing closer into you, tongue flicking at your clit before pressing into your pussy hole.

He’s relishing in your sounds, in how wet you are, how you taste and smell, almost forgetting why he did this in the first place. Pulling away from you with a lewd smack of his lips, smiling big at the whine you let out from the loss of him.

Huffing slightly as he says, “Asked a question, not licking your pussy again until you answer it.”

“I don’t know,” your head lolls forward, eyes wet.

Head moving to the side to nip lightly at your thigh, “Shall we find out then?”

You jolt at the sensation, face twisting in confusion at him.

“You don’t gotta do anything, sweetie, just stay like this,” his hands push back on your thighs though, opening you up to him even more. “Been doing so good for me, sound so pretty,” he coos at you.

Brows furrowing at his words, heart skipping beats at his sudden praise, feeling fuzzy all over.

He hums in thought, “So fucking wet for me, dripping everywhere, creamy fucking pussy.”

You twitch at the switch, wanting to crawl away from him.

“I think I’ve just realised something,” he glances up at you, “Got such nice reactions to both things I said, do you know how much wetter you got, cunt twitching and drooling for me.”

You try pulling from him, but his hold is firm, “Gojo!” You warn.

He might be enjoying this too much but learning about what gets you going is way too enticing, especially when he doesn’t have to do much to have you looking so pathetic. “Trying to run away from me,” he tsks, “But you’re fucking dripping, so reactive, so sweet.” His eyes are glazing over, working himself up.

“‘Toru!” You call for him again, you feel like you’re on fire, beyond embarrassed.

He groans at the nickname, not hearing it from you in so long, you used to always call him that. He liked it a little too much, cock leaking for you. He feels as wrecked as he looks when he looks up at you, “I think you like both,” is his conclusion.

Reaching up, he grabs at your hand and pulls it down to your cunt, his fingers guiding your own through your slick. You gasp at it, not expecting for yourself to be so soaked. Biting at your lower lip when he moves your fingers over your clit, teasing you.

Dazed when he asks, “Ever been this wet, pretty?”

You shake your head, “No… I didn’t know I…”

Fingers moving yours to your entrance, “Poor thing, didn’t know how slutty her pussy was.” Feeling the way your cunt clenches at his words, his face bright with it, “Fucking great though, in love with it,” and again, your brows raising in realisation, “Yeah… you know now, don’t you?”

“You’re making me feel embarrassed,” you pout, head dizzy.

“No, I’m making you feel so fucking horny, not my fault that you like being embarrassed and praised at the same time,” he pulls your fingers away from your core, moving them to his mouth, sucking them clean.

You remove your fingers from him, coming to rest back in the bed, feeling breathless as you look down at him. “What do you want from me?”

“Want you to admit it, want you tell me how much you like when I talk to you,” his hand tickles up the skin of your inner thigh.

“…Like it,” you mumble out.

Humming in thought, “Hmm, not good enough, don’t think I believe you.”

Repeating, louder, “I like it.”

Tilting his head at you, “You like what?”

“I like when you talk to me,” you say with more force, brows furrowed.

He pretends to be unsure of your answer, “Are you sure?”

“Yes!” You try again, but as his expression remains unchanging, you add, “I like when you talk to me, I like how hot and fuzzy your words make me feel, I like just the sound of your voice, makes me want to squirm. Love it even! Is that what you wanted to hear?” You huff.

“Holy fuck, yes,” if he weren’t already on his knees, he would’ve fallen to them again.

You let out a squeal at the way his mouth is already back on you, tongue pushing into your hole insistently. Fervent in his actions, clearly worked up by your words. If he were on the bed, he’d be shamelessly grinding his hips down into it, cock so fucking hard it’s aching. Pulsing so pitifully for you and if he weren’t so completely distracted by how you taste he’d throw caution to the wind and fuck into you right now.

“Gojo! Oh–” His name comes out all broken, ruined and shaky from how he laps at your cunt, drinking down all your slick.

Your elbows officially give out and you’re flopping back onto the mattress, fingers digging into the bed. Struggling to hold in all the little noises he’s pulling from you, hips trying to desperately rut into his pretty face with no luck, locked in place by his strong hold.

Gasping out at him, “M–more. Gojo – hah – more, please.”

Grunting against you, vibrations running up your spine, wanting desperately to kick your legs against the stimulation but unable to. He’s worked you up so much, so fucking desperate for release that his touch is making you crazy.

A finger presses at your hole, slipping inside easily, both his finger and tongue fucking into you. Another finger added, opening you up, scissoring them, tongue sneaking deeper inside your cunt.

He feels drunk, head heavy and brain foggy, tongue fucking you deeply. Delighting in the sounds of your sloppy pussy trying to suck him in deeper, he’s losing his mind. Tongue leaving you only for him to spit onto your cunt, thumb rubbing it into your clit, third finger added to the first two. Determined to have you ready for his cock.

“Need you to cum,” he sounds wrecked even to himself, “Before I do in my own pants – ffffuck –” Can’t help the way he curses at how you tighten around him at his words, “Must’ve been telling the truth about liking my voice, huh?” He teases, laughing breathlessly at how you react to him again.

Pressing out a simple, “S–so mean,” in response.

“You fucking like it,” eyes watching how your back arches off the mattress, “Love it even,” he reminds.

A series of moans leave you unabashedly at how he crooks his fingers just right, consistently hitting the one spot, thighs twitching at it. Stomach pulling tight and toes curling, head moving from side to side, so fucking close now.

“That’s it, sweetie,” he encourages, “Doing so good, just let go for me.”

You’re cumming suddenly, the abruptness of it shocking, like your body skipped the rest of the build up at Gojo’s words. If it didn’t feel good how he was fucking you through it, how his thumb kept rubbing at your clit, you’d feel beyond embarrassed at how you came just because he asked you to.

It’s not lost on him how quick you were to finish after he spoke, his ego big before and now fucking massive. Absolutely thrilled by how you continue to prove your responsiveness to him, if he were ever worried about you not being attracted to him, he can’t possibly remember why. Not when you’re squirming under him, tears threatening to slip from your waterline.

“Such a good direction follower,” he mocks, repeating his earlier sentiments.

His fingers keep stroking at you until your body goes limp, only jerking every now and again with your come down. Pulling them from you and parting them, looking at the way your cum connects his fingers together with white strings.

“Look at that,” his voice dripping with glee, “I was right… got such a creamy pussy,” he hums, shoving his fingers into his mouth.

He wipes his spit covered fingers on your thighs before standing, tugging off his pants and boxers before crawling up the mattress, leaning over you. Fingers skimming at your sides, pulling your shirt along with it, “Can I take this off, pretty?”

Eyes bleary when they meet his, giving a small nod, “Mhm.”

“You okay to keep going?” He checks, leaning in closer to you.

His concern makes you unreasonably happy, feeling genuinely cared for, “Yeah.”

“You sure–”

Cutting him off, “–Yes.”

Shock present on his face before smiling endearingly at you, completely smitten with you and has been for a long time now. It all feels a little surreal to him, being able to hold you, be intimate with you. Leaning in more, pressing soft kisses all over your face.

Showering you in affection as his hands continue to pull your shirt up. Only parting to pull it from you fully, thrown to some corner of your room, joining the rest of your clothes. Shuffling back so he can look at all of you, hands delicately tracing over you, like he’s memorising how you feel under his palms.

“You’re so soft,” he mumbles, hands smoothing over you. He drops onto you, face pressing between your tits, breathing in your scent.

Confused as your voice calls for him gently, “‘Toru?”

“Fuck,” he nips at your skin first and then moves to get back on his knees, “Alright, spread those pretty legs for me, sweetheart.”

Feeling placid from the intensity of your orgasm, you immediately listen to him and open your legs, moving them to the outside of his. Gojo feels like his heart grows in size at how quick you are to listen to him, so docile you don’t even talk back to him.

Your head cocks to the side at him, confused by his stare, “What?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head at you, “You’re just really cute.”

He grabs your face, sandwiching your cheeks between his fingers, his lips leaving behind a big and sloppy kiss on yours before focusing back on your cunt. Grasping his cock and groaning at the pressure, squeezing himself to alleviate some of the need crawling desperately up his spine.

You can’t help but stare, he wasn’t full of it, he really is that big. Long and thick and looking so painfully hard, dripping precum so messily down the length of himself, dribbling down onto the bed sheets.

“It’s rude to stare,” he hisses, hand now stroking himself, clearly not even a little bit put off by your shameless staring. If anything, completely aroused by it.

Looking up into his eyes as you apologise, “‘M sorry.”

“Hah,” he huffs in amusement, “So polite all of a sudden, orgasm that good, pretty?”

“Yeah,” you nod, staring at him straight on, aiming to work him up more.

It works, “Fuck– alright,” his hips stutter into his hand and he stops fisting his cock, “‘Bout to give you an even better one,” guiding his dick to your core.

Swiping the head of himself through your folds, letting it collect the slick leaking from you. Teasing you like this for a bit, moving himself up and down before dipping into your hole, only to pull away again.

You whine at him over it, “Please.”

Smile large as he coos, “Don’t worry, pretty. I’ll take care of you.”

Keeping his word, he slowly presses the tip of his dick into you, hissing at the stretch, worried he didn’t give you enough prep. You bite your lip as you begin to take him in, fisting the sheets below, looking up at Gojo. His brows are upturned, and his jaw clenched, focusing so hard on being slow and careful. He pauses when you clench and flinch around him.

“I can take it,” gaze determined as you try to assure him, “You can keep going.”

“Oh, sweetie,” his hand grips at your inner thigh, squishing it under his hold, “I appreciate that,” he smiles, “I do… but you’re gonna want to pace yourself.”

You pout up at him, sulking, wanting to be full and not appreciating his probably – definitely – sound advice.

“Hah, don’t pout,” his thumb moves to your clit, “You’ll take it, know you will,” rubbing circles into it, “Cause I’m gonna make sure of it, but you gotta pace yourself.”

Under his touch, you relax again, and he pushes his hips forward, starting the slow process of opening you up on his cock. His control astounding himself right now, wanting nothing more than to fuck into you completely, feeling your pussy swallow him whole.

He’s not quite half-way yet and already pressing up against the most delicious spots inside you, with that and his consistent pressure on your clit, you’re suddenly so fucking close to cumming like this.

Reaching out to him, your hand lightly slaps at him, trying to warn, “I’m gonna – hah –”

Gojo realises when you clench down on him what you’re trying to say, the small noises you make getting louder, he almost blows his load the second he realises. Ripping himself from you suddenly, you cry out at the loss, cumming around nothing, gasping into your hand.

“Why? Why?” you’re almost incoherent as you ask him.

“I’m so fucking sorry, sweetheart,” he keeps his thumb on your clit, trying to make up for the loss of his cock, “Would’ve cum if I hadn’t pulled out, wanna at least fuck you before I do.”

You glare at him, trying to convey how slighted you feel but he only seems to find it endearing, smiling at you over it. “I’ll make it up to you, don’t worry.”

Wasting no time, he fucks back into you, to where he was before he pulled out. Giving shallow thrusts as he keeps pressing forwards, breath stuttering at the small way he’s getting the friction he’s desperate for.

“Such a greedy cunt,” he murmurs, dick slipping deeper, “So quick to cum for me, sucking me in.”

“Gojo–” you whine at him, his words back to embarrassing you.

His voice cracks at how you refer to him, “–No, no, nono, what happened to ‘Toru?” Fucking deeper, so close to being balls deep.

“‘Toru, you’re–” cutting yourself off with a moan, he thrust the rest of the way in when you called to him, “–so deep.”

“Don’t I fucking know it,” he chuckles breathlessly, moving to press his body up against yours, craving the contact.

He’s pressed up against you completely, warm and strong, your legs loop around his waist and he slips in deeper. He groans at it, holding himself back, wanting you to adjust to all of him first. He nuzzles into your neck, leaving kisses and love bites against the sensitive skin there, relishing in the way your pussy jumps around him over such a small act.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you liked me or something,” he jokes, referencing how sensitive you are to him.

Without thinking, you admit, “I have – mmph – I’ve liked you mm–multiple times ah– at different points in – hah – our lives.”

His head snaps back as he twitches inside you, “Seriously?” When you nod, he grinds down into you, “Fuck– had me so stressed, liked you all this time and you’re telling me I could’ve had this pretty, little pussy so much sooner?”

You’re feeling a bit dazed, two orgasms deep and stretched so obscenely around him, cunt making wet noises just from the small way he’s grinding into you.

“When,” his words are hurried, when you look at him like he’s just said something in a different language, he asks again, “When have you liked me?”

“I don’t remember that, too many – hnn – different times,” you shake your head, you don’t even know if you could recount all the times you had feelings for him resurface even if you weren’t split open on his big dick.

He moans, starting to move his hips in shallow thrusts, “Enough that you – mmph – can’t remember specifics,” he groans, “Feels like a sick joke, been pining after you our – hah – whole lives.”

His mouth is on yours, kissing you deeply, sucking your tongue into his mouth, licking at you. The kiss so dizzying, you’re barely able to catch up to him before he’s talking again, “The most recent time– can you – hah – remember the most recent time you liked me?”

He’s desperate to know, wanting to know how small or big of a window he had missed. Failing to realise it doesn’t really matter all that much right now.

“Not – hah – not that long ago,” you’re almost panting now, wanting for him to move with more urgency but he’s still only thrusting into you shallowly.

“When, sweetie, tell me when, please,” his forehead pressed to yours, eyes imploring.

Struggling slightly as you press out, “B– before I started – hah – going on all those dates,” you’re trying really hard to think, “Beginning of the – hng – year?”

Smiling at you, big, happy, “Not that long ago, just gonna make you like me again.”

He’s a little annoyed that you went on so many dates right after having liked him, not completely lost on him that the two are probably connected and feeling frustrated that he hadn’t just told you about his feelings ages ago.

“Gonna charm the fuck outta you, take you to nice places, shower you in compliments, tell you how cute you are,” he’s rambling now, about your theoretical future dates, “Remind you every day how much I like you, how perfect you are, gonna make you like me again.”

“I’d like it if you moved, ‘Toru, please,” you beg, tears in the corners of your eyes from being teased.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he quips, kissing your cheek before complying.

Finally starting a pace that has you going crazy but in a different way, fast and deep, weighted thrusts that make you struggle to maintain focus. Pulling out almost completely before fucking back into you, hammering his hips into yours, lewd squelching filling the room at it.

Your whimpered moans have Gojo’s skin pricking, so turned on he feels insane, like you might kill him, “Got such a great pussy, fucking soaking wet, taking me so well, could die like this and not complain, fuck–”

Clawing at him now, at his forearms, his biceps, shoulders, back, anywhere you can reach, desperately scrabbling for purchase. “Gojo–”

“–No, I don’t know who that is,” he ignores your cry of his name.

Trying again, “‘Toru, want– I want–”

You’re not even entirely sure what you want or are asking for, but Gojo seems to know immediately. His hips moving faster, pelvis slapping into your clit every time he meets yours, cock hitting against your cervix in a way that hurts so fucking good.

Eyes rolling back in your skull with the pleasure, fat tears running down your face at it. Sex has never felt like this, is it meant to feel like this? Have you been doing it wrong? Or maybe he’s just insanely good at it, or maybe you just like him more than you were aware of.

“Feels– feels good, I–”

“Again? Fucking perfect, so perfect for me,” he sounds so excited, “Want it, want you to cum on me, cum all over my cock, fucking coat me in it.” It’s almost like he’s begging you for it.

Luckily for him, you really do like his voice, love how he talks to you and at his borderline begging, you’re cumming all over him. Cunt clenching down on him, sobbing out pitiful moans of his name as you cum. It’s coating him, just like how he asked for, creamy white ring at the base of his cock.

“Fuuck, that’s it, such a good girl,” your cunt jumps around his cock, and he laughs, “Oh? You liked that, should’ve called you a good girl sooner.”

Too dazed to fight him on his teasing, corners of your vision blurry and ears ringing, twitching pathetically under him. He doesn’t stop his thrusts, fucking into you harsher, more shallow, getting close to finishing himself.

Orgasm on the tip of his tongue, the thing that sends him over the edge is how you look up at him. Eyes fucked out and cheeks tear stained, whining out a small, “‘Toru, want it, please.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” his words are choked out, almost whining himself, balls heavy with how badly he wants to cum.

Thrusts faltering as he fucks into you the last few times, suddenly slamming his pelvis to yours, releasing all his cum inside you, painting your walls a pretty shade of white. Hips grinding into you as he finishes.

Fucked out whimpers of your name leaving him as he presses his head into the side of your neck. Biting down onto you, shocking you slightly, the pain unexpected, he lathes over it with his tongue.

He slumps down onto you, his weight too much, your hands push at him, “Too heavy.”

He hums out at you noncommittally but gets up, carefully slipping himself from you, not shy in how he stares at your pussy. At the way his cum gushes from it, the urge to fuck it all back inside you strong. He withholds though, seeing you’re clearly beyond fucked out. Next time, he promises himself.

Gone from you but not for too long, only leaving long enough to clean himself up and bring stuff back to clean you up. Wiping softly at your legs, cleaning you of his spend, “You look cute dripping with my cum,” he singsongs.

“Lewd,” you accuse, too tired to think of something more to say.

“Yeah…” he gets into bed by you, “But I’m certain you like that.”

You snuggle into his side, letting him cuddle you, “Not sleeping with you again until at least the third date.”

“I bet…” he looks down at you, lips hovering over yours, “…You’ll sleep with me after each of them.”

You go to scoff at him and deny it, but he kisses you, deep and imploring. Effectively shutting you up and as you let him kiss you how he likes, you realise, he might be right.

𝐀/𝐍: this got away from me, like it so often does, it was only meant to be a couple k of only smut but i am not normal so it turned into this! i hope you enjoyed <3 thank you for reading!

[⚠︎] — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision

[soobnny]

my girl — jeongin x f!reader ; the boys find out their youngest has a gf

(1.3k words)

It’s a once in a while thing for the boys to be able to eat out together.

Challenges usually pose through schedule conflicts, one or the other being absent, and timing. They can never truly catch a break. So, when the first sign of a temporary alignment showed, they took the opportunity in a flash.

It was going to be their first dinner together in months, one of their off days.

Usually, the next challenge of indecisiveness would present itself. However, their youngest is quick to suggest a place.

Apparently, they had really good jjajangmyun.

(The boys didn’t know then, but it was because the faster they could decide where to eat, the faster he could go visit you.)

(They also didn’t know then that jjajangmyun was your favorite.)

A chorus of laughter echoes through the little corner store as they’re served their third plate of food. Jeongin didn’t lie about their food, and it was a safe enough space for them to celebrate the end of their latest comeback season.

“Seungmin, you’re getting really brave with your jokes about PD-nim.”

“I ran that contract renewal like the military.”

They spend the night joking, revisiting their past, and being hopeful for the future. A few grateful messages are exchanged after liquid courage is brought to their table. And while a simple night, the boys knew they’d remember this day for the rest of their lives.

There’s quiet pop music playing in the back—the kind you’d hear in the early 2000s. And Han Jisung orders another plate of jjajangmyun.

“Ayen, the food here is crazy good. How’d you find this place?”

Jeongin snaps out of his mental chant at the call of his name, fox-eyes trained on the older boy before the question reverberates in his mind. “My girlfriend recommended it.”

A pin drops.

Their youngest has a habit of lying, taken after his roommate, Seungmin. He usually does it with sneaky smiles and a few giggles. However, both signs indicative of lying are absent, and the boy has the audacity to refill his plate and keep eating as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on his members.

“Girlfriend?” Hyunjin is the first to speak, asking the boy to reiterate what he had just said, even though he heard. Loud and clear, in fact.

“Uhuh.” Jeongin replies through a mouthful of food. “What?”

He looks curiously around the table. His friends’ eyes are glazed, and he’d expected the conversation to be over three minutes ago, but it doesn’t.

Jeongin is in the middle of another bite when all hell breaks loose.

“Girlfriend?!” It’s said even louder now, more amplified, and Hwang Hyunjin stands from where he was previously seated in pure disbelief. All the while, their eldest is having an existential crisis. “Innie, what do you mean?”

He perks his head up, pursing his lips slightly and tilting his head. “What’s the big deal?”

“You have a girlfriend and you didn’t tell us?” It’s Han’s turn to be perplexed, and it’s humorous the way his features mimic the dramatic shock on Hyunjin’s.

Seungmin simply keeps eating.

“Yah, Kim Seungmin. Why aren’t you as surprised as us?”

“I already knew.”

“Seungmin knew, but not us?!”

“Not my fault he trusts me with dating advice.”

That boy definitely knows how to add fuel to fire. Chaos erupts as the younger half harass Seungmin for knowing before them.

“How long have you been dating?,” Minho asks.

“Just around 3 months now.”

If Chan was out of it then, you wouldn’t know how to describe his state now. Felix sits next to him to comfort the poor boy.

“My baby has been dating for 3 months, and I didn’t know anything.”

“Sorry.” Jeongin responds bashfully, scratching the back of his head. He knew his hyungs would act this way, which had led to his decision of keeping it hidden for a while. He thinks he should’ve just told them right away.

Though, he thought they’d known by now. He wasn’t exactly the most secretive about it, and he was sure he’d mentioned you before.

And although shocking to suddenly hear that their youngest (and their baby) had a girlfriend, they will not have his head for it. They know he’s responsible enough to know what not to do, and it was a little touching to know the boy had enough time to fit romance in his life.

“Show us what she looks like!”

The boys get a selfie of you that’s set as his lockscreen, and it’s enough proof to have the boys cooing at how adorable you two would be together.

“Motherfucker, she’s really pretty.” Changbin comments.

“I know.”

Meanwhile, Han and Hyunjin are making up fake scenarios in the corner, scrolling through photos and videos. Then a message.

While their youngest is distracted, Han quickly taps on the notification.

(8:23pm) innie: I miss u

(8:30pm) ynie: miss u too!!!!

(8:31pm) innie: Wish you were here right now

(8:32pm) ynie: aren’t u celebrating with ur friends rnnn

(8:32pm) ynie: stop texting me and enjoy !!!

(8:33pm) innie: But i miss u

(8:33pm) innie: Call me later?

(8:36pm) ynie: after you spend time with ur friends let’s call

(8:37pm) innie: Wanna call now. Just for a second

(8:37pm) innie: Haven’t heard your voice in a while

(8:37pm) ynie: ok fine >:( give me like 10-15 mins

(8:51pm) ynie: i’ll call now

“Oh my god, she’s calling.”

That’s definitely enough to get Jeongin’s attention.

“Give me my phone back.” He reaches out to them, but Hyunjin is fast enough to swipe it.

“Answer it!” Changbin instigates.

Jeongin’s eyes widen in horror when he hears your voice go through his phone. “Innie? Oh—hello.”

You sound so shy, and Chan feels like he’s about to cry. “She calls him Innie.”

The youngest finally snatches his phone back when all Hyunjin could do was stare at you through the screen of his phone. You were real. Yang Jeongin actually has a girlfriend.

“Hi.” He mumbles, moving away from their table to talk to you privately. Though, before he does, he makes sure he leaves a threat to the boys not to follow him. “‘M sorry, did they scare you, baby?”

“It’s okay, I was just surprised.”

Jeongin visibly melts at the sound of your voice. “The boys know about us now.”

“I figured.” You laugh, and the service at the restaurant doesn’t do the warmth of your laughter any justice. He can’t wait to see you later.

“Can I see you later?”

“Mkay, but just… enjoy your time with the boys, okay? You told me it’s been a while since all of you were able to relax over a meal like this.”

“Fine.” He sighs, before a smile creeps on his face. “They liked your suggestion.”

“That’s good. Now go!” There’s a pout on his lips when you shoo him away. “Go have fun, go! I’m hanging up now. Love you!”

“Love you too.”

The wide, bright smile remains on his face even when he goes back to their table.

“Who has our Ayen smiling like that?”

“My girl.”

“Innie’s getting soft.” Minho teases.

Seungmin, on the other hand, fake vomits at his response, and another chorus of laughter bursts from their seats. The night continues through conversations over Jeongin’s sudden revelation, and the promise to let the boys meet you properly next time. He agrees if they promise not to scare you away.

And while he’d kept you a secret for a while, he can’t help but feel a tinge of happiness in his heart that the most important people in his life know about you now, are even eager to meet you. There is no better contentment than all of the people he loves aligning with one another.

The entire night, Jeongin itches in anticipation to hold you in his arms and hear your voice in person after his schedules had torn apart his much needed quality time with you. And when he asks to leave, they don’t need to know where he’s going.

One look at his face, and the only evident answer is you.

[itaipava]

— f1 boys and the moment they go “fuck it”

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS

you’re both a little drunk, but sober enough to know what you’re doing. he loves testing your limits, so he makes a bet with you over something trivial, promising a “prize” if you win. when you win and smile victoriously, he laughs and says, “i guess i owe you something special, right?” you nod, ready to receive whatever it is. he leans in, eyes shining, and whispers, “i hope this counts,” before giving you a kiss that feels playful and intense at the same time.

˒ ⌕ GEORSE RUSSELL

you’ve always had a fun friendship, where you could joke around and have fun with each other all the time, and tonight was no different. you’ve been teasing him all night, playfully testing his limits. he’s been patient, smiling, until you say something that pushes him over the edge, “oh you want to kiss me so bad right now,” you say playfully as he wouldn’t stop looking at your lips. he looks serious for a moment and you think he doesn’t like what you said, but he just gets even closer, his voice low and intense, “you have no idea how much,” before leaning in and kissing you, finally giving in to what he’s wanted for so long.

˒ ⌕ SEBASTIAN VETTEL

you're alone in your room while music plays. you thought you were alone and he was in the living room, but he was silently watching you sway, mesmerized. he always admired you from afar and never hid it, but at that moment, something changes inside him like never before. he thought a lot before doing it, but it was only when he stopped thinking that he finally did it: he approaches, puts a hand on your waist and, without saying a word, pulls you close, holding you as if you were the only two people in the world. you were startled by his sudden attitude, but you quickly melted in his arms as he hugged you and pulled you even closer to him while your lips were danced together.

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ

you’d never argued before, but at that moment, your nerves were on edge; you were both frustrated with each other. the room fell silent as the tension shifted, and he was staring at you, breathless. you tried to look away from him, but something about him held you back; he was a mess. suddenly, he closed the distance, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that spoke of all the unspoken emotions between you, finally letting everything that had been bottled up come out.

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC

he watches you from afar as you talk and laugh with another guy, and even though he knows he has no claim, it still stirs something primal in him; he just couldn't stop staring at you, and you noticed it. later, when you're alone, you tease him about it and ask him why he couldn't stop looking at you like that. he knows you were having fun with the situation, but he wasn't. you thought it was no big deal, but for him it changed everything. "i hated seeing you with someone else," he finally admits, serious as he stares at you. you look at him for a few seconds and smile, he smiles back and takes your face, finally kissing you - and claiming you his.

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON

it’s late and you’re saying goodbye after spending the whole day together; he loves being with you, but he hates the time to say goodbye. it feels like time passes so quickly with you but so painfully slowly when you’re apart. he also knows that you hate goodbyes, so you’re lingering at the door, neither wanting to part. he takes your hand, holding it a little tighter, his thumb gently stroking your skin. “maybe… i don’t want to say goodbye yet,” he says and his eyes shine at you. he leans in, finally pressing his lips to yours as he places his hand on the back of your neck and the other on your waist.

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

it’s late and you’re both tired from the party you just attended. people have started to leave, but you’re too busy with each other to care. you’re in the garden of the huge house, sitting on the grass and admiring the stars. he looks at you laughing at something he told you, your voice soft and open, and something inside him snaps. his heart starts to beat faster as he’s mesmerized by you. he blurts out, “sorry, i can’t pretend anymore,” and pulls you closer to him, his hands shaking with anticipation and desire as he finally takes your face carefully and kisses you, completely melting into the taste of you.

˒ ⌕ LIAM LAWSON

he loves listening to you and always listens attentively. but lately he hasn't been able to hold himself back: whenever you start talking, he has to look away or think about something else, because he's on the verge of finally giving in to you. you have a surprising effect on him that he's never felt before, and today was no different: while you're talking, he suddenly goes quiet, his eyes fixed on yours with an intense gaze. "sorry," he murmurs, "i know you're saying something important, but i just… i can't concentrate when you're so close." he's also surprised by what he just said, but he doesn't wait for an answer, pulling you into that kiss he's been holding back for so, so long.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN

you’re both running to take cover from an unexpected downpour, and you’re both soaking wet, laughing and out of breath. he looks at you, hair drenched and eyes shining as you laugh, and realizes he can’t contain himself anymore. you’re the most beautiful and charming person he’s ever met in his life, and he can’t hide it anymore. he’s afraid of losing you; of losing the opportunity to finally be with you. so, without saying a word, he gently caresses your cheek and smiles with you before pulling you into a passionate kiss, with the rain running down both of you. in that moment, he felt like he was floating. in that moment, nothing else mattered, it was just you and him in the world.

[maxivstappen]

౨ৎ WHAT A COINCIDENCE ! ‧₊˚.

౨ৎ part of my short n’ sweet series (not posted yet) ౨ৎ

smau — angst & sweet revenge

pairing — charles leclerc x reader / lando norris x reader ( fc: sabrina carpenter )

summary — charles has a habit of running back to you whenever things don’t work out between him and alex, but how long will you be willing to keep up with his shit?

warnings / disclaimer — none, just some swearing!

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23rd August 2023 - TWITTER

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31st August 2023 - TEXTS and TWITTER

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4th Feburary 2024 - TEXTS

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5th Feburary 2024 - TWITTER and TEXTS

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6th February 2024 - @.yourusername ✓ just posted on INSTA!

liked by landonorris, sadiesink_ and 2,965,201 others

yourusername the only thing that surprised me yesterday was, in fact, the cake ✨ wouldn’t have wanted to spend it any other way — thank you for all your birthday wishes <3

view all 87,082 comments

landonorris ✓ pretty girl

-> ♥️ by @.yourusername ✓

carlossainz55 ✓ @.landonorris omg🥹 you’re growing up lando

user3 @.carlossainz55 NOT HIM SIDING WITH LANDO THIS IS SO MESSY

user1 i cannot handle everything that’s happened yesterday and today

user2 @.user1 what’s going on?

user3 @.user2 charles and his ex got together again right on y/n‘s birthday and she’s very obviously throwing shade in her caption (saying she’s not surprised because alex and charles are always on&off) + lando just called her pretty girl???

user2 @.user3 omg queen, lando should make a move

milliebobbybrown ✓ happy birthday bb

-> ♥️ by @.yourusername ✓

user4 @.milliebobbybrown eleven what are you doing here

user7 ICONIC ICON

user5 oscar and lily were there, carlos, lando, george and max were there, where the hell was charles??? he didn’t even like the post

user6 @.user5 he’s with alex again :(

user5 @.user6 WHAT

user6 @.user5 yes even worse, he left the morning of her bday to fly out to alex

user7 @.user6 nobody confirmed it stop talking shit

user8 @.user7 charles was seen at an airport just that morning + it wouldn’t be out of character for him, he’s always been like this + he wasn’t at her bday party but they were still seen together one day before + half of the grid was there but he wasn’t

user8 the caption is so ironic 😭😭

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23rd August 2024 - @.landonorris ✓ just posted a story on INSTA! (playing: coincidence by y/n l/n)

@.yourusername replied : i love you more lan🥹

@.danielricciardo replied : i thought your obsession would stop now that you’re together but these past months have all proven me very wrong😔

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TWITTER

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@.yourusername ✓ just posted on INSTA!

liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe and 5,669,069 others

yourusername what a coincidence! I’ve got a few surprises for you! first of all, my new single “coincidence” is out now! second, music video for said song is coming tomorrow ANNNNNNDDDD surprise surprise surprise!!! MY NEW ALBUM “Short n’ Sweet” COMING OUT NOVEMBER 13TH <333

view all 128,696 comments

user1 ALBUM OF THE YEAR ALBUM OF THE YEAR ALBUM OF THE YEAR

user2 i want her so bad

user3 @.user2 same

user4 IS THAT LANDO’S HEAD ON THE FOURTH SLIDE

user5 @.user4 IT IS

user6 @.user4 HE’LL BE IN HER MV I THINK

user7 @.user6 OH MY GOD

user8 i want both her and lando

user9 lmao charles in the likes👀👀

user10 probably wants her back

landonorris ✓ 🤭🤭

-> ♥️ by @.yourusername ✓

user11 @.landonorris @.charles_leclerc omg look charles!😧 it’s not that hard to interact with and post your girlfriend !!!

user12 @.landonorris PLEASE GET MARRIED HAVE KIDS PLEASE

user13 im gonna stream this til my neighbours know the lyrics by heart

oscarpiastri ✓ lando won’t shut up about you

carlossainz55 ✓ @.oscarpiastri he never will

user14 i love how they’re all friends with y/n🥹🥹

user15 oscar and carlos interaction in y/n’s comment section might be my favourite thing ever

user16 please more charles hate songs 👍

mclaren ✓ streaming rn as we speak

user17 THE ALBUM’S COMING OUT ON LANDO’S BIRTHDAY🥹🥹🥹

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general taglist :: @norrisdriver

first smau ever !! probs not the best but i hope you like it anyway :)