#and he's like 'girls! girls!' and their mom is like giggling and shaking her head fondly in the background

[bumblingbabooshka]

I hate that Neelix gets a son in the end 🙄 he was born to be the father of no less than three very loud girls.

[strawberrymochin]

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ☀︎

Rockstar!gojo x art student!femreader

synopsis- satoru gojo fell in love with you when he was 17. He tried everything to gain your attention—joining the student council, participating in every extracurriculars, performing well in academics yet nothing worked. That was until high school. In college, having been forced into a band, he needed to find a new artist for their posters which he requested shoko to take care of. What he didn't expect was shoko to bring you as a volunteer—

warnings- college!au, satoru being heads over heels for you, he’s so damn in LOVE save my boy, friends to lovers, misunderstanding, SEMI PUBLIC SMUT, fingering, oral fem receiving, PUSSY DRUNK GOJO, dirty talk, creampie, BALL OF FLUFF, ANGST, mentions of smoking and alcoholism, super cute ending

w.c- 8.2k (have faith)

a/n's note- i'd poured out my heart in this (especially the smut). i hope you all do like this. your comments and reblogs are highly appreciated as it helps motivating me for writing long ass fics. taglist is open you can ask me to join. love ya' all!!

When satoru met you for the first time, he was 11 years old. 

You were the daughter of his mother’s friend whom he heard of so many times. Though the accidental reunion in the mall while grocery shopping was the first time satoru ever had the opportunity to meet you face to face. 

It was a totally random encounter, coincidental even, you can say when your mother recognised satoru’s mom and both squealed like teenagers. They'd a lot to catch up with, thus having their kids entertain each other in the play section was convincing enough for them to chit chat in a cafe.

And this is how satoru ended up being stuffed, hand in hand with you, to go enjoy in the play section as his mother patted his back, asking him to be good to you. 

“Don't leave her hand, okay toru?! Make sure you both stay together.” His mom said before scooting herself with your mom. 

Satoru looked at you, his hand locked in yours as you made eye contact with him before shying away, looking in the other direction. He stood confused before pulling you to the gaming section, without any word. 

He scanned amongst the box of video games, before pulling out one which caught his eyes with his unoccupied hand. He gave a side look to you, reluctantly asking “you want to play this?” 

You gaze down at the video game he held in his hands, eyes sparkling a bit, if satoru wasn't seeing things, then raise your head to look at him again. “It has vibrant colours.” 

Satoru nodded, feeling a little giddy that you liked his preference. “It's called mario kart.”

“Oh.” Your eyes widened as he revealed the name. 

“Do you know how to play it?” You shake your head at his question. “Then I can teach you!” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, let's go and install it on the playstation.” 

By the time satoru’s mother returns with your mum, they find satoru giggling along with you, hands still locked with each other, as he points to various stacked video games. 

That day slowly came to an end and satoru didn't get to see you for the next two years till your giggles became a distant echo and your face a blur. 

By the time he was 14, he almost forgot you. 

Until that one day when he noticed you, sitting alone with your lunch staring at the sky at the campus of his high school. 

You were biting on your chopsticks with dreamy eyes as recognition drew in satoru's mind. 

Y/n— he thought. His brows frowned, thoughts slowly going in a muddle. How are you here? eating lunch in his high school campus unless— you're a student over here too! Satoru felt foolish, his lips slowly curving in a smile lifting one hand, abandoning the basketball in the other to greet you. 

However, before he can get his words voiced out to you, gaining your attention, a brown haired girl comes up to you dragging you along with her in a hurry. 

Satoru's hand froze in mid air, awkwardly stretching it above his head before bringing it down and turning towards his friends. He sprinted back to his group resuming the game, yet his mind stayed with you and your dreamy eyes. 

He wanted to say ‘hi’ and watch your eyes grow wide before nodding your head just like you did back then. He wanted to show you the basketball he was holding and maybe teach you how to play ball just like he did back then. 

“Oi satoru! Why are you missing the catch?!” one of his friends shouted, breaking him free of his daze. “sorry…taking a break!” He said, excusing himself, before going and plopping himself down on a nearby bench. 

He recognised the brown haired girl—Yura. She often came to him asking for little favours. Did she know you? A friend? You studied in the same school and yet he only saw you today. Where were you all this time? Satoru was the same age as you. So you were bound to be in the same class, maybe different sections but he knew students from the other sections too. How come he didn't notice you yet?

The recess was over soon and he ran back to his class. Before entering the class, he noticed you again, hurrying to the class next to him. 

Class 1-2.

Satoru felt silly as he read the classroom name in his mind. 

As the final semester rolled on and a new semester started, satoru found out class 1-2 changed to class 2-2 and this year he was in the same section as yours. 

He was excited to finally be able to talk to you without any awkwardness. After all, you were in the same classroom now— which means you will know him when he introduces himself on the first day of class. You will see him, introducing himself aloud and clear and recognition will draw on your face as you remember him. 

That's what he initially thought the night before the first class. Until satoru felt the urge to perfect his speech and kept on practicing it, holding the crumpled sheet in his clammy hands, past midnight. 

As a result he woke up late and by the time he hurried himself to school, the self introduction was half-over. He mumbled his apologies to his homeroom teacher, before hastily introducing himself and going to his assigned seat. 

With that his perfect speech plan of gaining your attention bombed miserably. He raised his head in the direction of your seat—first row second desk, way far than his— fourth row last desk. 

That's when he decided with the determination inclining in his heart to get your attention and make you remember that it's him. 

The plan was simple. He just have to wait till recess and watch his chances closely. Once you're free and alone he will go make a move saying ‘hello’! Maybe even ask for your number. 

Recess hour came by and his plan chose to bite the dust with girls and boys swarming around him to get his number and be friends with him. The group kept him occupied for the entirety of the recess and by the time he was done you were no where to be found in class. 

Similar things happened the next day and the next day and the next day, never ceasing to leave him alone. 

Satoru eventually came up with another plan— excelling in academics. The more he's good in academics, the more are the chances for you to come up to him wanting his help to understand a problem. And the plan worked exceptionally well with girls frequenting him with a doubt in their lesson— except for you. 

This time satoru came up with his active participation in extracurriculars and sports. The more he active he is the more is the chance of you joining the same activity or maybe seek his assistance for the upcoming sports day.

This plan too, was indeed prodigious and did attracted a lot of attention except yours. 

His last option was of joining the student council. As the spirited member of the top student council, you might come up to him with a problem you're facing or anything you want to change. 

So, without thinking much he did joined the student council, hoping to finally gain your attention. However the following week, concerns and requests for changes decreased promptly. The other council members sighed, few scrutinizing satoru. After all no one in the entire school would want their so very handsome, energetic and popular Satoru Gojo to have a heavy work load after school. 

“Since we don't have any work to do now, thanks to gojo-kun, I'd gladly like you all to only maintain the regular class desk arrangement.” the student council president announced before leaving the council room. 

Satoru sighed, this isn't what he thought. He just wanted your attention not the entire school’s. Everyone looked at him, when he walked, when he sat, when he ate, people always turned around to take a second look. Yet you never laid your eyes on him. Even being in the same class you never came up to him to chat. 

Back slouched, with his tie undone, he slammed the door open of his classroom to pick up his bag. 

You flinched. 

Hand covering your mouth, a dust wiper on the other, you looked at him as he froze. 

One entire year, was how satoru spent to gain your attention, to get you look at him, and when it finally happened the time seemed to halt. The sun rays pooled into the room with slow breezes messing up your bangs and satoru couldn't mutter a word but stare.

Conscious about him gaping, he tore his gaze away from you before shutting the door, this time gently. 

The council president asked them to take care of class desk arrangements. However, the desks in his classroom have always been arranged, even before he joined the student council.

“you…um arrange the desks everyday?” He said fixing his tie, slowly walking up to his desk, wiped clean by you. “Yes.” 

Satoru accompanies you cleaning and arranging for the rest of the time in complete silence. Soon you take your leave, and so does satoru but this was the time he was happy like really really happy. 

He didn't exchange any words of recognition with you, from the day at the mall. He didn't talk. Yet he was beaming radiant, for just being with you, momentarily alone, in peace. 

That day soon came to an end and another year passed by. Satoru did nothing but admire you from afar. This was the only way he felt the closest to you. He saw how you wiped and arranged the desks everyday; help people without even letting them notice; lend the only pencil you have without a word; and care for the garden whose garish flowers were disregarded by others. 

The more he saw, the more he knew you. And the more he felt his heart slipping away. 

You were kind, gentle and soft. You noticed people behind their masks. You regarded the smallest of the things with such care. And your delicate hands, often smeared with paint, held the responsibility of others without complaining. 

He often saw yura asking favours from you, shoving her cleaning duties to you, sending you to get her lunch from the 7-eleven nearby and never once you said 'no'. You were so so precious. 

He knew he’d to stop; the way you engrossed him, linger on his mind all day to the point that he was unable to think of anything but you was straight up creepy but his eyes never stopped searching for you.

Even in the midst of the crowds on a random road his eyes would unconsciously seek for you. 

And by the time he was 17, satoru was hopelessly, absurdly and miserably in love with you.

Another year passed by and he could do nothing but stare. And the fact that you often looked at him too made things even worse. 

He was so down bad for you that he couldn't keep on going like this anymore. He was so sure he'd confess to you on the day of graduating the high school, not caring about rejection. 

Satoru stayed up an entire night, perfecting his confession. But by the time the graduation ceremony ended and he went to look out for you, you were nowhere to be found. 

He asked yura about you, to which she replied that you went back home early and satoru had his heart broken at 18. 

He couldn't move on easily but giving you up was the only option left. Unwillingly, satoru made his devastating decision of giving you up. He never thought he would see you again until a few years later in college, shoko brought you right in front of him. 

“We need a new artist to cover up for this concert.” said geto suguru, stuffing his phone back in his pockets. “Why? What happened to ren?” 

“Got himself into an accident and fractured his right arm.” Geto plops himself back down on the couch beside satoru, before pulling on the fretboard of his bass. 

“Should visit him then.” 

“Forget it.” 

“Why?” frowned satoru, geto suguru—his best friend, the one he went to middle and high school with, was not the type to feign indifference. His behavior indeed had satoru confused. 

“Nanami informed he got drunk at the last concert before getting himself into the accident. Drunk driving it is.” 

“Did yaga find out about this?” 

“Fortunately, he didn't. Nanami covered the case before him finding out,” geto brought his hand, swiping back his string of bangs, “if it reaches yaga, he will ban us from using the campus stadium.”

“lucky I'd say…so what now?” The next concert is in 3 days and the band poster is still incomplete. 

Shortly after satoru joined his college, suguru started a band along with two other guys. The band was doing well but due to a disagreement they decided to split up. Suguru then suggested satoru join the band and the following year they gained another member named nanami kento. 

They used to hold performances at random pubs but as its popularity increased, the college decided to give them the campus stadium to hold their concerts. Something they did extra was hiring an artist to do their band poster— hand-drawn. It'd become a little tradition— a lucky charm says suguru, and now that their artist had broken his hand right at the eleventh hour before the concert they will have to— 

“Find a new one.” 

“nana—” geto shuts him before he could finish his sentence. “Nanami is trying his best, so am I. So, you try finding one too.”

“How am I supposed to?” 

“Well I'm sure if you go with a face like this to the art department, people would volunteer in a line.” 

“Same goes with you, why don't you go and ask. I'm sure if you could wear your shirt a little loose you can surely get your clingy ex find a good one." Gojo says in a mocking tone, grabbing his guitar and looping it around his back before leaving the club.

He was sure annoyed, but he will have to find one, geto wasn't in a mood to joke earlier either. Rather than going by himself, he decided to ask shoko get it done for him; he was sure she'd agree for a few packs of cigarettes. 

Walking on his way to the parking lot he texted shoko to meet at their regular cafe. 

“Sup!” 

Satoru smiled knowing shoko could never fail him, even if she didn't agree right away a little guilt trip will do. 

“All good?” 

“Yeah, what do you need?” 

“Just a little favour.” 

“And what that might be?” 

“Get an appropriate artist from the art department. Ren broke his arm and suguru's so down about going himself, ya’ know about his ex,” shoko started grabbing her cup of iced coffee to retreat when gojo slammed two packets of cigarettes on the table. “I've two more packs to offer.” 

Shoko returns to her seat, a big smile on her face. “Okay! Since I'm your empathetic, gracious and compassionate friend, I will try and see what I can get done.” 

“Yes please…” 

“I'm not doing it for cigarettes ya’ know.” 

“Mhmmm” satoru nods his face dramatically.

“Get the other two packets out.” 

“Sure.” 

Satoru knew four packets would get the job done as he parted away from shoko, driving his way back home. 

And the next day when shoko texted him that she got a volunteer and is bringing her to the club, he didn't expected it to be you.

Shoko looped a hand around your shoulders “so this is the club,” chewing a gum, “and this is satoru gojo.” 

“Hi…” you said looking at him, before taking a look at those instruments laying behind. 

It’s you. It's really you. He couldn't believe his eyes yet stood unblinking as if you were some mirage and will fade away once he closes his eyelids.

“Gojo?” Shoko waved a hand infront of his face and realizing he didn't respond to you, he bent his torso bowing to you. 

“Woah,” shoko’s face scrunched up, cringing at his behavior, “when did you start being all formal?” 

You giggled at her comment while satoru hushed her with a series of ‘shut ups’. 

“I'm—” 

“Y/n.” satoru whispered almost as if reminding himself the way your name sounded in his lips. “Y/n, i know.” 

You chuckle at his words, tugging a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“You know her?” shoko tilted her head at him, not expecting you to be acquainted with him. 

“We went to the same high school.” You say when satoru does nothing but gape at you with dreamy eyes. 

His heart did a whole somersault at your sentence. You remembered him; you remembered his name; you remembered he was in the same high school as you. The fact that you regarded him made him so giddy that he was practically ready to throw his hands up in the air or kiss the floor on which you walk.

“Kay’ I'll leave you guys to talk then.” She smirked before raising a cocky eyebrow at satoru, excusing herself from the club. 

“So…you're the only one?” 

“Huh?”

“In the band— i mean…”

“Oh no” he dragged, “there are two more members along with the back musicians…” 

You humm, taking a proper look at the club. 

“You like it?” 

“It has vibrant colours.” 

Your words echoed in his ears, the same which you said to him at the mall. Oh how bad had he wanted to hear those.

“The jazzies,” you read the name of their band aloud, “why jazzies? You only play jazz?” 

“No…we play all sorts of music…it's just a name suguru chose for the band.” 

“you do originals?” 

“Both originals and covers. Anything suguru comes up with.” 

Your mouth forms a little ‘o’ as satoru explains to you. 

“geto seems to be doing all the stuff, what do you do?” 

“You know him?” satoru’s brows furrowed. “Whom?” you ask.

“geto…geto suguru.” 

“Ofc, he was in the same class as us.” 

“Oh.” 

Ofcourse. Both he and geto were in the same class as you. It was no big deal for you to remember both of them. However, accepting that he wasn't any special was bitter. 

Satoru’s eyes followed your figure as you went out to reach for his guitar, mindlessly drawing your finger on its printed patterns.

“You didn't answer my question…”

“I guess I found you for our band.” 

When none of you says anything, satoru breaks the ice, clearing his throat.

“You know how to play?” 

“Err…no.” 

“I can teach you.” 

He slided his index among the few string instruments before pulling out an acoustic one, bringing it to you. 

“Hold the fretboard with your left hand,” satoru pulled the strap over your shoulders, “and bring your right hand over the body, fingers near the sound hole— yep that's right,” he turned your back to him, gently holding the back of your palms. 

“Now, pluck the chords for me,” his chest was against your back as he guided you through the strings. 

“Like this?” you ask him.

“Yes, you're doing very well.” 

The guitar in your hands, played smoothly as satoru guided you through it. 

Just like when he taught you how to play mario kart. 

Satoru looks down at you smiling in excitement. Oh how cute you looked like that. He could admire you twenty-four seven, never wanting to tear his gaze away, for you're that ineffably eesome in his eyes. 

Time almost ceased when you looked up at him, eyes crinkling with a smile that soon died as red creeps up your cheeks. 

Satoru’s face was mere inches away from you, his eyes wavering down to your lips. 

“SATO—RU— oh,” geto bursted in along with nanami causing you both to flinch. 

He quickly leaves your hand. 

“Y/n??” Geto dragged out your name, looking at you with his eyebrows knitting and lips forming a silly smile. 

“Hi,” you pull the strap over your shoulders abandoning the instrument on the nearby couch. “I'm here to volunteer.” 

“You do?” 

“Yeah…” 

“That's great! I can't believe satoru even managed to talk—” satoru smacked him mid sentence. 

Nanami, for some reason, found the ceilings very interesting today, totally ignoring his two seniors.

Geto explained to you about their little tradition of hand drawn posters and showed you the posters they used for the last concerts. You, then, asked them to send them a group picture of the three and their preferences for colours and themes. 

“For that I might need your number—” 

“I- i can send it to her…” Geto passed a suggestive smile at satoru, which he ignored and awkwardly forwarded his phone to you. 

“Yeah that sounds fine. Here's my number, save it and text me later.” 

“Kky!” 

You pull the sling of your tote bag up to your arm, giving them a little nod, before turning your back to leave. 

“Wait!—” satoru held your arms frantically pulling you back. He hurried to the back near the couch you plopped the guitar and shoved it to you. “T-take it.” 

“Ah— no I can't do that.”

“Take it. You can learn how to play and I- I can teach you.” he tried not to stutter yet failed miserably. 

“No i rea—”

“consider it as a gift— from me.” 

You frowned a bit but agreed anyway. 

“That's really sweet of you satoru! I will wait for your text! Bye!!” 

He waved back to you. 

“What was that?” Geto implies in the direction of the exit door through which you just left. 

“nothing.” 

Later, You sent the photo of the finished banner to satoru. It took you 42 hours to finish it. 

Satoru on the other hand was practicing really hard, totally different from his half hearted performances from the previous ones which wasn't unnoticed by the other members. 

He has to be the best. After all, this concert will be different from the previous ones. This time you will be there to see him, cheer for him, and notice him. 

You soon bring the banner rolled up to the club. “Woah! You really did a great job.” 

“This is much better than ren’s.” says nanami before going back to his drum set, giving you a thumbs up.

“Satoru?” 

“Y-yes.” 

“You liked it?” 

“I loved it. It has vibrant colours.” You giggled at his answer, shifting your direction to his gaze. His fingers seemed to flake off any dust on the surface of your work, handling it so gently. 

It wasn't his fault he felt so overwhelmed. All these years he'd yearned for one kind word from your lips yet he was left starving. 

And now you'd drawn him with such precision, that it was as if you were accustomed to drawing him for the hundredth time. 

His heart fluttered at the thought. 

“I will be there at your concert,” you say, turning your back to him. “All the best!” 

The campus stadium was full with a bunch of students and hippies, it was really hard for satoru to try locating you amongst the sea of crowds. 

The music rang loud, brisking fiery cheers from the crowd, full of vim and vigor. The spotlight shone on the three— geto with his vocals and string of bass; satoru with his acoustic guitar; and nanami with his drum set. 

The crowd roared in excitement as music coursed through their veins. 

Will you be cheering too? 

Satoru raised his head from the guitar, plucking chords effortlessly, to his audience. 

And as if it was fate that drew both of you together, his eyes found yours. You were there in the vip section, along with shoko and another girl. You were moving with beats, swaying your arms in rhythm to their music. 

His eyes locked in yours as you waved a hand at him. Oh how, how pretty you looked. Everything except you was a blur to him. 

The crowd goes even more wild, seeing satoru blush, not sensing it was you who caused it. 

The concert continued till past midnight as the vibrations thrumming around the air slowed and wrapped up with their ending song: “Where Our Blue Is.”

As the applause slowly start to dissipate, satoru pulled off his instrument, running to the edge of the stage, and hopped down the raised platform. 

The college girls shrieked baffled, some even reached out, grabbing on his wrists and clothes. He politely got out of their grip making his way to the vip section, geto and nanami following him. 

The still air felt electric as he approached you. 

“you liked the show?” 

“Ofc it was amazing!!” The girl beside you answers in your stead, whom he now recognised as yura.

“It was really good.” you say swallowing a laugh bubbling up your throat at his huffed out appearance. 

“Thanks to your banner, it even attracted more audience.” geto remarked, placing his arm around satoru’s shoulders.

“Thank you.” 

“You should thank me for bringing her in.” Shoko reclaims, looping her hand around your arm, “let's go steal some shots.” 

“Oh no i can't— i don't drink. And I need to hurry back home it's late.” 

“Kyaahh— you've let me down y/nniee. Only two packets of cigarettes can get my mood uplifte—” 

“I will bring it tomorrow.” You say shutting up her whines. 

“kk bye and text me when you get home the rest are joining me right ?”

“Count me out. I'll be driving her home tonight.” Satoru says sheepishly, ignoring the smirks and exchanged looks of his bandmates, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

“No but I was about to go home with her —” yura interrupts.

“Satoru’s fine. You're coming with us.” Shoko dragged her along with geto and nanami, which satoru was glad of. 

Finally he'd be alone with you.

He guided you to the parking lot from the back of the stage, before getting his car keys out. 

It's metallic jingle echoing softly as he presses the button on his key fob. The car responds with a soft beep unlocking as satoru opens the passenger door, holding it open for you. 

“Here,” he gestures with his other hand, “get in.” 

“Sure.” You say gulping thickly.

The thick smell of your cologne mingling with the leather scent of the car.

He closes the door before sprinting to the other side, getting himself in. “Don't— ” he stops you when you reach out for your seat belt. “Allow me the honor” his finger brushes against your skin as he reaches out for the seat belt. 

Your heart practically jolts at his action. 

The click of the seat belt buckle echoes softly in the quiet car, as he straightens back to his former position. 

“Where do you live?” He clears his throat, starting the car engine and flicking on the headlights before pulling out the car into the driveway. 

“In the downtown.” 

“That's quite far from the campus, how bout I drive you everyday back home?” His eyes suggestive, making you chuckle.

“I can't let you do that.”

“Why?” 

“Since it's far from the campus and you won't be visiting often.” 

“Who knows, I might be visiting your place often.” 

You turn your face from the window to look at him. 

“What?” 

“I will have to— to teach you guitar.” 

You crack up at his silliness, finding yourself melting again.

“Okay fine. But that still doesn't counts.” 

“Why not!” 

Since that day, satoru did visited you often, sometimes barging in with shoko and sometimes alone teaching you how to play guitar, plucking on chords and notes. 

And you attended all of his concerts. Their previous artist has recovered now and has resumed his work, so you no longer work with them. However they insist you tag along each time and it's not like you complain. 

You liked satoru’s company. He was handsome, charismatic and popular. You'd watched him your entire high school. He was the one of most popular students, good in a millions of things, starting from academics to being athletic. He'd win every sports competition and even participate in all the extracurriculars. You'd admired him for he could do the things which you didn't had the courage for. 

You liked how he didn't judge people, helped them in their need, and even took care of those garish flowers nobody seemed to double take.

You'd previously met him before high school, though he never brought that up. You wondered if he even remembers the day at the mall. You wanted to ask him so bad, however—

Your world was only limited to papers and paints.

So you painted. 

You painted him so many times that you'd have more than five sketchbooks with paintings full of him.

You wanted to be friends, maybe even more than friends.

But that didn't matter now. He was near you and you would do anything to keep your thumping heart in control and not have satoru cut you out of his life. 

But how can you?

How can you control it when satoru so gently, so lovingly, takes your hand in his. When he smiles so sweetly at you. When he teaches you how to pull chords and other instruments. When he drops you home from college almost everyday. When he hugs you and tells you to take care. 

How are you supposed to be just friends when he's so overly affectionate to you?

Or maybe it's just your overthinking.

Satoru was always polite and sweet, he'd always been sweet to others and you were no special. 

“What are you thinking baby?”

You come out of your daze, rolling your eyes at the nickname.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that…” 

“Not my fault you aren't paying attention to me…” he pulls you closer to him, resting his face on your shoulder. 

“Have you always been this hungry for attention?” you ask, getting yourself comfortable abandoning the guitar beside you on the couch— of the club.

“I've been starving.” 

You cringe at his words. Satoru has another concert today and they just finished practicing an hour ago and now they are taking a break. 

Geto and nanami and other back artists wanted to get some fresh air so they left you and satoru alone to entertain each other. 

“Are you really skipping on me?” He looked at you with puppy eyes. 

“I've a gallery exhibition tomorrow.” You need to scoot back home to get ready for it. It's a big event for you to showcase your arts. 

Satoru hummed, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck, “I'll be there. You're going to do great.” 

An uncertain lump forms in your throat, hard to swallow, you say nothing. Your heart was in a conflict again, no matter what you can absolutely not—

“I will be going then. All the best for your concert.” 

You push satoru away, reaching for your tote bag from the side of a random arm chair. “Wait I will drop—” 

“Who's leaving?” shoko barges in with yura and others. 

Satoru points at you. 

“I just got here. You can't leave already.”

“Yup! Yup! Please stay a little longer, baby. I'll drop you back home, no worries.” 

Shoko exchanges suggestive glances with geto and they somehow persuade you to stay a little longer.

They start practicing for another round when shoko pulls your head closer, “what do you think about gojo?” 

“Huh?!” You shout over the music, unable to hear her. 

She grabbed your hand and pulled you outside, with Yura following closely behind you both.

“What— “ 

“What do you think of gojo?” 

A burning sensation hits you slowly as shoko’s question registers in your mind.

You ears turn red. 

“Eh…um h-he’s a nice guy. A nice musician…and—”

“And?” Shoko wiggled her brows at you, a sly smile on her face. 

“A-a nice friend.” 

“Just a friend?” You nod at her, seemingly more embarrassed at her implications. 

Shoko's face literally radiated disappointment. It was as if someone told her that cigarettes are now banned in the country. “I think he's interested in you,” you choked on air at her remark. “No?” 

Yura shrugged. 

The music slowed down and then paused, bringing your conversation to a momentary halt. 

Satoru rushed outside, complaining about why you left in the middle of his practice.

“Bruh, chill, I'm not trying to steal her away from you. We're just talking!” Shoko jokes as you laugh all flustered. 

Just when you were about to leave one of his fangirls suddenly appeared from nowhere and threw herself into his arms, wrapping hers tightly around his neck. He stumbled back a step, surprised, before regaining his balance but he didn't put her down rather he spinned her around before setting her back down, with a polite smile on his face. 

The other members just saw the scene unfold with amusement. Nanami was surprised at the fan’s boldness and geto simply observed the scene as shoko rolled her eyes, finding it hysterical.

“What do you think of shoko’s remark?” said yura, looping her hand around your arm. 

“What?” You say suppressing the slow tinge of jealousy. 

“About gojo being interested in you…” 

“I-i don't think so.” 

You try to laugh it off.

“Yeah, he's just polite. To pretty much everyone.” 

Her words felt like a splinter to your heart. You shouldn't feel like this. It'd happened before— not now again. 

Yura’s right, satoru is just polite and will do the same for everyone what he does for you— because he's kind. And you're no special.

The entire ride was silent. Satoru kept asking you if anything was wrong but you just guised a smile at him, insisting it was nothing.

The next day at the gallery event, you behaved oddly. You smiled at him but  didn't reach your eyes, your answers to his question were of one word, even avoiding his touch. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked warily.

“No.” 

Days passed by and you distanced yourself more from him. 

Satoru, on the other hand, was almost losing his mind. His world turned upside down. You stopped coming to his concerts, ignored his texts and even refused to let him drop you back home. 

It was yesterday you’d allowed him to teach you the guitar yet today you behaved as if you'd long forgotten him. You were cold and distant, leaving him puzzled by his own thoughts upon your sudden change in demeanor. 

He couldn't help but wonder whether he'd done something that made you this upset? 

You'd said it was nothing.

Then why?

What the fuck did he messed up?

Satoru missed you terribly and violently.

He eyed you from the inside of his car parked a bit far from your department. Today was another day you refused his offer to drive you to class. ‘I'm kinda sick so I won't be going.’ This was what you'd texted him the morning and yet there you were getting off your uber. 

You lied to him. 

“Come with me to their concert today.” Shoko urged you, her lips pursed in a thin line. 

“I'm sorry—”

“No you're not so sorry. Tomorrow’s Saturday, come with me, gojo’s getting mad without you.”

You suck in a breath at the mention of his name.

“What's wrong?” shoko says sipping the last of her drink before plopping it on your tea table. 

“Nothing.” 

“Then come.”

You agreed eventually. Attending the concert won't be a big deal. 

And it wasn't, except for satoru’s piercing gaze burning holes in your back. You accompanied Shoko backstage and casually greeted everyone— including him. 

“God, haven't seen you in so long.” geto side hugged you as nanami gave you a nod of acknowledgement before running off to the stage for some last minute preparations. “Satoru missed you like crazy.” 

You attempt a weak smile in satoru's direction, darting a hesitant glance his way. His gaze was fixed on you, but his expression was unreadable, almost giving shivers down your spine. 

One of the other members suddenly hurried over to Geto, urgently speaking about some issue, he politely excused himself and exited the room, closely followed by Shoko. Now, you were left alone with Satoru, the only two remaining in the room. 

“I should go and check what's the proble—” you try sprinting your way out the door, “wait—” when satoru stops you. 

His hand on your arm, preventing you to go any further and when you struggle to get out of his grip, he tightens his grip even more slamming you to the wall,  pinning you caging your body. 

“What's wrong with you?” 

“Gojo you're hurting m—” 

“Gojo?” His voice cracked, grip losing before letting your arms go, “why? Why must you do this to me?” 

“Do what?” You drift your gaze away unable to look at satoru, who's this close tearing up.

“This— why must you do this? Why must you ignore me? Why must you be distant from me? Why must you lie to me so that I won't bother picking you up or dropping you home? Why must you reject my affection?” He sucks in a breath “You know I can't live like that—” 

“why?” 

“Don't pretend like you don't know…” 

“no no don't say it,” you throw your hands up in the air frantically, “don't— I can’t fall again…no— I know you're just being polite and you will do this for anyone, but I can’t help it if I don't—”

“I love you—” he whispers, bringing your hand up, placing the palm flat to his chest.

“No you don't.” 

“Yes I do— what do you mean you can't fall again,” he suppresses your struggles of wrenching free your hand from his grip. “You have no idea how crazy I'm for you. I love you and I've loved you since I was 17. I was about to confess to you on our graduation day but you just disappeared leaving me alone. And now that I have you I'm not letting you go— make no mistake baby, if there's anyone I’d ever kneel for— it'd be you.” 

Thick silence covered the entire room, except your heavy exhales. Satoru gojo was inches close to you, your hand still laid flat against his heaving chest. 

“B-but I wrote you a note confes—” 

“What note? I never….” confusion twisted on his face bitterly. 

“You threw it in the dustbin— the one I wrote to you the day before graduation.”

His face told the truth, as he shook his head denying it. He never received any note from you— nevertheless having the audacity to throw it in the trash when he'd been hopelessly in love with you all these years.

“Yura told me—” you shut your mouth as the realization hits you. The person whom you considered as a friend backstabbed you long ago. 

She lied about him discarding it while it was actually her who had stolen it off his desk before satoru even noticed.

Your head raised in embarrassment, ready to apologize for the misunderstanding when suddenly, Satoru's lips met yours in a tender kiss. The kiss was filled with such affection and tenderness that you felt as if you might melt in his embrace. His arms held you close, firmly yet gently, as he deepened the kiss. Your heart pounded in your chest as you responded to his kiss. All thoughts of the misunderstanding were forgotten in that moment of pure intimacy before satoru pulled away with frowned brows and a dazed smile. 

“Tell me, would I kiss anyone the same way I kiss you?” he pulled you again, smacking his lips on yours as he snaked a hand around your waist, the other, still firm, holding your palm. 

You could feel his heartbeat going rapid the more he deepens the kiss, sucking on your upper lip. 

He pulls away again.

“Tell me, would my heart beat the same way as it beats around yours?” He smacks his lips again, this time pinching your waist making you gasp as he slips his tongue in.

His hand fumbles with the hem of your dress, pulling away again, a string of drool connecting both of your lips. “Would I be breathless the same way as I'm now?” 

His hand travels up your inner thigh, till it reaches the wet blotch of drenched silk. You grasp his shoulders, when he starts drawing circles over the fabric, smirking before nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck. 

“Satoru, what if someone walks in—” your body jolts, nails digging into his back as he pulls the fabric to the side, plunging a digit in without any warning. “Let them…” he goes back to sucking your skin while rubbing his thumb over your swollen clit. 

Your teeth sank on your bottom lips, his finger slowly plunging in and out of you. “Nngh ‘toru, you’re—” small trembles quivered through your body as he plunged with a faster rhythm. 

“Shh baby! Let me take you” he inserts another digit as your teeth dug even deeper into your lip, stretching you and filling you so well. 

He was stroking you, curling his fingers inside until hitting your most sensitive spot. Sweat beaded your forehead as your trembles gave way to full body shudders, shutting your mouth with your hand not wanting to be loud. 

Satoru drew himself back from your neck, satisfied marking and suckling, withdrawing his digits, slick from you as you wince at the loss of his fullness. 

He brings them up and sucks your essence off his fingers with a pop. “I want to eat you out.” 

Before even you can make out his words he kneels down bunching up the fabric to your hips pulling your panty down properly and latching onto your swollen clit. 

“Fuck ‘toru.” he lapped his tongue on your clit, drawing circles, tasting your sweet before drawing himself back, “I am fucking you baby.” He says, licking a fat stripe on your vulva, his rigid tongue swiping back and forth over your clit sending sensations that make your body jolt. “Here and raw” he hummed against your pussy, his breath warm and hot sending vibrations to your core, before vacuuming on your clit. 

Your hand grasping his hair, as he worked on your orgasm.

He plunged his digits again, rhythmatic with the little pants escaping your mouth, along with the slick sounds of your hips buckling down his fingers. 

He smirked internally at your enthusiasm.

“So fucking nasty for me huh?” He said against your pussy, licking and sucking till you were nothing but withering in mindless pleasure. You were taking it well, suppressing your moans into breathless pants until he sucked, fingers pressing the most sensitive spot inside you. 

A shriek fell past your lips, knees buckling, followed by a string of moans and whimpers. “Oh— fuck..” you try closing your thighs which he prevents with his iron grip of one hand, forcing it open till he has better access. “Don't even dare closing on me…” 

The wet sounds of his fingers, plunging in and out of your gummy walls, echoed throughout the empty room.

Something coiled hot and fuzzy in the lower pit of your stomach. You clenched hard around his finger, when the bass-heavy beats of the band's concert began, causing you to involuntarily shove satoru’s face deeper into your cunt as you heard voices from the stage outside. 

Geto's unmistakable voice rang out, accompanied by the heavy drumming of nanami. They had started performing without satoru. 

“Nn’toru they start—” your voice died down into a breathless gasp as you felt your pelvic muscles clench, tension looping around your entire body as fiery sensations erupted. You arch your back against the wall, unable to stop your toes curling at the intensity of his tongue lapping, finger fuckin' you, as your vision gets blurry. 

“Yeah…cum for me baby” his velvety murmurs were all it took for you to turn into a mess of sensations, your body erupting as your high came down bursting, dripping and spilling down your thighs, his chin and his neck. 

Satoru lapped up the drops carelessly strewn about your skin, his tongue tracing a path along the droplets splattered on your inner thighs as he savored everything with anticipation.

“Tell me, would I kneel infront of anyone and let them cum this hard on my fingers?” He straightened himself up, “and then drink it up like a pussy drunk male whore?” his gaze never left yours, wiping the leftover slick from his chin with the back of his hand before licking it clean.

The music from outside has now gained its intensity, thrumming even louder.

No— you mouthed. 

Satoru’s gaze was still fixed at you, when he unzipped his pants, his aching cock sprang out red, already leaking precum. 

You gape at his girth. 

It was big.

And fucking thick. 

Leaning in, Satoru brings his lips close to your ear, his voice clear over the blaring music from outside, “Like what you see—”

You didn't get to answer him before he slammed right in. 

A cry of pleasure tore from your throat, as you loop your hands around his neck, nails digging on his back.

He hissed out a breath, restraining himself from moving till you adjusted to his size. 

Only then did he slowly pull it out leaving only the tip inside. You grimace at the loss of fullness until he slams back in causing you to clench around him. 

He let out a low guttural moan which was almost inaudible to you over the roar of music if you weren't so close to each other, feeling the raw desire of his voice vibrating on your skin.

“Tell me— hahh- would I let anyone clench this hard on me if this weren't you?” 

You were at a loss for words. 

The kind, polite, sweet satoru you knew was gone. In his place was someone who fucked hard. 

When you don't answer he pulls out and slams right back in harsh, eyes gleaming with wicked intent. 

Satisfied, satoru guides his one hand to tapping on your thigh suggesting you wrap your legs up around him. 

He repositions his dick on your entrance, before supporting your weight with one hand, pinning your body completely to the wall, while the other hand grabs your neck, choking you before giving you a sloppy breathless kiss. 

“You like it don't ya’ hmm fuck— so tight—” 

Your cries came out choked as he pounded into you, in an insane manner, desperate and primal.

“Tell me—” 

Thrust 

“do you—” 

Thrust 

“still think I'm just being polite?”

Thrust.

The roar of geto's voice singing out aloud different notes masked out the filth of your moans. 

The sensation was in again, hot and uproar, coiling beneath the core of your consciousness. Satoru sensed you being close to your climax, continued to plow into your pussy, now supporting your weight with both hands against the wall. 

Your toes curled again, nails digging down his back almost scratching the fabric, “yes that's it love,” your eyes rolled back as you arch your neck unable to handle the pleasure, “cum for me…” 

Your mouth forming a little ‘o’, mind blank as your eyes saw stars. The only consciousness left in your body directed you to the burning of your heat, till it came crashing down.

You came hard letting your head fall on his shoulders too spent for anything.

Satoru too chased his high, thrusting into your swollen pussy, his cock twitching inside you, till you felt him getting sloppy and tense before cumming into you.

The music was still very loud, beats thrumming your flushed veins. 

None of you said anything, remaining in the same position. Satoru pulled himself out, his cum dripping out your vagina, before walking over and placing you on a nearby chair. 

He cleaned you up gently tugging your clothes back and fixes himself before cleaning the mess near the wall. 

“They— they started performing without you…” you huff out, drained still in the very euphoria of your pleasure satoru showed you. 

“I told them to do so…” he shouted over the noise. 

You remain stunned for a while, letting out a breath. “I'm sorry…I avoided you.” 

“Here I thought you were giving me a thousand kisses as an apology.” 

You chuckle at him, back to his normal self— your sweet, kind and maybe not so polite satoru…

He came over to you, lifting you effortlessly before plopping himself down on the chair with you on his lap. 

“I missed you.” 

“I missed you too.” 

“No but I missed you like crazy…” he pouted. “y/n be my girlfriend…please.” 

Tears start forming in your eyes, overwhelmed, you never thought the satoru gojo you met at the mall, the satoru gojo you loved your entire high school would someday ask you to be his girlfriend.

To paint his heart with your love.

“I will.” 

“no wait— marry me instead!”

You dug your face deeper into his chest, laughing at his playfulness. And satoru just smiled.

Finally he would be yours. 

you and Satoru started dating since then and things couldn't have been any better for him. He practically announced to the world that you were his girlfriend, always picking you up and dropping you off from campus, and claiming a kiss as his reward. You’d also cut Yura off, not wanting any more negativity in your life. Satoru was yours, and you were his. And He couldn't be any happier.

Tags: @cccandynecklaces @secretfankoala

© strawberrymochin 24 | plagiarism won't be tolerated |

[xo100]

A summer to remember - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: Lando, Y/N, and their daughter Isla enjoy a perfect summer vacation filled with love, beach fun, and yacht adventures.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 2388

୨ৎ

It was a beautiful summer morning, and the sun was already casting its golden glow over the peaceful coastline. The soft sound of waves lapping against the shore could be heard through the open windows of the cozy villa where Lando Norris, his wife, and their one-year-old daughter, Isla, were spending their vacation. It was a much-needed break from Lando's hectic Formula 1 schedule, and he was determined to make the most of every second with his little family.

Inside the villa, the sweet scent of fresh pastries filled the air as Y/N was busy in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for the three of them. Isla was sitting in her highchair, her big, curious eyes watching her mom move around, while her tiny hands held onto a small stuffed bear that she never seemed to let go of. Lando, fresh from a shower, entered the kitchen with a content smile, his heart swelling at the sight of his two favorite girls.

“Morning, love,” he murmured, stepping up behind Y/N and wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing a soft kiss to the side of her neck. “You’re up early. Didn’t think we’d need to be up so soon on holiday.”

Y/N smiled, leaning back into him as she flipped a pancake. “Well, someone woke up hungry,” she said, glancing over at Isla, who was babbling happily to her bear. “Besides, it’s too beautiful outside to waste the day.”

Lando hummed in agreement, his chin resting on Y/N's shoulder as he watched her cook. “You’re right. What’s the plan today, then? What amazing adventure are we going on?”

Y/N turned her head to meet his gaze, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I thought we could start with a beach day. Just us, some sand, and the ocean. Maybe build a sandcastle with Isla. She’s been dying to get her hands in the sand.”

Lando grinned, his eyes lighting up at the idea. He loved the thought of spending the day on the beach with his family, especially if it meant seeing Isla’s face light up with excitement. “That sounds perfect,” he said, stealing a quick kiss before letting her go. “But I think we should add something extra later. How about a yacht ride this afternoon? I’ve already got one booked for us.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise and delight. “A yacht? Seriously, Lando?”

“Of course,” he replied with a cocky smile, giving her a playful wink. “Figured we’d sail off into the sunset like in the movies. You know, champagne in hand, wind in our hair… or at least, your hair. Isla and I don’t have much of that,” he teased, running a hand through his slightly damp hair for emphasis.

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’re too much sometimes, Norris.”

Lando winked. “And you love it.”

Isla, hearing her dad’s voice, squealed excitedly, her little arms reaching out towards him. Lando’s expression softened instantly as he scooped her up from the highchair and spun her around, her giggles filling the kitchen. “There’s my girl!” he said, holding her close and pressing a kiss to her chubby cheek. “Ready for a fun day with Mum and Dad?”

Isla giggled in response, her tiny hand grabbing onto Lando’s shirt, holding on as if she never wanted to let go. Lando’s heart melted, as it did every time he looked at his daughter. She was the perfect mix of both him and Y/N—her sparkling eyes and infectious laughter were all her mother, while the little dimple in her cheek and the mischievous glint in her eye were pure Lando.

-

After breakfast, the three of them headed down to the beach, which was only a short walk from the villa. The sand was warm beneath their feet, and the ocean stretched out in front of them, glittering under the morning sun. It was the kind of picture-perfect day that made it hard to believe anything else existed beyond this little slice of paradise.

Lando carried Isla on his hip, holding her tiny hand as she stared wide-eyed at the ocean for the first time. Her mouth formed a little "o" of wonder as the gentle breeze tousled her soft hair. “Look at that, Isla,” Lando said, pointing towards the waves. “Isn’t it beautiful? Just like your mum.”

Y/N, who had been spreading out a blanket, glanced over her shoulder and smiled at Lando’s words. “Flatterer,” she teased, though her cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment. No matter how long they’d been together, Lando always knew how to make her heart skip a beat.

Once everything was set up, Y/N and Lando took turns playing with Isla in the sand, helping her dig little holes and attempting to build a sandcastle that mostly ended up in a pile of mush, thanks to Isla’s enthusiastic hands. Lando pretended to be frustrated as Isla gleefully knocked over the little towers he was trying to make. “Isla, love, I’m trying to build a masterpiece here,” he said in mock seriousness, though his grin gave him away.

Isla just giggled, grabbing another handful of sand and letting it slip through her tiny fingers. Y/N watched them with a smile, her heart swelling with love. There was something so pure and beautiful about the way Lando interacted with their daughter. He was playful, patient, and so incredibly gentle with her, like she was the most precious thing in the world. And to him, she was. Both of them were.

-

After a few hours of playing in the sand and dipping their toes in the water, it was time for Isla’s nap. Y/N and Lando packed up their things and headed back to the villa, where Isla quickly fell asleep in her crib, her little face peaceful and content.

With their daughter sound asleep, Y/N and Lando had a rare moment of quiet together. They sat out on the terrace, enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun. Lando stretched out on the lounge chair next to her, his hand lazily tracing circles on her leg. “This is nice,” he murmured, his voice low and relaxed. “Just the two of us for a bit.”

Y/N smiled softly, leaning back in her chair as she gazed out at the ocean. “It is,” she agreed. “It’s nice to just… be. No distractions, no schedules. Just us.”

Lando turned his head to look at her, his eyes filled with that familiar mix of love and admiration that always made her stomach flutter. “You know,” he said quietly, his fingers gently brushing her skin, “I don’t think I tell you enough how much I love you. How much I appreciate everything you do for Isla and me.”

Y/N’s breath caught slightly at the sincerity in his voice. She turned her head to meet his gaze, her heart swelling with emotion. “Lando…”

“No, really,” he insisted, sitting up a little. “I don’t say it enough. You’re incredible, Y/N. The way you love our daughter, the way you take care of us… You make everything feel so effortless, and I just—I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Y/N felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, and she quickly blinked them away, smiling softly at him. “I love you too, Lando. More than you know.”

He leaned in, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss that made her forget about everything else. In that moment, it was just the two of them, wrapped up in each other, the world fading away.

-

Later that afternoon, as the sun began to dip lower in the sky, Lando, Y/N, and Isla boarded the yacht that Lando had arranged. It was a sleek, beautiful boat, and as they set off into the open water, the breeze ruffling their hair, it felt like something out of a dream.

Isla was fascinated by the gentle rocking of the boat, her little hands gripping the edge of the railing as she watched the water with wide eyes. Lando stood behind her, his hands on either side of hers, keeping her steady while whispering little words of encouragement. “Look at that, baby girl. Isn’t it amazing? Just like flying, huh?”

Y/N watched them from her seat, her heart swelling with affection for the two of them. There was something so undeniably sweet about seeing Lando with Isla. He was a natural father, always knowing how to make her smile, always there to comfort her when she was upset.

As the yacht sailed further out, Lando eventually scooped Isla up and carried her back to Y/N, sitting down next to her and cuddling Isla between them. The three of them sat together, watching the sun slowly sink into the horizon, casting a golden-orange glow over the water.

“This is perfect,” Y/N whispered, resting her head on Lando’s shoulder as she cradled Isla in her arms. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

Lando smiled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Me either,” he murmured. “This… this is everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Y/N glanced up at him, her heart swelling at the love in his eyes. “You mean that?”

He looked down at her, his expression serious but filled with so much warmth. “I do. You and Isla… you’re my world, Y/N. Everything I do, it’s for you two. And I’ll never stop loving you, not for a second.”

Her breath caught at his words, and she leaned up to kiss him, slow and sweet.

The kiss lingered, sweet and unhurried, the weight of Lando’s words settling between them like the most beautiful promise. When they finally pulled apart, Y/N rested her forehead against his, their breaths mingling as the world seemed to pause for just a moment. Isla, nestled between them, was quietly playing with Lando’s fingers, completely content in the embrace of her parents.

“I love you, too,” Y/N whispered, her voice full of emotion. “More than I could ever put into words.”

Lando smiled, his thumb gently brushing her cheek. “I know, love,” he murmured. “I feel it every single day.”

They sat there for a long while, the boat gently swaying with the rhythm of the sea, as the last rays of sunlight danced on the horizon. Isla eventually dozed off in Y/N’s arms, her tiny body relaxing completely, the soft rise and fall of her chest the only sound breaking the peaceful silence.

Lando looked down at his daughter, his heart nearly bursting at the sight. He reached out to lightly stroke her hair, his touch so gentle it was almost reverent. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?” he said quietly, his voice filled with awe. “How did we get so lucky?”

Y/N smiled down at Isla, her heart swelling with love for the little girl in her arms. “We did get lucky,” she agreed softly. “She’s everything.”

Lando’s gaze shifted from Isla to Y/N, his expression softening even further. “You’re everything to me, you know that, right?”

Y/N chuckled softly, shaking her head. “I think you’ve told me that about a hundred times today.”

“Well, I mean it. Every time,” he teased, leaning in to kiss her again. “You’re stuck with me, Norris, so I’m gonna remind you as often as I can.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” Y/N whispered against his lips before kissing him back.

As the sun finally disappeared beyond the horizon, the sky fading into a soft twilight, they decided to head back to the villa. Lando took Isla from Y/N’s arms, cradling their sleeping daughter as they made their way back to the dock. The boat ride back was quiet, peaceful, the gentle hum of the engine and the lapping of the water lulling them into a contented silence.

-

When they reached the villa, Lando carefully carried Isla to her room, tucking her into bed with the same care and tenderness he always showed. Y/N stood in the doorway, watching him with a soft smile on her face, her heart full as she took in the sight of Lando, who had once been the carefree, fast-driving boy, now a devoted father and partner.

Lando pressed a soft kiss to Isla’s forehead before pulling the blanket up around her tiny body. He stood for a moment, just watching her sleep, his heart filled with a deep sense of contentment. Finally, he turned to Y/N, slipping his hand into hers as they quietly left the room, closing the door behind them.

Once back in their bedroom, Y/N flopped onto the bed with a happy sigh, stretching her arms above her head. Lando followed, lying down beside her and propping himself up on one elbow to look at her. “So,” he said, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “What’s the verdict? Best day ever?”

Y/N turned her head to look at him, her eyes sparkling with love and amusement. “I’d say it’s definitely up there,” she teased. “But tomorrow might just top it.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what do you have planned for tomorrow?”

Y/N shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

Lando leaned down, his lips brushing hers as he whispered, “Whatever it is, as long as I’m with you and Isla, it’s already perfect.”

Their lips met in a soft, lingering kiss, full of the love and promise they’d built over the years. When they finally pulled apart, Y/N curled into Lando’s side, her head resting on his chest as his arm wrapped around her, holding her close.

“Thank you for today,” Y/N murmured, her eyes growing heavy with exhaustion. “It was perfect.”

Lando kissed the top of her head, his fingers gently running through her hair. “You don’t have to thank me, love. I’d do it all again in a heartbeat. For you and Isla, I’d do anything.”

With that, they fell into a comfortable silence, the sound of the waves outside their window lulling them to sleep. As Lando drifted off, his heart full and his arms wrapped around the woman he loved, he couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest man in the world.

And as the stars twinkled above, casting their soft light over the peaceful villa, one thing was certain: this summer, this moment, would be one they’d cherish forever.

୨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! I’m currently writing part three of baking cookies! I hope to finish it soon and upload it soon!

[the-melancholic-human]

The infamous, long awaited, not once, but twice deleted… simon riley x single mom reader fic is finally here:

Simon riley can’t cook for the life of him. Every time he’s back home from deployment, he’ll just survive on instant noodles and canned beer for maybe a week and then he goes back to base and gladly munches on the prepackaged food they throw at him.

Truth is, it has always been like this, and he’s never seen anything wrong with it.

Until price told him that the next op will be in 3 months and this grown ass man shivered just thinking about eating shitty frozen food for 90 days straight.

He begged price, said he’d stay and clean up the base for free, anything! He’d do anything to stay! And price told him to ‘piss off for 12 weeks before he went insane’

Cut to simon, standing in the frozen goods isle, letting out a groan as he rubbed the bridge of his crooked nose. And he angrily stomped towards the frozen bags on the shelves and dropped everything in sight into his cart, trying so hard not to puke at the mere thought of eating all of that junk. The thing is, he was so mad at that moment that if some poor soul approached him asking where the milk was, they’d get a box of frozen turkey legs shoved down their throat.

And you know, someone did approach him. And no, they got to live.

It was a tiny toddler, maybe around 5 or 6, wearing a purple tutu skirt, and she was holding a dino plushie to her chest, looking straight up at simon.

Picture this, a grown 6’2 man, muscular with tats and everything, looking down at a 5 year old girl with messy hair and yellow rain boots. They both looked so serious, none of them broke the eye contact, staring at each other with puzzled expressions.

Simon was about to continue shopping when he saw a woman running towards them, she dropped down to the ground, distressed and scared, tightly hugging the toddler. She whispered to the kid ‘why did you leave me, never do that to me ever again, mom was so scared’

And you know, he could’ve just walked away at that point. Of course, It was a heartwarming scene to behold, a mother finding their lost child, but god, simon couldn’t stop staring at the woman kneeling on the dirty in front of him, the way her eyes were glossy with tears, her cheeks slightly red from the tear stains and she was beautiful. Beautiful.

It had been years, if not decades, since the last that simon thought a human being was beautiful. He wasn’t used to the butterflies that were flying in his stomach, and he wasn’t sure how to react. So he sat down, next to her.

“Hey… t’s okay, don’t worry luv, you found her, alright?”

“I- she was holding my hand one second… and the next i couldn’t find her! I got so… scared, and she wasn’t anywhere, and i thought- i thought”

Simon wasn’t one for holding hands.

But he held her hand. He put his calloused pale hand over hers, and he couldn’t help but to let out a shaky sigh at the feeling. He was dizzy, like he had been drinking bottles of cheap booze, but he didn’t feel sick like the way the cheap booze made him feel, he felt warm.

And with that, the woman looked up at him,

“Thank you? For, for-“

“I didn’ find her luv, you did, but y’welcome anyway”

He laughed out, trying to act like there weren’t fireworks exploding in his head just by looking at her eyes.

But she chuckled, she chuckled at him!

“Sorry i couldn’t help but notice… is that like 20-ish pizzas you’ve got?”

And she pointed at his cart, which had a huge pile of frozen pizzas stacked on top of each other. She giggled.

He cursed under his breath,

“Yea, i- long story, i… can’t cook?”

“Can’t cook? Cook food?”

He put his hand on his neck, rubbing the aching muscle, as he let out another sigh shaking his head.

“That… can’t be good for you, blood pressure is the silent killer after all”

“I know, i know, i-“

“I could… teach you how to cook?”

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。PRINCESS — GETO SUGURU.

contents. non curse! au, dad! suguru, mom + fem! reader, reader is referred to as “mommy” and “wife,” life with your daughters nanako and mimiko <3, embarrassingly self-indulgent once again

suguru is prideful—you have to hold back a giggle as he gives you a short glare, unwilling to back down.

“it looks good,” he grumbles. you’re not sure if he’s trying to convince you or himself. “it’s great. stop being a jerk. the girls worked hard.”

“of course,” you nod, biting back a grin, “you look lovely. your hair’s never been better.”

“i can hear the laughter in your voice,” he accuses.

“i’m not laughing!”

he raises a brow, and you can’t help it. you giggle. his hair is positively ruined—there are knots and tangles and clips everywhere. you don’t know where one nest of hair starts and where the other ends. everything is everywhere at once and suguru….well, suguru is trying to convince himself this is okay.

it’s for his girls, he reminds himself—anything for his girls.

“you just laughed,” he mutters, looking into the mirror. his eyes are alarmed, but for pride’s sake, he throws on a carefree look as he shrugs. “i look like their princess. they said so themselves.”

“well, i’ll give you a point for sweetest dad ever,” you hum, pulling out a loose clip. “but i deduct five points for falling asleep on watch duty.”

you come home from work and find a sleeping suguru at the foot of the couch with two toddlers hunched over his shoulders, working diligently at his hair. it’s cute—the way he looks as he sleeps peacefully, the way they look as they giggle and twist strands of dark hair with their small fingers. it’s heartwarming and makes you want to keep the moment frozen for just a bit longer.

but then you realize that irresponsibly, suguru has fallen asleep with two toddlers in the house—one of which (you eye a certain blonde) is a bit of a troublemaker.

“negative four?” he gasps, wounded.

“negative four,” you affirm, shaking your head in disappointment.

“i couldn’t help it,” he pouts, “it’s soothing having two sets of hands play with your hair.”

“well, good luck getting this mess out of your hair,” you chuckle, turning to step out of the bathroom—but suguru is quick. his hand snatches your wrist as soon as you take a step.

“hang on,” he tugs, pulling you back in, “you’ve gotta help me with this.”

“i thought you said it was fine,” you raise a brow, “it shouldn’t be much trouble.”

“i haven’t see you all day,” he insists, “can’t i have a relaxing shower with my wife as she washes my hair?”

“i showered this morning. see you after yours though—”

“okay fine,” he deflates, rolling his eyes as he looks off to the side, “this is….gonna take a while to fix.”

you grin victoriously. suguru grumbles under his breath.

“alright,” you poke his cheek with a satisfied smirk, “i’ll help you. if you say pretty please.”

——————

“daddy you changed your hair,” nanako whines in despair as soon as suguru steps out of the bathroom. you stifle a giggle as he looks down at her in alarm.

“sweetheart, daddy just had to shower and—”

“maybe he didn’t like it,” mimiko mumbles quietly from the side. her voice is glum—and like the doting mother you are, your smile drops as you feel your heart ache.

“what? that’s not true!” suguru sputters, “i loved it! mommy loved it too, right?”

the two girls turn to look at you—and because you have long realized that motherhood is the gracefulness of putting your children’s feelings above all else, even if it means lying straight through your teeth, you nod with exaggerated vigor.

“of course!” you say enthusiastically, “it was so unique! i’ve never seen daddy look so….pretty.”

suguru shoots you an unimpressed look as you bite your lip in amusement.

“he was a princess!” nanako brightens, a happy smile erupting over her lips. suguru grins as he melts, pinching the soft flesh of her cheek gently with a low hum.

“i was,” he nods, “wasn’t i beautiful?”

“oh, yeah,” you snort, “way too beautiful—you might dethrone me.”

“mommy we can make you a princess too—”

“who wants dinner?” you cut mimiko off quickly, smiling through the panic, “i bet everyone’s hungry!”

“me!” nanako raises her hand enthusiastically and you sigh in relief—crisis successfully averted. but only for now, you suppose. the devious look suguru gives you tells you this won’t be the last time the suggestion is offered to you.

“what a shame,” suguru sighs dramatically, “i wanted to see you all dolled up. maybe next time.”

and then he reaches down and pulls both girls into his arms, filling the room with giggles as he nibbles on their cheeks affectionately and saunters off to the dinner table. you can’t help but smile softly as you watch his retreating figure—suguru was made for fatherhood, you think, he fills the role so effortlessly.

and then….you hear a thump and a hissed curse under his breath in the distance.

“mommy, daddy said a bad word!” nanako calls, earning a panicked no i didn’t! from your husband. “now he’s lying,” she adds.

well….no one said he was perfect.

i just know nanako is simultaneously a daddy’s girl who also rats him out and tattles 24/7 bc she thinks it’s funny when he gets in trouble

[cameronsprincess]

what about reader is pregnant and rafe lovessssss her big and swollen boobs

i love this duo. pregnant/mom reader with rafe🙂‍↕️ so thank u for sending this in!

CW: pregnant!reader, titty sucking and grabbing, lowkey canon rafe, but he’s also down bad for reader n her tits.

note: there was two ways i could have taken this, and i chose this. hope y’all enjoy!🥰

He had always loved your tits. From the moment you had met him, Rafe was always touching your boobs in some way.

Whether it was grabbing at them with his hands any and everywhere, or laying his head on them when he slept, — saying they were his ‘pillows’ — Rafe was obsessed with your boobs.

But, since he’d knocked you up, and your tits had grew a significant amount — all swollen and big — Rafe was even more obsessed with them.

You were currently in the shower, trying to soothe your aching boobs when the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing catches your attention.

“Rafe?” you said softly, knowing it was him.

He didn’t respond though.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, shaking your head softly before you moved back under the stream of hot water pouring from the shower. Your right hand softly gripped one of your tits, massaging it softly to try and relieve some of the pressure you were feeling.

Squeezing your eyes shut and focusing on soothing the pain you were feeling, you didn’t hear the shower door open, or Rafe stepping inside behind you. His strong arms wrapping around your waist had you jumping, eyes popped open and a small scream coming from you.

“Oh fuck, Rafe! What’re you-” you tried asking, but his hands gripping harshly at your tits had you clamping your mouth shut.

“Shhhh, let me take care of you baby girl, you’re in pain, huh?”

You sighed, your eyes fluttering shut again as his large palms gently massaged your tits, making the intense pressure on them subside.

“Y-Yeah… They’re so swollen and they hurt, Rafe..”

Rafe shushed you once again, continuing the gentle squeezing and kneading movements with his hands.

A moan slips past your lips, “Rafe.. That feels..”

“Good?” He finishes your thought for you.

You nod your head, “Yeah.. So good.”

Rafe dips his head down, leaving a kiss on your shoulder and neck before he whispers in your ear, “Your tits are so beautiful, baby. So fuckin’ swollen and big.. Just wanna suck on them.”

His hands squeezed at your breasts harder, making your knees feel weak. You moaned again, Rafe growling in your ear before he drops his hands and spins your body around to face him, pressing your back into the cold shower wall.

“Gonna suck on these perfect tits baby, gonna make the pain go away. Just relax f’me, aight?”

You nod your head, letting out a breathless, “yeah.”

Next thing you knew, Rafe was lifting you into his arms, your swollen, pregnant belly pushing into his firm chest. You opened your mouth to tell him you’re too heavy for him to be holding right now, but a moan slips out instead when Rafe wraps his lips around your hardened nipple.

He sucked hard, nipping at the pebbled bud with his teeth and dragging it out before releasing it, moving his mouth to the other breast and repeating his actions.

Rafe licked, bit, and sucked on your tits, your mind going fuzzy from how good he was making you feel, the pain from mere minutes ago long forgotten now.

“Shit, Rafe… Feels so good, please, don’t stop.”

Rafe bites at your nipple again before releasing it and looking into your eyes, “Wasn’t planning on it, sweetheart. These tits are so fucking beautiful as is, but goddamn, they’re so sexy right now. Swollen and big, gonna have to keep you knocked up forever just so your tits stay like this.”

You giggled, slapping at his chest. “I don’t think I can do this too many times, baby. My whole body hurts, but, I’ll let you knock me up a few more times to get your fix of my big, swollen boobs.”

Rafe smiled widely, his blue eyes shining with adoration and excitement. “Sounds good to me. Now relax, and let me take care of my girl.”

RAFE TAGLIST: @drewstarkeyslut @princessslutt @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @sturnioloshacker @starkeysprincess @rafescurtainbangz @atorturedpoetx @redhead1180 @jjsmarijuana @romaescapes @kisses4angel

rafe cameron masterlist | taglist form | requests ml

[peachesofteal]

Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader

Simon wakes up before you.

At first, he forgets. He blanks on the fact that you’re in his bed, curled up against his side, lips slightly parted and pressed against his bicep, a leg haphazardly thrown over his thigh.

When he realizes, he freezes. Turns his head just so, enough that he can see you, stare at where your lashes lay against your cheek, the exposed part of your shoulder, peeking out from your too big t shirt with a stretched out neck. The sun has just barely come up, peeking through the curtains, shining across the bed and the slope of your body, curves and lines all mapped out across his own sheets and blankets, his own pillow the one supporting your head.

He should feel bad. He knows. And he does, a bit. Feels awful that most of your stuff is ruined and the building manager is slow moving, taking his time getting a recovery team into your flat.

But he also feels grateful. Lucky. Stupefied. Here you are… in his bed.

You twitch, eyes moving in your sleep, and then your face burrows farther between him and the pillow, nose pressing against his skin, your hand curling up between his ribs and your chest, still blissfully drifting, soft puffs of air tickling across his arm.

On instinct, pulled along by some magnetic force, his fingers glance across your forehead, to your temple. You still don’t stir, and he strokes the pad of his thumb along the apple of your cheek, soft skin beneath him a marvel on its own. His girl. In his bed.

The baby monitor sparks alive. It’s crackly and cranky, fresh morning tears calling to you from the other room, and you wake instantly, blinking your eyes open, orienting yourself. You look exhausted, long night of trying to sort through your belongings catching up quick, and he can’t stand the idea of you dead on your feet.

“Morning.” You’re a little shy, hesitant, and it melts him, makes him want to pull you in tight, keep you in his arms forever.

“Morning.” You try to shake the stupor of sleep free, half moving to your elbows before he cups your shoulder. “I’ll get ‘er.” He murmurs.

“I can, it’s fine. She’ll need a clean nappy.” You tell him, half asleep again, and he leans down, brushing his lips onto your forehead.

“I know. Rest, sweetheart. I’ll bring her in.”

Emmaline is displeased for the first ten minutes she’s awake. Simon changes her, and manages to get her into a new onesie, remembering how you always get her fresh clothes first thing in the morning. He’s cautious, moving her legs and arms into sleeves and maneuvering her as carefully as he can, his touch gentle, supportive as he sits her up. She settles once he’s finished, babbling as he carries her back to bed.

“You’re talkative this mornin, huh sweet pea?” She reaches for him, little fingers stretching out across what he imagines must feel like a great distance, trying to pull at the mussed strands of his hair. “Alright, alright.” She wriggles, small smile on her face, revealing a barely there white ridge in her bottom gum, a tooth poking through. “Let’s say hi to mum. Want to see mama? And then we’ll get some breakfast. How’s that sound?”

“There she is.” You hum, reaching for her when he crosses the threshold of his bedroom. She goes without fuss, cuddling into your arms, and Simon’s breath hitches, heart stumbling in his chest at the two of you. “What is it?” You whisper, frowning, and as he shakes his head, you hold your hand out to him, beckoning him close, urging him back into the bed. “C’mere then?” He’s so weak for you, easily swayed by just the bat of your eyelashes, so sweet and pretty, his shining glimpse of sun in such a bleak life. He folds, sliding back in beside you, an arm above your head, his finger now in the grip of Emma’s hands, the digit being dragged to her teething mouth. You smile, at her, and then up to him, kissing her cheek with a loud smacking sound, the affection making her squeal with a delighted giggle. If he was standing, he thinks his knees would be weak. He thinks he might be on the floor at the sight, the reality, of what this is, what this is growing into, and he clears his throat, trying to chase away the emotion that knots in the back of his throat as he keeps his eyes locked on the two of you.

His girls. In his bed.

[rafeschicana]

𐙚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡ ˚ just like her mama/daddy 𐙚˙✧˖°📷 ༘

dad!rafe x mom!reader

the constant beeping woke you from your afternoon nap. only given birth three weeks ago naps with your newborn baby were routine. you blinked, slowly bringing your hands to your face and rubbing your eyes. it’s only when you hear a shriek, do you sit up in bed panicking. you quickly look to the left of your bed where your daughter’s bassinet is, finding it empty. after struggling with removing the throw blanket that was tangled between your legs, you leave the room in search of your newborn daughter and her father.

“i’m sorry baby i know, i know mama is smarter than daddy, please be patient” rafe whispers to the fussy baby who whines in his arms. “Just let me put you down for one second!” he pleads to a fussy ari. that is when you decide to help. “i got it” you giggle walking towards the bottle warmer rafe couldn’t get started. “sorry we woke you, babe, she’s hungry and i couldn’t get that shit on.” he mumbles.

“that’s okay, our baby is like her father very impatient..when he wants something.” you smirk making him shake his head. the sound of his raspy laugh calming the little bundle in his arms. “how are you feeling?” the simple question warming up your insides. rafe was already a loving husband before becoming a father. now seeing him as a dad almost brings you to tears every time. “im okay i needed that nap” you whisper running a finger down ari’s nose.

“she's so beautiful” you now understood what everyone says about moms believing they have the cutest newborn in the world. “just like her mama” rafe bent down placing a gentle kiss on your lips. he never fails to make you feel beautiful even though you thought you looked a mess. wearing one of rafe's shirts which now had spit-up stains. his own sweats were also covered in dried-up milk. it was all part of the new parent life. you'd get adjusted soon enough.

ari squirmed in her father’s arms. bottom lip forming a baby pout. “my princess don't you start i hate seeing you cry.” rafe cooed rocking back and forth. “it’s coming ari girl” pulling the bottle from the warmer you tested out the temperature on your wrist. “just needs a couple of seconds to cool down” your girl was very picky when it came to her milk temperature. if it was room temperature she wouldn't take it, spitting it right out with a whine. It needed to be the perfect in-between. “mama’s got milk okay let's go sit down” rafe moved towards the living room with you following behind.

immediately snuggling into both of your loves as they rested on the sofa. “it should be good” you smiled passing rafe ari’s bottle. “only three ounces lets see how fast she drinks this shit” rafe joked knowing his baby was a hungry little thing. “We might have to change her schedule to a bottle every two hours.” it'll be hard but maybe she'll sleep a little longer through the night.

“hey, hey slow down princess it ain't going anywhere” rafe gently removed the bottle from ari’s mouth. ari let out an angry breath, furrowing her eyebrows. “i think she's mad at you daddy” you giggled craning your neck to kiss his nose. rafe threw his head back in silent laughter “she looks so funny when she's mad” he brought the bottle back to her mouth. ari immediately going back to drinking her milk in slow gulps. “still cute though”

“just like her daddy” you whispered before letting your eyes close into slumber.

[thewritingrowlet]

The Tireless Wife, ft. Red Velvet Irene

tags: creampie, deepthroat—you know what, just read the whole thing, hm?

length: 8k+

author's note: I speedran this fic so please forgive me if it's too messy; I just wanted to make use of this free time.

p.s. this fic takes place before and after The Determined Wife.

-

Irene walks in the bedroom as you’re gathering your consciousness after a very good, post-sex sleep. “Ah, good morning, my love.” She high steps towards the bed to join you, taking her rightful place in your arms. “Love, on a scale of 1 to 10, how awake are you?” “Seven, probably.” You rub your eyes to see if maybe you can improve that score. “Okay, maybe eight and a half,” you revise.

Irene thinks that it’s not good enough; she wants you to be 100% in the right mind this morning, which is odd. She sits on your lap and starts kissing you passionately, seemingly in high spirits; she’s likely very satisfied with the fact that you’ve granted her wish to be bred.

“Tell me again.” “Nine and a half,” you tease. Your wife rolls her eyes. “Ugh, please don’t play hard to get.” You chuckle. “Aww, come on, love; I just want more kisses.” She puts on the beautiful smile that’s unique to her and only her. “Ah, fine, you win.”

She comes in for one more deep kiss, going as far as invading the space of your mouth with her tongue—it’s unfortunate that she breaks it soon after, though. “If that didn’t make it 10, I’m going to suck you off,” she says. “Sounds tempting,” you tease, “well, maybe later—let’s get to your point first.”

With a smile, Irene fishes something out of her shorts pocket and hands it to you with a closed palm. It is only when she lets go that you can see what it is: a pregnancy test device with two lines on it. “I’m a mother, love,” Irene starts breaking into tears, “I’m a mother, and there’s no question that you’re the father.”

Tears, endless of them, start flowing freely out of your eyes and onto your cheeks. “Y-you’re pregnant, my love?” Your grip on the little test kit weakens as your hand starts trembling—oh, look: a tear lands on the device, right where the little screen is. “I am,” Irene joins you in crying, “thank you for granting my wish.”

You put the small device to the side because you want to use your hands to hug your wife. “No, no, no,” you say, “thank you for giving me such a huge blessing.” Irene starts crying more freely, and you can’t help but do the same. “We’re going to become parents, love—isn’t that crazy?” “It is,” you agree with her, “thank you for making it possible for us, love.”

Irene pulls away from the hug, placing her hands on your shoulders instead. “You need to get ready for work, don’t you, love—let me start your shower.” You shake your head. “Screw work,” you say, “I want to spend this wonderful day with you and only you.” Your words draw a wide smile on her face. “Sounds great, love.”

She turns around before leaning against your chest, placing your hand right on her stomach that’s now occupied by the little one—your little one (the fetus hasn’t formed yet, yes, but the point still stands). Irene giggles as you rub her belly gently. “You’ll need to come up with some names, love.” “You first,” you say, “do you have ideas?” She taps her chin as she thinks of a candidate. “Jihoon-ie if it’s a boy, and Hyewon-ie if it’s a girl.”

You’re a little startled; Jihoon was the name of your little brother who passed away just before he turned 9 years old (you were 13 at the time) due to cardiac arrest. Your parents, specifically your mom, took his passing heavily, falling into what you learned years later as depression, which explained why they weren’t at home a lot—they were busy seeking help from professionals, both at home and abroad.

Irene knows about this story, obviously; you’ve taken her to his resting place a few times. “His memories can live on with our child, love,” she explains the reason behind the idea. “I’m glad that you have that idea, but personally, I think I’d let him rest,” you say, and Irene dares not argue.

“What about your ideas, love?” You take a few deep breaths as you try to come up with some names. “I don’t have any boy names in my head, but Yeseo if it’s a girl,” you say. Irene likes your idea; she thinks that it’s such a pretty and cute name for a girl. “Well, we’ll need to wait until they can tell if we’re having a son or a daughter.”

-

Mr. Hwang, the cook, has made some fettuccine for breakfast, since Irene said that she’s been craving pasta—a pregnant woman shall have what she wants. So, here you are: sitting at the table in the dining room with Irene, ready to fill your stomach with this tasty-looking dish.

Seeing the tall glass of water reminds you of something important that you want to address with Irene. “My love,” you place a hand over hers, “now that we’re going to become parents, let’s stop drinking alcohol, hm?” She nods enthusiastically. “I was about to suggest that idea to you, hon.” You smile. “I’m glad that we’re on the same page.” “About that, though,” she backtracks, “what about our collection? We have some nice wine and champagne.”

You ring the kitchen bell, and Mr. Hwang appears after a few seconds. “Yes, sir?” “Do you drink, Mr. Hwang?” “I do, sir, occasionally,” he admits. “Nice,” you put on a thumbs-up, “would you like to keep our liquor collection? We want to stop drinking now that we’re expecting.” His eyes widen in surprise. “I would be honored, sir, but as far as I know, they’re expensive.” You smile kindly while placing a hand on the side of his arm. “The only thing I care about, Mr. Hwang, is my wife and my child’s health—I don’t care about those bottles.” “If you say so—oh, and congratulations on the pregnancy, sir.”

After convincing Mr. Hwang to keep your collection of liquor for himself, you return to your wife. “Mr. Hwang will take care of those bottles, love; we won’t have to throw them out,” you inform her. “Erm, actually,” says Irene, “can we give the Masseto to my parents, love?” You agree with her request, thus officially marking the start of the transition to a clear-headed life without alcohol.

-

You invite Irene to join you on the sofa because you think that you have some things to discuss with her. “What do you want to talk about, love?” “Which hospital do you want, and how do you want to deliver the baby?” After thinking about it for a while, Irene says she wants to try delivering without surgery but is open to it as the last option. As for the hospital, she chooses the Sacred Heart Hospital, which is a very good hospital that’s also not too far from your house.

“Next up, our stuff,” you say, making Irene confused. “What do you mean?” “Well, we’re going to need a new car; I don’t think transporting the 3 of us in that 911 or your Genesis is a good idea.” “Do you want to sell the 911?” No, you don’t want to; Irene bought that silver speedster as a birthday present for you. “I was thinking that we should just buy a new one—something that can accommodate us and our child comfortably.” She pulls out her phone to search for options, but you stop her. “That doesn’t have to happen today, love,” you say, “we can think about that later on; I was just trying to get it out there, you know.”

Irene moves to sit on your lap. “I have some things to ask from you, love,” she starts on a new subject, “tell me what you think about them, okay?” You nod to get her to continue. “First, whenever possible, please come home early and don’t spend too much time working.” You say yes without hesitation, which satisfies her. Work will always be there, but your child’s growth and other important moments only happen once—wouldn’t want to miss your child’s first word or first step, would you?

“Second,” she puts up two fingers in front of your eyes, “please have mercy on me when we have sex.” You ask her to elaborate further. “I know that we can get rough sometimes, so let’s turn it down a bit to make sure the child isn’t in danger or anything.” “What about the frequency?” You take your turn to ask. “Just the usual, please; I’ll tell you when I want it, and you can tell me when you want it.” Again, without hesitation, you agree to her terms, which apparently serves as a segue for her next point.

“Can I have you, love?” You grin as you feel your cock getting hard. “You certainly can, love—can I have you as well?” Irene giggles cutely. “That goes hand-in-hand, doesn’t it?” “Just wanted to make sure, baby.”

Because of the time and day, there are other people in the house (i.e. the cook and the cleaning staff), so the only place you can have sex in is the bedroom. On your way to the bedroom with Irene in your arms, she taps your chin to get your attention. “Love, Miss Jo wants to take a leave to visit her parents,” she says. “We’ll go out later and get her some stuff to take home.”

You set Irene gently onto the bed in compliance with her request to take things easier during sex. “Ah, my gentle giant,” she comments. She hasn’t used that nickname in quite some time, now that you think about it. That name was given to you by your fellow student council members (including Irene) back in university when you refused to beat up a toilet peeper and would rather have him formally punished by the university and charged by the victims. “I thought you’ve forgotten that name.” She lets out a giggle. “How can I forget, love?”

You come in for a kiss to indicate that you’ve had enough chatter, and Irene welcomes you warmly as usual. “Please, love,” she gulps, “please start already.” You reach for her pajama top and undo the first button. “Patience, baby; I still need to undress you.” She cooperates by undoing her top starting from the bottom button and meeting you halfway. “There, I helped,” she says, making you laugh a little. She then proceeds to pull down her shorts just as you’re about to ask her.

Your gaze lands on her firm belly where your child is being safely kept. “I hope you won’t hate me when my stomach gets bigger.” You shake your head rapidly. “There’s no way I’d hate you for that—you’re my wife and that’s our child in your belly,” you say, and you see that Irene’s eyes are threatening to burst.

You join her in bed after undressing yourself and after she has taken off her underwear. You then pull her into a hug and peck her head everywhere, making her let out that lovely laugh that’s special to her. Once you stop, she places her hands on each side of your face. “I swear on everything I have that I’m so glad that I ended up with you and not with that Kim Junghwan guy.” “He never deserved you,” you say, demeaning. “That is true,” she agrees with you, “you and only you, love.”

You take the bottom position today, letting Irene have her way with you. “I have a feeling that I’d not be able to ride you as well with a big belly,” she comments as she moves to sit on your lap. You’re starting to get ticked off, but at the same time, she’s coming from a good place, so for now, you simply let out a sigh. “Love, please don’t worry about the sex; we’ll adapt as the pregnancy continues. Just focus on your health and stress levels, please.” Irene places her hands on her chest. “That’s touching, love—thank you.”

With your cock in hand, she aims it at her entrance. “Here I go,” she notifies you, as if you couldn’t see what she’s doing. Irene slowly goes down on your shaft, hugging it with her tight and warm walls. You breathe deeply as she starts moving up and down. “Fuck, that’s good,” you praise her to rile her up. “Yeah, daddy?” There it is: the kink that you love the most—Irene has always been quick to use it.

Irene bends backwards slightly and fixes her grip on your knees. After making sure that she’s steady, she starts moving faster on your cock, and you desperately want to hold those bouncing plump tits of hers. “Daddy, daddy,” she chants, “oh, you’re so deep in me, daddy.” “Keep it up, baby—fuck, you’re doing so well.”

Irene might not be the best at working out, but damn is she good at managing her stamina during sex; it feels like she has this extra battery pack that’s specifically used for sex, and as long as praises and words of affirmation keep flowing out of your lips, that battery will never die.

“Oh, no, daddy,” she slows down a little, “I think I’m about to cum.” “I don’t see the problem with that.” You slap her butt a few times to get her to speed up again. “Go on, baby; be good and cum for me.” Irene nods and picks up the pace again, trying to adhere to your command to “be good.”

Irene’s thighs shake violently when her first orgasm hits while her walls are gripping your shaft very tightly, making it very hard to you to not just bust right here. You pull her towards you and hug her. “Good job, love—very good job.” “You—oh, you always bring the best out of me, daddy,” she replies despite the heavy pants. “I can say the same about you, love,” you whisper back.

Without retreating from her pussy, you roll over until you’re the one on top. “You’re so sweaty, love,” you comment while wiping her forehead, “that must’ve been exhausting for you.” Irene shakes her head feebly. “A-anything to make you happy, daddy.” The way she always puts your pleasure as the top priority is touching. “Alright, let’s take a breather first, okay?”

“Take a breather,” you say, but you’re still slowly moving back and forth in her pussy, making her let out soft moans despite the exhaustion. “Ha-have mercy—please, daddy,” she utters faintly, almost too quiet to reach your ears. “Don’t worry, baby; I’m being gentle.”

As you keep fucking her like this, you can feel your orgasm inching closer, so you pause for now. “Okay, I’m going to stop here—I don’t want to cum without your full attention.” “B-but you have my attention, daddy.” You chuckle. “Your eyes are barely open, love.” When you see her opening her mouth to make an argument, you quickly lean in for a kiss to interrupt her. “Relax, love, we have all day.”

You’ve spent the last few minutes kissing (while still being inside her), and Irene is the first to break it. “When are you going to give me your cum, daddy?” You assess that she has recovered enough for you to finish this, so to answer her, “Right now.” You straighten your back and prepare to start. “Where do you want it, love?” Irene scoffs. “Where else?” “But what about your career?” The callback to the career vs. child argument makes her laugh. “I’m literally pregnant right now, in case you forgot—fill me however much you want, daddy.”

You place her legs together on one side of your shoulder and start fucking her. Irene promptly places her hands on her tits, doing whatever she can to add more stimulation on top of that you’re giving her. “Daddy, you’re close, aren’t you? I can feel it, you know.” You let out a hum to answer her. “Give it to me whenever, daddy.”

You fasten your grip on her legs as you turn up the pace to the maximum of your ability. Your wife has now been reduced to moans and screams; she no longer has the headspace to play with her tits and instead just puts her hands on each side of her head.

“Love, I—” Before you can finish your sentence, semen escapes your shaft and enters her body, making her let out a long, sensual moan because of the warmth. “Oh, daddy,” she gasps, “oh, God, you’ve filled me again.” You let go of her legs and fall limply onto her body. “I love you, baby,” you say right into her ear. “I love you more, daddy.”

-

As you roll closer towards your house, you see your wife patiently waiting for you in the front garden among the flowers. She turns her head and puts on a smile for you, and you swear to God that exhaustion and stress from work has been taken away, and along with it, your breath.

You quickly jump out of your car, stumbling on your own leg in the process. “Welcome home, love,” she greets you with open arms. You take your rightful spot in her arms, and you can feel her belly bump against yours. “Tired, love?” “I was but not anymore,” you say. “It’s like magic, isn’t it—the moment you see your significant other, everything else just disappears.” “Absolutely,” you agree with her.

Irene invites you to sit on the garden bench with her, but you opt to take a knee in front of her instead. You rub her belly gently to greet your little one, and Irene looks at you with a smile of approval. “I want to say that I’m tired, but it doesn’t feel right.” You furrow your eyebrows. “Why not?” “I mean, it’s you who went to work, not me.” “That’s absurd; you might be at home, but I imagine being pregnant is tiring.” You can tell that she wants to make another argument, but the way you’re looking at her right in the eyes makes her bury that intention.

“Have you eaten, by the way?” Irene nods. “I asked Mr. Hwang to make me lentil soup for lunch.” Lentil soup sounds nice and healthy, which is important for a pregnant woman. “It was so delicious, by the way.” You laugh. “He’d be in deep trouble if it wasn’t.”

You think that this is enough catching up for now and that it’s time to get into the house, so you carry her inside safely. Irene says she wants to watch TV because she’s “tired of being in the bedroom,” so you put her down on the sofa and hand her the remote. You then tell her that you’ll join her after taking a quick shower.

When you get back to the living room to join her, you see that Irene is watching this little documentary on Giethoorn, this beautiful hamlet in the Netherlands where rivers run everywhere. She keeps letting out wows as shots of the area are shown on screen, deeply immersed in the show. “Do you think we can move there one day, love?” “Oh, man, I hope so; that looks like a really nice place to live in.” Irene turns your head towards you. “Maybe if we can’t live in the Netherlands, we can live in some quieter place instead—Damyang or Jinhae, perhaps?” You smile at her. “We’ll see what we can do, alright?” Not satisfied with just words, she makes you make a pinky promise that you’ll seriously consider it.

-

You didn’t know that you fell asleep, only waking up because you feel soft pokes on your thigh.

“Hngh?”

“Love, you’re tired, aren’t you?”

“A little.”

“Please, that doesn’t look like a little.”

“A little lot, perhaps,” you change your answer.

“I was going to invite you to sleep, but you haven’t eaten yet.”

“That’s fine, love.”

“No, it’s not fine—do you want to have food delivered here?”

“Eh, sure,” you accept her offer, “order something light for me, please.”

Irene doesn’t say anything, presumably busy scrolling through the food delivery app to find something for you. “Light, light, light—what’s something that’s light?” “A lamp—haha, get it?” Irene slaps your thigh for your joke. “Daddy is really funny, isn’t he, Hyewon-ah?” Hearing your wife say that name startles you a tad. “Hyewon-ah? Really?” “I don’t know,” Irene shrugs, “I just like that name.” “Oh, I thought we’ve found out if we’re having a daughter.”

Irene focuses on ordering food again, and something finally catches her fancy. “What about some toast, love?” “What toast?” She shows you the available options, from peanut butter toast to kimchi and cheese toast. “Get me one peanut butter toast, please.” She says that it’s a better deal to order at least 3 toasts, so she adds some other toast to the order. “It’ll be here in around 45 minutes, love.” You thank her for the help and then invite her to rest her head on your lap.

“Love me, please,” she says in this aegyo-esque voice. You bend down and peck her on the forehead. “Anything specific, love?” Irene opens and closes her mouth a few times, seemingly trying to judge if she should speak her mind. “You’re so tired, though,” she utters, and you can already tell what she’s getting at. “You want me between your legs, don’t you?” Your wife covers her red face. “W-well, if you put it like that…” “We’ll wait until I have some food in my stomach and see how we can proceed—do we have a deal?” “Yes, deal!” The way her voice cracks makes you laugh. “My, my, aren’t you a cutie?”

-

The toasts are here: you’ve grabbed the bag from the delivery man and put it on the living room table.

You pick up the box with the text “PB” written on it. Irene says that she has bought some toast from this place before and hopes that you’ll like it like she does. You nod in satisfaction after taking the first bite. “I think I know what brand of peanut butter this is,” you comment. She scratches her head in cluelessness. “I don’t know, love; they all taste the same to me.”

You notice that Irene has two hands on top of each other on her stomach and keeps licking her lips while watching you eat. “Want to have a bite, lovely?” She nods timidly. “It looks so good,” she admits, “b-but I don’t know if I should eat.” You tilt your head in confusion. “Why not?” “Erm, I think that’s ultra-processed food—that’s one. Two, I don’t want to gain too much weight.” Weight can be quite a sensitive subject, especially considering that your wife has always been paying close attention to it.

You keep chewing as you think of a reasonable answer—well, here it goes: “I’m sure that you have good intentions, but I’m almost certain that one toast won’t hurt you or Hyewon-ie.” You can tell that she’s starting to get swayed, as proven by how she has a box with “CHOCO” written on it in her hands. “Forgive me, Hyewon-ah, but I really want this toast.”

You panic a little when Irene sheds a tear after taking a bite. “Oh my, are you okay, love?” She nods again. “T-this is so good, but I feel so guilty for eating this—oh, I’m so sorry, Hyewon-ah.” You put down your and her toast on the table so that you can hold her hands. “Love, love,” you try to get her to focus on you, “it’s okay, no one is yelling at you for eating one toast—not me, not Doctor Shin, and certainly not Hyewon-ie.” “A-are you sure?” “Yes,” you say in a resolute tone. “We’ll be just fine, trust me.”

Feeling decently comforted and assured by your words, Irene asks if she can have her toast again, so you give it back to her. You make sure you don’t forget to wipe that random tear off her cheek while you’re at it. “Thank you,” she utters softly. “You’re welcome, my love,” you say equally softly.

-

After finishing those tasty and quite filling toast, Irene asks if she can have you between her legs, so you stand up from your seat and stretch your body to warm up. “I apologize in advance if I finish too fast; I’m kind of tired.” Your wife shakes her head. “As long as your load is mine, I don’t really see the problem with finishing fast—I’ll probably finish before you, anyway.”

There’s only you and your wife in this house right now, but that doesn’t change the fact that sex should only happen in the bedroom for the next 6 to 7 months; it’s more comfortable for her and safer for your child.

After getting undressed, Irene asks to be helped sit on the stool that she prepared earlier today. “It seems like you have an idea,” you comment. “Yes,” she says, “I want you back there.” “What happened to turning it down?” “This isn’t our first time, is it—just remember to be gentle.”

You open the bedside drawer to find the lube and see that it’s not there. “We don’t have lube?” Irene looks away to hide her red cheeks. “Erm, I might or might not have used it earlier.” You furrow your eyebrows. “You used it? For what?” She shyly admits that she fucked herself in the rear with a dildo this afternoon. “I-I wanted to prepare for you, because I know you like it when I think ahead.”

It’s not strange or new to you that your wife is lustful; you’ve known that for years at this point. That said, you’d think that being pregnant would turn that lustfulness down, but it doesn’t seem like it so far—in fact, it feels like she’s more lustful than ever.

You stand in front of her and hold her chin. “Oh, love, what would you do without me—who could satisfy you if not me?” “I don’t know, daddy; it’s always been you since day one.” You reward her with a kiss for answering correctly. “May I, then?” Irene giggles slightly. “Certainly.”

You walk around and look for your target. “I’m pulling this plug out, alright?” After getting a nod of approval from your wife, you gently tug on the plug. “Ngh!” Irene clenches her fists when she feels her rear being stretched by the wide part of the plug. “Relax, love—it’s almost out.” With a pop, the plug is finally out of her tight ass, and you quickly put your mouth on it for the first time ever in this marriage, making your wife gasp in shock. “Daddy, no, I’m dirty there.”

You ignore her and keep running your tongue on her puckered hole; quite fun, you must admit. Occasionally, you try parting her cheeks apart so that you can put the tip of your tongue in her rear.

Feeling weak, Irene starts tumbling forwards, but you catch her just in time to save her from going face first onto the floor. “God, you’re so crazy, daddy.” “Your new task, baby, is to keep it clean all the time—is that clear?” Irene nods in obedience. “Y-yes, sir; I will try my best.” You squeeze her butt cheek lightly. “Good girl,” you praise her.

You get on your feet and hug the panting woman from behind. “Are you alright?” “Y-yes—fuck, you’re fucking crazy.” You pinch a nipple, more surprising than painful. “That’s not how you speak to me, woman.” “S-sorry, sir, b-but you are indeed crazy.” You kiss her on the back of the head. “I hope you didn’t mind, by the way.” Your wife shakes her head. “Not—oh, not at all.”

“Sir, daddy,” Irene can’t choose between the two, “would you fuck my ass, please?” “Thought you’d never ask, baby.” You stroke your shaft to make sure that it’s properly hard and ready while your wife spreads her butt cheeks to give you access. You place the tip right on the entrance of her forbidden hole. “Are you ready, baby?” “Yes—oh, God, fuck, yes.”

You waste little time and go deep right away into her warmed-up hole. “Fuck, you’re always so tight right here.” “Hngh! Ngh!” Irene can only let out grunts as she’s getting overwhelmed by the stimulation you’re giving her. “No one can touch you like I do, hm?” She shakes her head weakly as a response, still unable to say anything back.

You hook her arms backwards as you get ready to fuck her to make sure she doesn’t fall off the stool. “I’m yours, daddy—fuck me however you want,” she says, as if it was ever a question. “Bet.”

With this steady posture, you start fucking her ass roughly, forcing Irene to scream with each thrust delivered. “My husband is fucking amazing—Hyewon-ah, daddy is fucking amazing,” Irene thinks as the sounds of your hips crashing against her butt enter her ears.

As time goes on, everything starts to get blurry for Irene, and it doesn’t help that from this position, she has no control over how fast you’re fucking her. “P-please stop,” she says weakly, hoping that it’ll still reach your ears amongst the clapping sounds. It doesn’t seem like you heard her, though; you’re still fucking her ass recklessly, which leaves her no other choice but to just yell out loud. “DADDY, STOP—PLEASE!” Hearing her scream makes you stop abruptly with more than half your shaft still lodged in her ass. “Daddy, please, let me breathe,” Irene begs.

Still panting, you gently retreat from her gaped ass. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” you just realize how rough you’ve been. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry, love,” you repeat to show sincerity. You pull her into your arms and take a seat on the edge of the bed, and the sight of your wife crying (from getting fucked in the ass, nonetheless) twists your heart like nothing else. You keep repeating apologies while rubbing her stomach gently, hoping that doing so could also tell Hyewon that you’re regretful of your actions.

Irene feebly reaches for your face. “I-it’s okay; it was good until it became overwhelming, daddy.” You lie her down on her side and inspect the result of your recklessness—it seems like she didn’t get injured by your shaft. “I think you’re fine, baby.” “Great,” she replies, “so what are you waiting for?” You blink rapidly in confusion. “I thought you were in pain?” “I never said that,” she shrugs. Seeing that you’re silent, Irene piles on. “C’mon, look at yourself, daddy: you’re still hard and ready to fuck me—let me finish the job, please.” “Fine,” you give up, “I’m not getting in your ass again, though.”

Irene says that you have a deal and asks you to lie down so that she can take control, which is fine by you; you’ve had enough “fun” being dominant tonight. You keep an eye on your wife as she aims your shaft towards her entrance from the cowgirl position. You grit your teeth when Irene slowly sits down on your cock—you’re in her ass again. “Oh, fuck, welcome back, daddy.” “I thought we had a deal.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Irene deflects, “anyway, I hope you enjoy the ride, hihihi.”

Irene rests her subtly bulged belly on your body while her hips are busy bouncing up and down along your length. She keeps chanting “you’re in my ass” as if you can’t tell that you are indeed in her ass. You reach around and slap her butt. “Go faster.” Having planted her hands on your chest, Irene tries to bounce faster on your cock. “Oh, oh, yes—how’s this, daddy?” It’s you who can’t respond this time; just like earlier, the way her muscles are squeezing you prevents you from thinking straight and coming up with words to say.

You rest your head on the pillow while your wife is busy fucking herself on your cock (while moaning so freaking freely), and for some reason, your eyelids feel like they weighed 100 kilograms—what the hell are they so heavy for? “You must be close, daddy,” Irene makes a keen observation. “Uh-huh,” are all that escape your lips. Hearing that you’re close serves as fuel for Irene to keep up the tempo and make you bust with her ass; this tireless woman can be very crazy in bed, pregnant or not.

“Love, I’m about to—oh, fuck, I’m about to bust,” you warn her. “Yeah?” Her voice is barely heard thanks to the endless clapping noises. You grip the pillow your head is resting on as your cock starts twitching wildly in her rear. “Baby, please,” you let your desperation to cum be known to her.

Irene slams herself down onto your body, and you instantly erupt, surprising the both of you at the same time. She throws her head back as your warm semen floods her ass. “Oh, oh, yes, daddy.” It was her who did all the work, but it’s you who’s panting heavily.

“Love, thank you so much.” Irene removes you from her ass and lies down next to you. “Even when tired, you’re still so strong,” she praises while her hand runs along your length. “What’s your secret, daddy?” “You’re my secret; if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be like this.” You let out a low moan when your wife manages to squeeze the last bit of semen out of you. “You’re so cute, you know that?” You chuckle. “No, I don’t.”

-

It feels odd to not have Irene welcome you at the driveway, especially since she’s been doing that consistently for the past few weeks, too. Her Genesis is parked neatly in the usual spot, so she must be at home, but where is she?

“I’m home.” You close the door behind you and scan your surroundings—still no sign of your wife, making you wonder if perhaps she’s asleep. You make your way towards the bedroom, and your jaw drops immediately when you see her kneeling on the floor while being almost entirely naked. Irene buckles a little, presumably because she feels a fetus kick. “Even Hyewon-ie doesn’t approve,” you comment.

You rub the side of her face gently. “What on God’s green earth are you trying to do, love?” The ball gag in her mouth prevents her from answering, but she has this little spanker in her hands that she’s trying to hand over to you. “Love, please, what are you doing?” Irene just looks at your feet while her hands are on her thighs. “This isn’t how a woman in her second trimester is supposed to behave, is it?” You close your eyes and take a few deep breaths to get yourself together. “Fine, I’ll play your game.”

Your wife steals some glances as you undress in front of her, and when you’re finished, you take the time to take off her bra, exposing her tits that you swear have grown bigger recently. You then lift her onto her feet to remove her panties, and Irene instantly drops back down onto the floor after you’re done. “Oh, you’re that serious, aren’t you?”

You pick up the slim paddle from the floor and prepare to swing. “Wait, where do I hit her?” You look for places to hit her on, but the more you think about it, the more that you don’t want to do it. That said, you imagine that it’d disappoint her if you chicken out, so you decide to play along until she taps out.

You hit her on the right shoulder once. “Ngh!” Irene lets out a yelp of surprise when the paddle lands. “That’s one.” You move the paddle to your other hand and hit her on the left shoulder. “I’ll count until 29, okay?” Irene nods in response, and that’s when you look for other targets.

You ask her to show you her palms and hit them successively. “Any ideas?” Your wife taps her thighs, indicating that she wants to be hit there, so you hit those two spots, harder than you’d like to admit, making her grunt in pain. “Sorry.” That sounds less sincere than you’d like, but it’s okay, you’ll make it up to her later.

Before you continue, you join her on the floor and unlatch the gag. “This doesn’t look comfortable, so I’m taking it off,” you say. Irene relaxes her mouth now that she’s free. “Thank you, master.” You sigh. “Master? Really?” Irene nods enthusiastically. “Yes, master.”

You stand back up and swing at her tender breasts out of nowhere. “Fucking naughty, aren’t you?” As Irene opens her mouth to say something, you hit her breasts again. “You’re pregnant, and this is how you fucking act? Explain yourself.” You tell her to explain herself, but you don’t give her the chance to do so, interrupting her with a hit on the forearm. “M-master, please.” “Please what?” You subconsciously raise your tone. “Please punish me; I-I’ve been naughty.” You roll your eyes. “Fuck it, we’re going back to zero.”

You hit her on different places in rapid succession, and Irene screams after each one. “How many?” “S-six, master.” “Good,” you praise her emptily, “count to 18, slut.” You initially chose 29, which is the date she was born, but changed it to 18, which is the date you were born. As much as you’re putting on a cold charade for her, you don’t have the heart to hit her 29 fucking times.

You tell her to get on her hands and knees to expose other parts of her body. You smack her on the back a few times before moving on to her butt and hitting it a few more times. “How many?” Irene chokes up momentarily before she manages to get her answer out. “T-twelve, sir.”

To end the show, you give her some hard hits on the back of her thighs. “E-eighteen, master.” “On your knees,” you command, and Irene obeys right away. “Explain yourself, or else.” “I-I was just trying new stuff,” she says. “Is that it?” Irene just nods, and you can’t help but sigh, feeling somewhat frustrated by her simple answer.

“Love, be honest with me: why are you acting like this?” After taking a deep breath, Irene proceeds to explain the whole thing, from how she tore the left rear tire of her car against an elevated curb while trying to pull into a gas station this afternoon, to the fact that she touched herself thrice while thinking about you. “L-like I said, I’ve been very naughty.” You exhale deeply. “Those few things don’t require punishment—especially not of this sort.” Your wife shakes her head. “But I want to be punished,” she insists.

“Have you had enough, or what?” Irene slowly shifts her gaze to meet yours, and you know that she knows that you’re aroused, as shown by your erect cock. “Do whatever you please, master,” she says, hiding her excitement behind the façade of obedience.

Still kneeling in front of you, Irene eases you into her mouth. You place a hand on the back of her head and pull her towards you, forcing your cock deeper. She’s taken you deep plenty of times, so this is neither new nor difficult for her. “Hold it there and count to 10.” After finishing her count, Irene retreats until only your tip is in her mouth. “Very good—now do it 9 more times.”

Irene does as you command, doing each repetition passionately, much to your satisfaction. “That’s very good, love,” you make sure you don’t forget to praise her. You retreat from her wet mouth to let her breathe, and she promptly inhales sharply. “I-I hope I did well, sir.” You smile kindly. “Of course; you always do everything so well.”

You take a seat on the edge of the bed while you wait for Irene to get herself together. “Anything else, master?” A lit bulb appears over your head. “Is it just me, love, or have your breasts gotten bigger?” She takes a quick look at herself. “I-I think they have indeed grown, master.” “They look so soft, don’t you think?” She nods to your question. “Would you like to touch them, sir?” “I have a better idea,” you say, “put them around my cock.”

Irene crawls towards you and places your cock right between her extra plump tits. “Like this, sir?” You moan in a low voice as your shaft grinds against her tits. “You—oh, fuck, you’re so good at every-fucking-thing.” Your wife blushes. “I aim to please, master.” “Oh, trust me, I’m very pleased right now, love.”

Much to your pleasure, Irene presses her chin against her chest and catches your tip with her mouth every time it pokes through her tits. You pet her head gently. “Good fucking job, baby—fuck, I’m about to bust.” “Please, give me your cum, master.” Irene moves her tits faster, eager to have your first load of the day.

You throw your head back and close your eyes as semen spurts out of the tip of your cock, landing all over her face and chest. “Oh my, very thick,” she comments. “I love how you taste, master; your diet works well for me too, you know.” You chuckle. “Good to know, baby.”

You invite Irene to lie down in bed with you. “You haven’t cum yet.” “Yes, I have; I told you I touched myself a lot today.” You get your tie from the messy pile of clothes. “Hands above your head, please.” She puts her hands together above her head, and you tie them together. “Are we ready?” Irene looks at you nervously. “Please have mercy, master; I’ve had a lot of orgasm today.” “That wasn’t my doing, was it?”

Irene gasps in shock when she feels your hand on her little nub. “Sensitive much?” “Please, master.” “Please what, baby?” “I need to cum again, master—make me cum with your hands, please.” “Well, since you asked so nicely.” You use one hand to stimulate her nub and use the other to play with her tits, going fast and fervent right from the gate.

In the moment of high stimulation, Irene accidentally kicks you in the head—how did that even happen? “That’s not nice.” “I-I—fuck, I’m so sorry, master. I didn’t mean it.” “That’s strike one, Miss Bae,” you warn. To punish her behavior, you increase the intensity of stimulation on her pussy, making her jolt around more. It’s fine if she were to kick you again; you have some more ideas in your head to get her back.

Your wife keeps moaning loudly and freely as her fourth orgasm looms ahead. “Master, master,” Irene begs for your attention, “I won’t last too long, master.” “Oh, is that so?” You plunge two fingers into her pussy and finger-fuck her, and Irene can’t help but moan, possibly until her voice disappears.

Your hand starts getting tired, but as timing has it, she’s also very, very close to orgasm. With an ear-piercing scream, Irene explodes: her legs are shaking violently, and her juice is coming out torrentially. “Very, very good, my love—you’re such a big bomb, aren’t you?” You free her hands and move to barrage her sweaty head with pecks. “We’ll wait until you’re relaxed before doing anything else, alright?”

Amid all this, you notice that you’re getting rock hard again. You start stroking your cock with the sight of your naked wife in front of you. Irene, in her exhausted state, looks at you. “Don’t waste your cum,” she says vaguely. “What do you mean?” “Put it somewhere in me, master,” she clarifies. You stop for a moment. “You’re very exhausted, love. I don’t want to burden you with more sex.” Your wife shakes her head. “I can take it, don’t worry.”

You take a position in between her legs, aiming your cock at her pussy in the process. You announce that you’re going in, and Irene moans weakly at the first contact. She tells you that you need to do all the work this, citing her exhaustion. “Never thought I’d hear such words from you; you’ve been tireless recently,” you say, earning a little chuckle from her.

You kiss her while your shaft goes in and out of her, dropping whatever charade you’ve been using these past few hours. “I love you, baby—I love you so fucking much.” “I-I love you more, hon—you’re the best for me.” Her warm words make you smile. “I’ll stay by your side until death do us part, my love.” “You have a deal.” You hug her tightly when your second load of the day enters her body.

“We’ll rest a bit, if that’s okay with you.” “Sure,” Irene says, “I can’t even stand up right now.”

-

You feel rapid taps on your chest, making you wake up crassly in surprise. When your eyes are open enough to provide vision, you see that your wife is seated in bed with Yeseo in her arms. “Yes, love?” Irene doesn’t answer your question and instead, starts breaking down in tears. “C-can you take care of her a little? I-I want to rest.”

You slap yourself as hard as you can for leaving your wife to sleep and, in turn, forcing her to tend to your child alone. “My goodness, I’m so sorry, love.” You open your hands to receive your daughter who is wrapped snug with a little blanket, and Irene immediately falls flat onto the bed—she’s still crying, though. “Go to sleep if you can, love; I’ll keep her safe.” “I’m such a bad mom,” she insults herself unnecessarily, “I can’t even stay up for my daughter.” “No, you’re not a bad mom—trust me, you’re not.” To offer her some peace, you tell her that you’ll be in the living room with Yeseo until morning. “I’ll see you later, okay?” You give her a peck as a parting gift.

“Yeseo-yah,” you whisper softly, “while mommy catches her breath, we’ll hang out in the living room, okay?” Having been born just a few weeks ago, Yeseo can’t respond much aside from a small head movement, which you’ll gladly accept as an answer. “We’re going to get along very well, aren’t we, sweetie?”

You turn on the TV to watch something in an attempt make sure you don’t fall asleep, and that’s when you see the time: 02:09 a.m. “We’re staying up late, sweetie—I hope you won’t make this a habit when you’re grown up,” you comment.

You make sure that the TV is muted so that it doesn’t startle your daughter when this video starts. “Oh my, look at that place, Yeseo-yah.” A shot of beautiful countryside scenery in Jeju steals your attention, and it’s very hard to resist the temptation to move there with your family. “What do you say we move there, sweetie?” Yeseo lets out a small squeal, and you guess that she’s interested in living there. “Aha, great minds think alike, hey?”

You remember your wife asking if the family can move to somewhere quieter to raise Yeseo in, and now that she’s actually here, you’re really contemplating the opportunity. In your head, you try to think about what work would be like if you lived in a place like Jeju, which is even farther from the big capital. Your brain suggests stepping down from your post and earning from dividends, which sounds like a sound idea. Irene had stepped down from her position of director of risk management two months before Yeseo was born, so it’s not the craziest idea to follow suit.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you and mommy, Yeseo-yah.” You want to say that you’re willing to die for them, but Irene’s words enter your mind: why die for family, if you can be healthy and stay by their side instead? You laugh a little as you recall that exchange. “Mommy is an amazing person, sweetie. Sometimes I can’t believe I ended up with her.”

-

Irene wakes up around 6 hours later, feeling somewhat refreshed after a decent night’s sleep. The first thing she does is obviously to check up on her husband and daughter.

“Look at you: sleeping with Yeseo in your hands.” Irene unlocks her phone and takes a picture of you sleeping with your mouth wide open while Yeseo is chilling in your arms. She gets teary eyes looking at this scene in the living room.

She never had the idea of being childfree and has taken a more neutral stance about it, but at the same time, having Yeseo is quite the surprise turn of her life.

Irene quietly joins you on the sofa to not disturb your peace. “Love, love,” she whispers, trying to get you to wake up, “wake up, please; it’s time for work.” “Screw work,” she hears you say, “I’m stepping down.” She knows that you’re referring to your job. “Are you sure?” “Yes,” you reply again, “we’re moving to Jeju.”

Before getting too excited, Irene makes sure you’re awake. “Love, seriously, wake up.” The way you’re suddenly looking at her with eyes wide open makes her jump. “Yes?” “Were you serious about moving to Jeju?” You nod. “I’ve talked with Yeseo about it, and she agreed.” Irene bursts out laughing, shaking her head in amusement. “Sure, she did.” “Just ask her yourself if you don’t believe me.”

She plays along with your joke and asks Yeseo about her opinion on moving out of the big city, to which she replies by crying out loud, taking the two of you by surprise. “What, what, what,” you panic, “is she hungry? She’s probably hungry, right?” Irene unbuttons her pajama to expose a nipple Yeseo can latch on, so you hand your daughter over to her to be breastfed.

“Sorry, love, but these tits aren’t solely yours anymore,” Irene quips. You start laughing out loud, finding it difficult to stop. “What—what are you talking about? Why did you say it like that?” Your wife joins you in laughing. “I don’t know—it just felt right to say it.” You shake your head, highly amused by your wife’s odd statement. “It’s fine; I’m totally content with sharing them with Yeseo,” you clarify.

-

You take one last look at your house that is now empty. “We spent a fortune on this house, didn’t we, love?” You nod in agreement. “It’s crazy how much we bought this place for,” you reply. “I hope you won’t regret moving out,” Irene expresses her concern. You look at her right in the eyes while your hands are on either side of her waist. “We’re doing this for Yeseo—this is bigger than just the two of us, love.”

You walk with her outside towards the driveway, where Yeseo’s stroller is parked. “Isn’t she so cute?” “She is,” you say, “I swear I will do and give everything for you and her.” Irene puts on a big smile.

“We’ll give her a good life and a bright future, love.”

“We absolutely will.”

[jaysng]

birthday cake with your daugther | park sunghoon

pairing: dad!sunghoon x mom!reader (ft. their kid)

genre: fluff

summary: sunghoons hardest task on your birthday was making it through the baking a cake process, because your mischievous little girl couldn’t control her hunger.

• do not copy or repost my work

the soft morning light streamed through the curtains, gently lighting up the kitchen. sunghoon stood at the island, an apron tied around his waist and flour dusting his fingers.

today was special—it was your birthday, and he wanted to make it perfect. he wasn’t exactly an expert in baking, but he was determined to make you a cake, and that had to count for something, right?

beside him sat your daughter, sori, perched on the counter with her small legs dangling. she was only three and a half, but she already had a mischievous spark in her eyes, watching everything her appa did with curiosity.

he handed her a tiny spoon to help, though most of her “helping” involved sneaking little bits of batter into her mouth when sunghoon wasn’t looking.

“sori, we need to save that for the cake, you know,” sunghoon said, a smile tugging at his lips as he glanced at her.

“but it’s yummy, appa,” she giggled, her fingers already sticky with batter.

sunghoon shook his head, chuckling. “just a little more, but we need enough for eomma’s cake, okay?”

the batter was finally ready, thick and smooth, and sunghoon carefully poured it into the pan. sori watched, her hands resting on the edge of the counter, her eyes wide. he smoothed the top of the batter and moved to place it in the oven, feeling a small sense of accomplishment. but when he turned back around, he noticed something strange—the leftover batter had a small, suspicious dent in it.

he raised an eyebrow, looking at sori. “what happened here?”

“nothing,” she said quickly, though the crumbs on her lips betrayed her.

“hmm,” sunghoon hummed, pretending to be serious. “looks like someone’s been eating more than just a little.”

sori giggled, clearly unbothered by his fake interrogation. sunghoon couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head. “you’re going to ruin your appetite.”

the smell of the cake filled the house as it baked, the scent of vanilla warm and comforting. sunghoon checked the time—still plenty of it before you would wake up. he turned his attention to the frosting, starting to whip it up while sori hovered nearby, occasionally peeking over his shoulder.

“appa,” she whispered, “can i taste?”

“just wait a little longer,” sunghoon said, gently nudging her away with a smile. “we’ll eat it all together when it’s done.”

but when sunghoon was distracted for just a moment—reaching for the decorations—sori took her chance. with a quick glance to make sure he wasn’t watching, she leaned over the cake that had been cooling on the counter. her tiny fingers dug into the soft, warm sponge, pulling out bite-sized pieces, one after the other.

sunghoon turned back and froze. there it was—a small cave, hollowed out in the middle of the cake, and beside it, sori stood proudly with crumbs all over her fingers and face.

“sori!” he exclaimed, his eyes wide as he tried not to laugh. she looked up at him, her expression innocent but completely unbothered.

“i was hungry, appa.”

sunghoon sighed, crouching down to her level. “oh no, what are we going to do now?” his voice was soft, more amused than upset. it was hard to be mad when she looked so proud of herself.

sori just giggled again, not realizing the chaos she’d caused. sunghoon ran a hand through his hair, staring at the cake. “i guess we’ll have to fix it.”

he wasn’t sure how, but after a few minutes of thinking, he decided to just cover up the damage with extra frosting. it wouldn’t be perfect, but it was better than nothing. as he spread the frosting over the cake, sunghoon kept glancing at sori, shaking his head in disbelief but smiling all the same. she reminded him so much of you—full of life, cheeky, and impossible not to love.

once the cake was finally done, sunghoon stepped back to admire his work. it wasn’t perfect—definitely a little lopsided, and the frosting was a bit thick where he’d tried to cover sori’s “cave,” but it would do.

“okay,” he said, turning to sori. “let’s go wake eomma.”

he picked her up, her small arms wrapping around his neck, and the two of them tiptoed quietly down the hallway toward your bedroom. the house was still, and as they entered the room, the soft sound of your breathing filled the space. sunghoon set sori gently on the bed, and she immediately crawled over to your side, her little hands patting your arm.

“eomma,” she whispered, her voice full of excitement. “wake up!”

you stirred, slowly opening your eyes to the sight of sori’s bright, smiling face. her cheeks were flushed with excitement, and her hands were still slightly sticky. then, you noticed sunghoon standing at the doorway with a soft smile, holding a cake—your birthday cake.

“happy birthday,” he said, his voice low and warm.

you sat up, blinking the sleep from your eyes, a smile spreading across your face. sori wasted no time climbing into your lap, her little hands on your cheeks, pressing sloppy kisses to your face.

“appa and i made a cake!” she announced proudly. “but i ate some.”

sunghoon’s quiet laugh filled the room, and he walked over, placing the cake on the bedside table. “yeah, she left her mark on it,” he said, his eyes crinkling in amusement.

you glanced at the cake, noticing the slightly uneven surface, and couldn’t help but laugh. it wasn’t perfect, but it was the most perfect thing you could’ve asked for.

“thank you,” you whispered, pulling sori close to kiss her forehead, then reaching for sunghoon, who leaned down to kiss you gently on the lips.

“let’s eat before sori finishes the rest of it,” sunghoon joked, sitting down beside you.

the three of you shared slices of the slightly lopsided cake, laughter filling the room as sunghoon recounted the morning’s adventure in the kitchen.

it didn’t matter that the cake wasn’t perfect. in this moment, with sunghoon and sori by your side, it was everything.

do not copy or repost my work @/jaysng

[lxkeee]

HEAVEN AND BACK!

—PART TWO

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Alastor's Mom! Angel! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Romance, love at first sight.

Warnings: none.

Notes: this one is comparably shorter than chapter one.

PART ONE | PART THREE

Lucifer was absolutely baffled, so many things happened in one day. First, a very gorgeous and tall seraphim angel decided to come and stay at the hotel to oversee its progress and on top of all that, the said angel is that damn radio demon's mother.

Lucifer watches as the angel, who he learned that goes by the name [y/n] is still currently scolding her son. Him, Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, and Husk are at the bar area just watching it unfold.

Alastor sitting on the couch, head hung low in shame but there's still a smile on his face.

“So... You killed your father and many more? And also ate them....?” [y/n] asked, disappointed in her voice. Alastor's deer ears lay flat as he remained seated as he listened to his mother.

“Oh god, my son is a cannibal!” [y/n] cries, Niffty wiping away her tears as [y/n] carried the smaller girl in her arms—how did it happen? She just somehow was raising her arms for uppies while the taller woman was scolding her boss and the older woman just did so without thinking and carried her and then resumed to scolding Alastor.

“But they deserved it, mother! He deserved it for—” Alastor tried to defend himself, his smile strained.

[Y/n]'s own smile widened, eye twitching, “Who said you could speak? My own son is talking back to me!” she cries, smiling through the tears, her wings puffed up in anger and Alastor shuts up his mouth immediately.

“Where did I go wrong in raising you? I didn't raise you like this.” [y/n] sobs, Niffty handing her a handkerchief where the taller woman accepted and used it to blow her nose.

“Yikes.” Lucifer muttered in amusement as he sipped his dry martini while watching the angelic woman continuing to scold Alastor. Now that's my kind of woman. He thought before almost choking his drink. Hold up. What is wrong with him today? He barely knew the woman and he is already thinking like this.

“You okay there pal? I'm pretty sure you almost choked on your drink.” Angel Dust laughs and Lucifer just glares at him.

Charlie giggles beside him excitedly, “Isn't it amazing? Alastor reunited with his mom! And heaven finally decided to help us!” Charlie squeals and Vaggie hums in agreement.

“Well... It surely isn't a happy one as smile's is getting scolded even more.” Angel Dusts laughs and Husk chuckles behind the counter.

Back to the mother and son, Alastor is finally done with seeing his mother cry. He hugged her in which the older woman was weakly hitting his chest while she sniffled. Niffty being pressed in-between the two. She's just glad to be there.

“I am sorry, mother. I'm still your son.“ Alastor says softly and [y/n] sniffled against her son's embrace.

“I'm still mad at you.” she says, and Alastor's smile widens every slightly, “I know.” he says with a grin before getting his forehead flicked once more by his mother, making him winced in pain. [Y/n] gently lowering Niffty down to the floor. Lucifer and Husk snickering at the bar area.

[Y/n] pouted as she finally left her son's embrace, “And here I was waiting in heaven for so long wondering what's taking you so long and only for you to be here in hell? My goodness...” [y/n] sighs, pinching her own nose, her other hand on her hip.

“My bad.” Alastor says with a grin and [y/n] sighs, wiping the tears away from her eyes then clapping her hands together and a smile is back on her face as she turns around to look at the other hotel crew.

“Well, I suppose that is over. I am sorry for the scene I've caused, this young man right here is to blame.” [y/n] deadpans, pointing her arms towards Alastor who was lounging on the couch, he just gave a thumbs up.

[Y/n] sighs, shaking her head. “Back to business, I myself am not really sure why Sera decided to change her mind but she's my boss so... I don't really have a choice.” [y/n] says with a shrug, smoothly lying to them and the others just look at her with a slight deadpanned expression.

“I will be staying here for the time being, Sera didn't exactly say for how long...” She says before her eyes widened, Sera really didn't tell her how long she'll be here.

“I am starting to wonder if I accidentally got myself kicked out of heaven.” She muttered and Lucifer snickered slightly, looking at her with an amused smile on his face.

“Well if that's the case, there's a space made just for you in hell.” Lucifer says smoothly and [y/n] smirked, “My... Special treatment for lil' ol' me by the king of hell himself? It would be an honor.” she says with a small smirk, approaching the bar area and standing in front of the sitting man, looking down on him.

“I feel like they're each other's types.” Angel Dust whispers to Vaggie in which he gets elbowed to the side by the fallen exorcist.

Alastor's eye twitched in annoyance as he watched the scene unfold, not my mother. Speed walking to the two, Alastor held his mother's shoulders protectively and slid her away from the king of hell.

“Alastor, dear... I can handle myself.” [y/n] chuckles and Alastor just smiled, though his smile strained a little bit. Clearly annoyed how the king of hell is getting smooth with his mother.

“I'll be showing my mother around and show her to her room. Please excuse us.” Alastor says as he gently drags [y/n] with him upstairs with Niffty following the two.

The others just watched in amusement, still hearing the two's slowly muffling voices as they left the room.

“Mama please, he's the king of hell. Why are you already getting so chummy with him?” Alastor's muffled voice can be heard as they walk away.

“Have you seen him, Alastor? Heaven's scrolls didn't do him any justice, he's gorgeous!” [y/n] says with a laugh and a followed groan from Alastor. Their voices can no longer be heard as they were getting farther and farther away.

Angel Dust nudges Lucifer and wiggles his eyebrows at the short king, the arachnid teasing the man as he can really see Lucifer's flustered cheeks.

“You two looked nice together, you better shoot your shot.” Angel Dust says with a smirk which prompted Lucifer to stammer.

“Huh? What? I just met her for God's sake!” Lucifer says, pulling his collar away from his throat as he awkwardly chuckles.

“Please... Everyone can see you were eyeing her like a piece of candy.” Husk says gruffly behind the counter, scoffing.

Lucifer blushed, nervous that he wasn't slicked at all.

“Can't blame him to be honest.” Charlie says with a chuckle as she sipped her wine. Vaggie just rolls her eyes playfully, “Still, she's suspicious.” she says and Angel Dust scoffs, “Please, when are you not? Besides, if you ever end up right, I'm sure short king over here can handle her.” He says with a shrug before smirking at Lucifer, “Just admit you were admiring the sexy angel lady, couldn't blame ya toots!” he giggles.

“I wasn't... You guys are just seeing things.” he deadpans, his ears tinted pink. His daughter, Maggie, Angel Dust, and Husk just gave him a raised eyebrow. Clearly not believing him in the slightest.

“Whatever you say, short king.” Angel Dust says in amusement.

TAGLIST:

@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @yukichan67 @apple-pop @akiralovespenguins @storydays @kaurochika @amphiroxx @lil-writer-523 @punching-pentagrams @moonlovers34 @h3110kitty0 @bethleeham @hcneyiced @ashleygryffindor @ghostdoodlen @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @cupidsgift @shilladodo

[pshcomforts]

➳ broken love | psh.

dad!sunghoon x mom!femreader

“every time i think of you, it’s just killing me”

synopsis: you and sunghoon still see each other whenever your guys’ daughter, seo-ji, is dropped off to one another — and it’s obvious you two still love each other, even after the divorce papers were finalized.

warnings/content: written in third pov. angsty fluff(?) — mostly angst. kind of aged up(?). not proofread. cursing (i think). unresolved tension. mentions of pregnancy. reader used to hate kids (lmao).

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 3.4k

a/n: part two — ₊˚ʚ try again ɞ˚₊

fictional characters — dae (jungwon’s boyfriend), min-su (heeseung’s girlfriend), and ji-woo (jake’s girlfriend).

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: broken love by gemini

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

0:48 ───|──────────────── 2:04

y/n’s heart was heavy with the burden of being at his doorstep.

“you got this,” she mumbled to herself, knocking the door with shaky hands.

a happy scream of a child was made, one that she knew at heart. her face lit up at the instant yell, already recognizing that it was no other than her adorable daughter, seo-ji.

“mommy’s here! mommy’s here!” the little kid screamed at the other end.

little shakes of the doorknob were heard before it opened to who she expected; her daughter and of course, her ex-husband, park sunghoon.

she felt her heart slightly shatter at the sight of him, anxiety taking over inch by inch.

“hey y/n,” he awkwardly said. her head nodded in response — “hey sunghoon.”

there was quick tension between them, both truthfully not knowing what to say after coming to terms of the divorce.

they still loved each other, longed for each other in fact.

“mommy!” their baby girl intruded, arms opening wide at the sight of her caretaker.

y/n’s face instantly lit up at her little girl, embracing the sweet hug she offered. “hey princess, how was your day with daddy?” she exclaimed with kisses around her daughter’s cheeks.

seo-ji giggled at the act with an utter — “mommy, stop!!”

the mom smiled at her, noticing her light dimples on display inherited from her father.

“it was good! daddy couldn’t stop talking about you and him though!!”

her sudden callout made y/n look at her ex-husband, finding him in a small blushing state.

“aish seo-ji, you said my secret was safe with you!!” he quickly exclaimed to avert her gaze, hands immediately finding their way to his daughter — tickling her all around.

y/n’s eyes softened at the sight, lips automatically upturning to a sweet smile. she missed this, the feeling of being a happy family.

when the giggles from seo-ji soon drowned out, she ran to go get her stuff from the apartment, leaving the two divorcees alone with each other.

they both quickly became awkward and tense like earlier. their hesitant glances towards one another were evidence that their relationship was on good terms only for their daughter, and perhaps more.

but for the time being, everything and anything was uncomfortable between them.

“so.. heard from jake that you have a date tonight?” y/n suddenly blurted, trying to break the ice.

the male’s head shot up. “hm? oh yeah..,” he paused — “sunoo just set it up for me, and practically begged me to go so…,” his voice weakened at the end with an awkward chuckle spurted out.

she nodded at his reasoning in return— “that’s good..,” she slightly trailed off at the end.

“and you?” he squeaked.

y/n gave a small laugh with a shake on her head. “oh no.. my life revolves around our little girl now. she will always have my full attention.” her eyes shifted from sunghoon to her daughter in the background, hearing the rushed talks from seo-ji as she tried to swiftly gather her belongings.

“she’s my life,” she murmured with a smile she didn’t know she had.

as her gaze stayed on their little girl, sunghoon kept his on her. his eyes sparkled with love that he still had for her — love that had never been resolved.

he missed her and her warmth. just everything about her, really.

but the divorce between them was still fresh, giving them fresh wounds to heal from — wounds that had been cut open from their constant fights and arguments.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ — flashback

“sunghoon, please.” y/n sighed in a groggy expression.

“i’m tired too, can’t you see that? you can’t be the only one acting tired here.” he reverted back with a slight eye roll.

“i’ve been watching her all day, you were barely home.”

“you think i’d rather be out, doing work?” he spat. “i’d much rather stay home with our little girl, but does it look like i have a choice? i’m trying to provide for us.”

the girl groaned. “i’m trying to let seo-ji have a good life, you think that she can do that with only me?”

sunghoon clicked his tongue in annoyance as he slightly walked away. his hands were firmly on his hips as he uttered, “did you not just hear me? i want the best for my daughter too, i want to be there too. you’re the one who gets to be with her, i don’t.”

she sighed at his words, heart breaking down each time she let it ring in her ears. she was glad her baby was staying with min-su and her partner, heeseung for the night. the couple came to pick her up towards the end of the day, giving her and sunghoon a moment to say things.

and with their raised voices and constant arguing, she couldn’t help but feel grateful for them. otherwise, it would’ve woken her sweet girl.

“sunghoon..,”

she watched him roll his watery eyes. “what?” he croaked in a weakened tone, voice cracking with every strength he had to hold back his breakdown.

she didn’t continue, letting his eyes meet hers so they could speak their worries through the dreaded gaze.

“this isn’t working..,”

he sighed at the painful truth. “i know… it’s not.”

the two were sat a few feet away from each other as they came to terms of their situation. constant miscommunication and bottled feelings drifted their relationship apart.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“okay, mommy, ready!” seo-ji yelled, quickly clasping onto her mom’s hands. “bye daddy!”

y/n formed a half smile towards her old lover. “let me know when you’ll pick her up,” she mumbled.

sunghoon gave soft kisses towards his daughter before the two walked away — giving him memories of when he’d kiss his used-to-be girl goodbye whenever she left anywhere.

a faint sigh left his throat as he stumbled back into his apartment.

“i should get ready..,” he said to himself, walking away to his planned outfit.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

“hey baby, what are you doing?” ji-woo sweetly uttered to her friend’s daughter.

“i’m trying to draw you, auntie ji-woo!” seo-ji yelled back.

a few giggles went around as min-su uttered, “ooh! me next!”

“okay! wait! i’m almost done!”

y/n’s little girl beamed an eye smile, causing ji-woo to say — “she has your eyes.”

“yeah, but she has her dad’s cute smile.” y/n responded, letting her gaze linger on seo-ji’s adorned features.

“so.. you heard about sunghoon right?” dae mumbled with a lip bite.

she quickly glanced at jungwon’s boyfriend before looking back at her daughter, who peered her head up at her dad’s name.

“daddy?” seo-ji whispered.

y/n smiled and nodded. “mhm, daddy’s going out with a friend tonight, that’s why you’re with me!” she gave a soft ruffle to her little girl’s wavy hair — inherited from her mom, of course.

“how long will he be gone? i miss him.”

“you miss him? but i’m with you! how could you miss him when mommy is right here?” y/n pouted, hiding her grin.

“your mommy’s sad now, seo-ji! what are you gonna do!” yelled min-su with a slight gasp.

“oh no!” dae beamed.

“noo! i’m sorry!” seo-ji quickly exclaimed, jumping on her feet to comfort her mom. “help me, auntie min-su and uncle dae! ..mommy??” she poked her mom’s arm.

y/n peeked down at her and found her bulged, puppy eyes melting her heart instantly.

“i’m sorry! i like you just as much as i like daddy!”

“like? you don’t.. love?” the mom teased with a plastered grin.

“oh my gosh, your daughter’s trying to apologize to you!” dae chimed in, playfully scoffing.

y/n huffed out mounds of laughter in her stomach before forgiving her empathetic daughter. she tucked a few hair strands behind her ears, placing soft kisses on her forehead while murmuring, “i forgive you, seo-ji. are you hungry?”

the little girl furiously nodded her head as min-su uttered — “me too!” — followed by ji-woo and dae to chime in as well, causing y/n to laugh with a healing heart.

her daughter and her friends were all she needed.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

seo-ji remained in the dining room area, eating with rolled up sleeves and a tied hair done by her mom.

y/n and her three friends were near but stayed closer to the living room, carefully hearing for the little girl just in case something happened.

“she eats just like you,” min-su said with a slight snort.

her words caused a wide chuckle to erupt out of her friend. “seo-ji’s been with me a lot so i wouldn’t be surprised if she ate just like me.” y/n murmured back with her eyes staring at her daughter.

“are you really okay with the whole sunghoon thing though?”

she glanced at ji-woo who said it, but only nodded.

“nothing much i can do about it, he’s moving on.”

her heart tore a little, ripping open another wound in her chest that was barely healing. she didn’t like how every sentence she spewed left a bitter taste in her mouth, but what else could she do?

“i’m really sorry for how things turned out..,” one of her friends sympathetically said to her.

“it’s okay.. my little girl is all i need.” she murmured, glancing at seo-ji who was just about done.

“mommy! i’m done!”

just as y/n was about to get up, ji-woo stood first.

“don’t worry girl, i’ll get her.”

before the mom could protest, her friend had already rushed to seo-ji. a small smile formed on her face, feeling grateful for all three.

“come on, seo-ji, let’s wash your hands!”

“auntie ji-woo, where’s uncle jake? he’s always here.”

the two walked away to the bathroom, giving ji-woo the chance to give her reasoning that no uncles except dae would join for tonight.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

a few hours in, and seo-ji was wrapped in y/n’s arms now.

the little girl was settling into her nap time, eyes closing in an instant with the comforting warmth her mom radiated.

y/n continued to tuck a few wavy hair strands away from her daughter’s face, gaze fixated on every gorgeous feature she inherited from her and sunghoon combined.

“i never thought i’d actually see you become a mom.” ji-woo confirmed with a proud smile.

“we’re proud of you,” dae added in.

“you used to always hate kids, but now here you are, having one of your own in your arms.” min-su softly uttered, careful to not wake her niece.

everyone’s eyes gathered on the little girl who was softly snoring in her sleep.

y/n’s eyes were softened the most.

she did, in fact, hate kids, but she loved and cherished her daughter — her daughter, who she never imagined to have.

“it feels like we’ve seen you grown up,” ji-woo continued her sad talk. “remember when you always told us that you and sunghoon would be the last to have kids out of all of us?”

the four broke out into laughter as they thought back to their years of being in college.

“yeah..,” y/n’s heart sank as she remembered how good her and sunghoon used to be. “we were so sure of ourselves that we’d have kids after you all had yours too. we were so bad with handling kids before we had our little girl.”

she smiled back at the memory before hearing dae intrude — “now look at you, you were the first to have a kid.”

“me and heeseung next,” min-su prompted, causing hushed laughter to fill the air.

y/n beamed a wide grin afterwards, standing up to settle her baby down in the bedroom.

after doing it with ease, she walked back out and found dae specifically sitting where she had told sunghoon she was pregnant.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ — flashback

“gorgeous, what happened??” sunghoon bursted out the door, heavy breaths of air leaving his lungs.

he clenched onto his chest with his eyes sewed shut, desperately gasping for oxygen as his girlfriend stayed sitting on the couch in silence.

“y/n? you okay?” he said in a softer tone. “what’s wrong?”

“sunghoon..,” she whimpered.

her head turned to meet his gaze, and almost immediately, her reddened eyes that were puffed from her tears worried the poor boy.

“hey, hey, why are you crying?” he attempted to comfort, arms immediately bringing her into his embrace.

“hoonie…,” she quietly called again.

sunghoon pulled away with a comforting hand placed on her cheek.

“what’s wrong, pretty?”

“i’m..,” y/n sighed with a heavy heart, feeling a lump in her throat as she uttered, “i’m pregnant.”

the male paused every muscle movement in his body. “w..what? you’re what?” he said in denial.

“i’m pregnant,” she repeated, fingers fidgeting around little picks of skin.

it now added up for sunghoon — all of why she was suddenly moody, why her period was delayed, why she kept talking about feeling sick — the girl he loved was pregnant.

a gasp of air left him as he grinned ear to ear, heart feeling full with the thought of a baby on the way.

“you’re pregnant,” he reiterated with an upbeat tone. “you’re really pregnant.” he quickly stood on his feet before yelping in joy. tears were quick to fill his eyes as he felt like someone who had just won the lottery.

as her boyfriend continued to celebrate, y/n stayed sitting, chewing on her lips in fear.

“sunghoon.. please sit..,”

the boy quickly obliged, though his excitement still seeped through him in every way possible.

slowly, her eyes trailed up to meet his. and almost instantly, her heart fluttered at how handsome he looked — but it shattered within seconds of the news she was gonna deliver to him.

“i don’t know if i want this…,” she cracked out.

“o..oh…,” hoon blinked with a dry throat. “you don’t want to keep the baby?”

y/n quickly shook her head, tears already filling her eyes for the worst outcome.

but his hands placed itself on hers, letting his fingers cling around to reassure while he continued — “it’s your decision, gorgeous, i won’t force you.”

she shot her head up at him, and sunghoon only pushed his lips together to form a confirming smile.

“having a baby with you is what i want, but just not right now. we’re too young, and we’re both barely starting life and-“

her constant blabbering was shut up by a quick peck on the lips from her boyfriend. “we are young, y/n, but this decision is entirely up to you. i want this with you, and i want to be a dad but if you decide that you don’t want to yet, then that’s okay.”

sunghoon’s thumb rubbed little strokes on her crying cheeks as he spoke with his caring eyes.

he wanted the baby, but he wanted y/n more.

“can i think about this first?” she uttered with sparkling eyes.

his thick brows knitted together to convey how she could even question a thing like that. “of course you can, pretty girl. think about it, and let me know.”

the boy placed a sweet and comforting kiss on his girl’s forehead before pulling her into a hug.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

what broke y/n’s heart the most was how the stress of raising a child never bothered to pop into their head until later — when the continuous struggles got to the soon-married couple.

all they wanted was to be a family, and all they wanted was to have their daughter have loving parents who were in a loving relationship.

and of course they had their moments of joy when everything felt perfect for a while.

like when sunghoon would sleep closely next to seo-ji when she was an infant after watching her all day, and his body would be facing toward his baby girl. then y/n would come home, find them softly snoring, and laugh silently to herself when catching onto her baby’s wavy hair contrasting with hoon’s messy hair that fell to the front of his face.

or when seo-ji would wake up in some mornings with a sudden, personal preference on which parent she wanted — it mainly being y/n. and their little girl would cling onto her, making sunghoon pout in return of how his daughter had most of his features but would much rather be with her mom. little complaints would leave his mouth, but he secretly loved to see his small family together.

or, when seo-ji was still one, and sunghoon remained persistent in going ice skating so the three went to an ice rink. their baby would be dressed in warm clothing with mini earmuffs and gloves wrapped around her hands. and hoon would carefully glide the little girl around, letting her get used to the constant slippery surface while y/n personally sat the ice skating out and recorded instead.

or even, when they’d go to gatherings planned by their friends and everyone would instantly go to seo-ji, leaving the exhausted parents to intertwine their hands and watch how much their friends adored their child. little murmurs of — “us next?” would constantly be heard all around while uncle jay would try and snatch her away from everyone else.

nothing could beat those fond memories that were shared upon sunghoon, y/n, and their special little girl, seo-ji.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

a sigh left y/n as she walked to her ex-husband’s apartment. days had gone by since she was last here to pick her daughter up, and now she’s dropping her off once again.

“be good okay? i know daddy probably misses you a lot,” she muttered, hands moving her daughter’s strands of hair.

“mhm! i will!”

a few knocks on the door were made before it creaked open to the handsome man, sunghoon.

“daddy!” seo-ji yelled, quickly detangling her hands from her mom’s to jump into hoon’s arms.

“seo-ji! how’s my little girl?” he left constant kisses around her cheeks, causing little laughter to burst out of her.

y/n beamed a smile at the sight in front of her. she knew they weren’t a family anymore, but it was somewhat healing to know that they could still share loving moments like this.

she heard her old partner yell out in joy, laughing with their daughter and giving wide grins that still secretly lit up her heart.

she still loved him.

“alright, i’m gonna take off, but be good, seo-ji. i’ll come pick you up some time soon, okay?” y/n mumbled.

her baby girl stood with a pout. “you’re leaving already?” she frowned. “you can’t! i don’t want you to! just stay a little longer in daddy’s house.”

y/n immediately chuckled at her daughter’s words. “i have to go, i have to meet auntie ji-woo and them soon.”

seo-ji’s eyes were quickly filled with tears as her bottom lip puffed out. “please mommy..,”

the mom’s heart shattered at her words but she only sighed.

“i’m sorry baby, i’ll come soon though okay?”

her daughter sighed as well before giving a tight hug around her mom.

sunghoon watched his two girls with soft eyes, heart slightly melting at this cherishing memory.

he loved the little things like this when they were still together.

and the one thing that always made him fall in love with y/n even more was how she always mentioned her hatred for kids, but when their daughter came into their life, she immediately loved her with no resentment.

everything about y/n was his weakness and it still showed because —

he still loved her.

“i’ll miss you,” seo-ji muffled through her sobs.

“i’ll miss you too, seo-ji.” y/n pulled away, wiping the tears from her sweet girl as she placed a soft kiss on her cheeks. “have fun with dad though, he misses you a lot too.”

she glanced up to hoon with a half smile. “okay i have to go because if i’m any later, uncle dae will be scolding me! here’s her backpack.”

the girl raised the bag and allowed sunghoon to take it, letting his fingers softly graze against hers.

there was a flicker — a spark, almost, at their little touch.

something was obviously still alive between the two when they glanced up at each other, eyes quickly shifting back and forth with their unresolved tension.

a linger was made present in the air, both not wanting to break the locked gaze but needing to anyway.

y/n walked away after saying one last goodbye to her daughter, feeling heavily burdened at the weighed pressure in her heart; while sunghoon closed the door behind him, mind and heart painfully filled with the memory of his ex-wife, and the mere thought of how much he loved her.

they knew they couldn’t though.

they shouldn’t, for the sake of their daughter, seo-ji.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

a/n: i just wanted to say as well, that i see the requested oneshots in my inbox, and i will try my best to write them! but it may take me a while, so please be patient with me <3 also someone tell me if this oneshot came out okay bc i wrote this at 3am with tired eyes..

[teapartyprincess4two]

Parenthood- M. Sturniolo

pairing: Mom!reader x Dad!Matt

classification: SFW & NSFW headcannons

inspiration: request

warnings: some 18+ content, use of Y/n, established relationship, I didn’t name the children but Matt has a son and a daughter in this 👍🏻

summary: head cannons of dad!Matt.

Parenthood- C. Sturniolo (Chris’s Version)

—

☆SFW

From the moment Matt met you, he knew he wanted you to be the mother of his children. Both of your children were received with so much love and joy, but Matt still had to learn how to navigate being a boy dad and a girl dad.

☆ Your firstborn is a boy and Matt can’t contain the excitement he feels when he first finds out.

☆ He’s overprotective of you throughout the entire pregnancy, ready to take care of your every need.

☆ Your son is hyper, rambunctious, curious and a force to be reckoned with. He barges into the room with so much energy balled up into his small figure that he’s bouncing off the walls.

☆ When your daughter is born, she’s the complete opposite of your son. She’s calm, quiet, and docile.

☆ It takes Matt some time to adjust to having a baby girl, but as soon as he gets in the groove of it he can’t remember what life was like before having a daughter.

☆ Matt’s playing soccer outside with your son, playing pirates, boxing, and building elaborate Lego sets with him.

☆ “No dad! We’re pirates! We have to steal all the gold!” your son explains, adjusting his make-shift eyepatch.

☆ “I thought we were ninjas?!” Matt’s out of breath, running after a fast toddler was extremely tiring.

☆ “No! We just beat the ninjas! They tried sneaking onto the ship, remember?” Your son’s imagination was too fast for Matt to keep up with.

☆ “Argh matey,” Matt replies, ready to continue with the game.

☆ But when your daughter wants attention he’s playing dress up, attending a tea party, getting his nails and makeup done, and talking to all her stuffed animals.

☆ “Daddy Miss Twinkle is mad at you for eating her cookies!” your daughter whispers, almost like she’s gossiping.

☆ Matt has lost track over which stuffed animal is which, but he’s assuming Miss Twinkle is the unicorn across from him.

☆ “I’m sorry Miss Twinkle,” he apologizes, shaking the toy’s hand.

☆ “Dad that was Lady Unicorn. Miss Twinkle is the teddy bear in the pink dress,” your daughter slaps her forehead. “Oops,” he laughs, taking a fake sip of tea.

☆ Matt has learned to be silly, fatherhood softening him and allowing him to abandon all embarrassment.

☆ “What are you wearing?” you laugh, Matt’s serious face adding to the comedy of the situation.

☆ He’s fully decked out in a pizza costume, trying to make your children laugh. “I’m a piece of pizza,” he replies goofily, putting on his best Italian accent.

☆ “You’re so silly daddy,” your son giggles. In his eyes, Matt is the funniest person on the planet.

☆ Your daughter is not as amused, but she smiles nonetheless.

☆ Matt loves doing domestic things with his little family. He’ll randomly pull out a baking sheet, all the ingredients to make cookies, and throw on an apron.

☆ “You’re doing so good, baby,” he coos, watching as your daughter throws an entire, uncracked egg into the mixing bowl. He wasn’t going to use that batch, but the words of encouragement have her smiling.

☆ Children fight all the time, especially when they’re siblings, and your kids are no exception. The year age gap doesn’t help either, so you’ll often find your kids bickering over the smallest things.

☆ “It’s not your turn to play, though!” your son attempts to reason, yanking the controller out of his sisters hands.

☆ “You played all day bozo!” she replies, sticking her tongue out at him.

☆ Matt hears the fight from his room, reluctantly getting up from his comfortable spot on his bed and walking over to where his children are.

☆ “What’s going on?” he asks, arms crossed and a displeased look etched on his face.

☆ “She’s being so annoying, dad!” your son exclaims, and before Matt knows it his kids are pushing, slapping, and punching each other.

☆ “HEY! BEHAVE!” Matt pulls them off of each other, scolding them both without favoritism. He goes on to lecture them about the importance of siblings and doesn’t leave until they hug and make up.

☆ Matt’s entire camera roll is filled with videos and pictures of his kids. Kindergarten ceremonies, family vacations, first haircuts, candid photos; all of it is being documented by Matt at all times.

☆ If he’s ever away from home for a long time, he’s scrolling through his gallery and reminiscing on all his memories with his babies.

☆ Your son is obsessed with video games, something that he and Matt bond over. And although your daughter isn’t as invested, she’s still really good at them.

☆ Mortal Kombat is a game they all play and enjoy together.

☆ “Move over and watch the queen play,” your daughter jokes, taking the controller from Matt after watching him lose time and time again to her brother.

☆ “Yeah, you wish you could beat me,” your son scoffs, readying up for another round.

☆ Your daughter chooses a girly character, which has your son rolling his eyes, but as soon as the round begins he can’t get a single hit in.

☆ Matt is in shock at her level of expertise, she was using combos he didn’t even know about.

☆ “Okay my turn against you, babygirl,” Matt takes the controller from his son, ready to play all night long if he has to.

☆ Having teenagers is hard and tiring, Matt feels like he ages 10 years in just one day with the amount of stress his kids cause him.

☆ Your daughter’s brain is suddenly occupied with nothing but boys and your son is starting to take girls on dates.

☆ “That skirt is too short,” you warn your daughter.

☆ “It is not,” she fights back, genuinely finding nothing wrong with her provocative outfit.

☆ Matt doesn’t have to say anything, one stern look has her trudging back upstairs to change.

☆ “Dad can I borrow the car?” your son asks nervously, avoiding Matt’s eyes at all costs.

☆ “For?” Matt’s not stupid, he knows what teenagers do.

☆ “Nothing, just hanging with some friends,” your son replies, but it doesn’t take long for Matt to get the truth out of him.

☆ Overall, fatherhood has been extremely rewarding for Matt. He sees it in the way his children love and look out for each other and what a great mom you are.

☆ “I love you guys so much,” Matt gushes, pulling the three of you in for a group hug.

☆ “Dad stop being weird,” your son groans, your daughter seconds his statement, but they don’t pull away from the hug.

☆NSFW

Having two children can take up a lot of personal time, especially when your daughter needs you and your son needs Matt. There’s never really any time for you and Matt to just exist as a couple, but he works hard to make sure you feel special everyday.

☆ You’re cooking lunch, the pure domesticity of your actions being enough to turn Matt on.

☆ The kids are still at school and if he’s convincing enough, you’ll abandon whatever’s on the stove and let him please you.

☆ Sneaky arms are wrapping around your waist, rocking you back and forth to the beat of the music that plays lowly in the background.

☆ Matt’s lips find your neck, your head falling back onto his shoulder in pleasure.

☆ Before you know it, you’re bent over the kitchen counter and Matt’s balls deep in you. “Take it,” he grunts, his hands gripping your waist so tight there were sure to be bruises.

☆ The food on the stove burns and you end up ordering pizza.

☆ When the kids are old enough, you and Matt leave them at home alone while you run errands.

☆ Something as simple as a quick trip to the grocery store turns into heated, passionate car sex.

☆ The windows are foggy and the car rocks with each thrust, Matt’s arms wrapped tightly around your waist as you ride him in the front seat.

☆ “You’re so fucking sexy,” he grunts, falling more in love with you as you whimper out his name. It doesn’t take long for him to finish, a string of curse words falling from his lips.

☆ Most times you two just do it in the shower. It’s sweet and full of so much love.

☆ He’ll fuck you against the cold tile wall before scrubbing your back and washing your hair you.

☆ It’s the sweet moments like this that both of you cherish. “I love you so much,” he whispers, the warm water running down both your faces. “I love you too,” you reply with a smile, going in for a passionate kiss.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n: can I hear some commotion for dad Matt🎤

-L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

[bluesidez]

GymRat!Miguel Part 2

content warning: mentions of food because big boys gotta eat, there’s a ref photo for an outfit in here that is unfortunately NOT a plus-size girl 😞 (I couldn’t find a big girl wearing an outfit like that for the life of me, but let’s use our imagination), 18+ towards the end so MDNI!

word count: 1.7k (not very drabble-like, ik) kinda proofread

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who wakes up when his 6 am alarm rings, eyes tired and bleary. His roommate is sound asleep, thank god, and Miguel is just staring at the ceiling for a good 10 minutes before he decides to move. He has an 8 am and he needs some type of breakfast before he heads to class.

GymRat!Miguel who uses the college cafeteria to his full advantage. He made sure that his dad’s money went to the highest meal plan. One free meal plan a day and a loaded campus card for everything else. He stacks his plate high with everything the cafeteria is offering today. Sausages, eggs, 2 bananas, a blueberry muffin, and a protein shake he brought from his room.

GymRat!Miguel who made friends with one of the cafeteria ladies, Ms. Beatrice, by the third week of school. She noticed how much he visited the cafeteria and always snuck him an extra treat from the kitchen when she saw him.

“I missed you last Tuesday!” she says, squeezing his shoulder when she walks up to his table. She slides a wrapped egg sandwich across the table. “I was saving some extra cookies for you, but you were nowhere to be found.”

Miguel thanks her, happy to have something light for later, “Ah, I was stuck in the library doing a group project. Sorry about that, Ms. Beatrice.”

“As long as you’re getting your education, I don’t mind,” she says, hands on her hips. “Don’t go out there skipping class now, ok?”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Miguel says, waving her goodbye. His mom would kill him if that ever happened. Not that he would tell her, she just had a sixth sense for his “fuck-ups.”

GymRat!Miguel who makes it to his class fifteen minutes early to arrange his part of his desk to his liking. Sometimes he feels so embarrassed when he needs to grab something in the middle of class, his ears hyperfocusing on every little noise he makes in quiet, crowded areas. He always makes sure to get out his laptop, a pen, a pencil, a highlighter, a notebook, some white-out, and a water jug. He prefers to be over-prepared.

GymRat!Miguel who’s feeling anxious when the sorority girls pass by his table, giggling and twirling their hair. They attempt to make conversation with him, speaking ill of the professor. He just nods along for the sake of being a gentleman. He thought the professor’s Millennial attempts at Gen Z jokes were kind of funny, albeit very 2010. He didn’t have the heart to tell them he actually enjoyed the lectures.

GymRat!Miguel who’s never been more excited for a lecture to start in his life. He didn’t know many more “wow”’s snd “that’s crazy”’s he had left in him. The noise of the ice hitting their plastic coffee cups as they struggled to get every drop out was starting to grate against his ears. He missed you and your sticker-covered water bottle. He looked over at his jug and smiled when he saw the ‘Game Over’ sticker you gifted him before the last lab. You noticed his joystick keychain and felt that his water bottle was empty.

GymRat!Miguel who declines the girls’ offer to join them on a morning jog after. He liked to work out in solitude and morning jogs with them would mean conversation. He would also have to be extra conscious about what he wore. No older lady walking her dog needed to spot him jogging with shorts that were too short for his own good and a tank top cut so deep that it was like string on his chest.

GymRat!Miguel who decides to head to the library in between class to kill time. He figured he can see if there are any science fiction he can check out to read in his free time. As he walks there, he opens Instagram to scroll. No, he has not been checking the app since this morning to see if you let him in, he’s not a freak. He stops walking when he checks his notifs to see that you accepted his follow request. He wastes no time to click your page again and is bombarded with tons of photos.

GymRat!Miguel who has to close the app immediately when he sees your first photo. It's a picture of you outside of a restaurant in a knitted two-piece. The top is open just a bit to see your chest and the long skirt is low enough to see a part of your stomach peeking through. Your smile is radiant and the caption is something about congratulating someone. You look delectable and Miguel can’t afford to run back to his dorm to let his mind wander over it right now.

GymRat!Miguel who gets another notification as he steps into his dorm room after his last class of the day and sees that you’ve liked and commented on his most recent post. It’s a mirror picture of him flexing his arm after his last work out. His shorts are riding high on his thighs and the curve of his ass is very noticeable. Gabriel had blew up his phone with voice memos of him cackling after he posted it.

“Looking good!! 🫣 Get those gains Miguel! 💪🏾”

Miguel runs a victory lap in his dorm room, thankful that his roommate wouldn’t be back until that night. He’s jumping and punching the air excitedly as if he were a boxer. If he wasn’t fearful of busting his ass, he’d do a backflip. Take that, Gabri.

GymRat!Miguel who decides to go back to your account, running on the hype of that one compliment from you. He stares at that first photo again, still mesmerized as if he didn’t see it earlier. He gives a like and starts typing.

“Wow…”

No, that’s corny.

“Loving the blue…”

Is he a frat guy?

“You look stunning”

Was that too much? He decides to add on a heart eyes emoji, afraid he might be coming on too strong.

GymRat!Miguel who goes a little further down your page. There’s a photo of you in a crochet cover up, your swimsuit peaking through the material. He groans as he slides to the next picture and the top of your cover up is off and it’s just a view of your back with your bikini string wrapped around it. Your lower half is in the water and if he can imagine it just enough, he can feel himself right behind you, taking in the view of your ass against him.

He’s hard. Again.

He decides to just let everything hang while he has the dorm to himself. His boxers are to his ankles as he sits on the bed, back against the wall. He keeps staring at your swimsuit pictures. Your breasts pushed together while you lean over the boat. Your hips swaying in a clip of you dancing with your friends. Your stomach on display as you lay in the sand, ready for him to squeeze.

He grit his teeth as he played the clips over and over again, his hand moving fast to bring him his relief. He closed his eyes and imagined he was there, watching you swaying before him. He would join you, grab your hips and let you guide him in the dance. He felt faint as he let go, voice shouting and white splattered across his shirt and fist.

He breathes fast, trying to calm down. He decides to like the photo dump and comment some aimless beach emojis under the post. It was the least he could do after using it to get off. How embarrassing.

GymRat!Miguel who jumps when his phone dings again. He was prepping to go to the gym when your response comes flying to his phone. His heart picks up when he sees you replied to his comment.

“That is so sweet of you to say! 🥺 Thank you 🥰”

He doesn’t know if you took it as a friendly gesture or a sign that he wanted you. Either way, he’s over the moon. There’s a pep in his step as he blasts Super Shy in his ears on the way to the gym. He had a new motivation to push harder in his sets.

GymRat!Miguel who tacks on 10 extra pounds during his arm workout. The guys in the gym are eyeing him in wonder and horror as he uses the 70lb weights for tricep extensions. He thinks of seeing you in lab later that week and decides to do some hip thrusts.

He can never be over-prepared.

GymRat!Miguel who decides to take a picture at the end of his work out to post on his story. He’s sweating, hair dripping towards the ends, his chest glistening. The angle is awkward as he moves the camera below him and flexes an arm for the picture. The story was meant for one girl and one girl only, so he didn’t really care how silly it looked to others.

GymRat!Miguel who almost fist pumps on the walk home when you like his story and leave a reply. He checks the private messages, grin on his face before he even reads what you have to say.

“Looks like you had a nice workout. I might have to join you next time and get some tips 🤔”

Miguel swiped the app up and texted Gabriel:

“Don’t ever question my game again”

"? Wtf are you talking about"

Miguel opened up his messages with you again and replied to text him whenever and he’d be happy to help.

GymRat!Miguel who winds down for the night, scrolling on his phone before he closes his eyes. Of course you posted a story and of course he pressed it within record speed.

It was a photo of you laying down all bundled up with a cute ‘good night’ gif moving across the bottom. You had on a spaghetti strap tank top and if your blanket wasn’t in the way, he’s sure he would see more than that.

You looked soft, adorable, kissable.

He liked the story and responded back a “good night” and closed his phone. He wanted you to visit him in his dreams once more.

dividers by: @gigittamic 🩵

a/n: tumblr mobile kept deleting full paragraphs of my draft. not happy about that because I kept losing my flow. 😒 it happened like THREE TIMES 😭

Thanks for reading! Like, comment, reblog, and tell me how you feel! 🩵

Wanna be added to the taglist for GymRat!Miguel? Comment and let me know. 🤗 (PLEASE HAVE YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIO. This series has been and will get even more NSFW!)

taglist: @ghost-lantern 🫶🏾🥺

[shotmrmiller]

soulmate au part 1

john price x f!reader

wc: 1.2k

unedited, forgive my mistakes.

since you were born, your world has been grey. you never thought anything of it, until at school, they started teaching you colours. the only ones in the room that could see more than just different shades of grey, apart from the teacher, were identical twins.

weird.

you went home and asked your parents.

"we are born missing half of ourselves. we have a fated one, and when you meet them, your world will look the way it was meant to."

oh. but... "in class, there were twins that could see colour. what about them?"

they look surprised for a second until your dad softly explains. "in rare instances, the soulmate bond will be platonic. which makes sense in this case, because twins grow up with a connection regular people like us will never understand."

you nod and lower your gaze to look at your shoes. you wonder if the person meant for you is interested in junie b. jones books like you are.

-

in high school, you crush on this pretty girl— a cheerleader. her hair is long and beautiful, her face is small and round, and she's so kind. just your type.

but no colour stains your vision, so you burrow your emotions deep and mourn the loss of what could've been.

-

in college, one of your friends ask you if you've met your soulmate yet.

"no, not yet," you lament. what she says after freezes the blood in your veins.

"my mom knew someone whose soulmate was already dead before they had even been born," she comments while stabbing a grape tomato with her fork. "it was really tragic, because she'll never know what it's like to know a love that has no equal."

your heart is in your throat, and you find it hard to swallow the food in your mouth.

what if your soulmate is already dead? oh, god. you might just throw up. your friend doesn't seem to notice the change in your demeanor and continues to babble carelessly about how she knew someone that knew someone who's soulmate had turned out to be a murderer.

oh my fucking god.

you quickly run to the bathroom and throw up your lunch.

how cruel is the universe? to have no control over who is meant to be for you.

you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and lean against the stall of the bathroom. you should've known that this soulmate business was too good to be true.

cupping your hands, you rinse the taste of bile out of your mouth before walking back to your friend who stayed in her seat.

"jesus, you look terrible, you alright?" she asks.

running your fingers through your hair, you huff. "i've certainly been better. just got a bit nauseous, nothing serious. maybe it's a stomach bug."

"oooh, you better not be pregnant! what of your dreams of working in the medical field?"

you giggle at her response. "that'd be impossible unless i'm the virgin mary."

she gapes comically then leans in and whispers, "you're lying! don't tell me you haven't dated anyone just because they weren't your soulmate."

you shrug, and keep your eyes fixed on your half-eaten plate of food. "i don't really wanna talk about it, if that's alright with you. besides, you've got bigger things to worry about, like the upcoming exam for mr. richardson."

slapping a hand to her forehead, she exclaims, "oh, shit! i totally forgot! shit!"

you watch her inhale the rest of her salad and toss her trash before waving goodbye and sprinting toward the library.

with a sigh, you look down at your food. grey. lifeless. shaking your head, you pick up your plate and toss it in the bin.

you decide to focus solely on your studies. you have dreams of being a doctor and pining after someone you haven't even met yet would only serve as a distraction.

--

your white coat grazes your calves as you walk toward your new patient. standing outside the room, you pick up the clipboard.

Price, John. 34, Active Military.

he's the head of the task force! god, you've only heard stories of them from the other medics on base who have met them, so to finally come face to face with the man, the myth, the legend? you wipe your clammy hands on the fabric of your scrubs and clear your throat.

be professional, be professional. he's just another patient, it's no big deal.

rapping your knuckles on the door, you wait a second before twisting the knob with a shaky hand. you nervously keep your eyes on the clipboard as you walk in.

"good morning, captain price."

"mornin', doc," he rumbles.

oh, his deep voice just might be the end of you.

"you don't sound all that happy to be here, captain," you tease while flipping through his medical history papers.

he lets out a low chuckle, and you squeeze your thighs together at the sound. delicious.

"nothin' personal, doc. just don't like bein' here, you understand."

lightly laughing at his joke, you finally steel your nerves and look up at him.

only to have your vision bleed in something you don't understand. is that colour? is this what colour looks like?

the clipboard drops, clattering to the floor. john— being the courteous gentleman that he is— quickly kneels to grab it and lifts his head as he hands it to you.

he freezes in place, the clipboard slipping from his hands as he stares at you.

you thickly swallow, and dumbly question, "do you...has your....colour? can you see colour?"

unblinking, john's eyes are fixated on you as he remains silent.

your eyes dart around to take in his features. his brightly-coloured eyes are framed by lines that hint at his age, his strong jaw adorned by a mutton-chop beard. his nose is specked with a beauty mark.

"what colour are your eyes, captain?" you softly ask.

he closes his mouth and takes in a sharp breath. "i've been told they're blue."

"blue," you smile. the eyes of your soulmate are blue.

but then, your delighted smile melts off your face, in horror.

there's a shiny band on his finger. he's married.

john price, your soulmate, is fucking married.

your vision distorts with the tears that threaten to spill and bite your bottom lip to stop it from trembling. it feels like there are shards of glass in your lungs, cutting you open with each quivering breath you take. your pain is red-hot, searing under your skin, flowing through your veins like molten lead.

john knows exactly what you're looking at.

"love—" he starts but you cut him off swiftly.

"don't. you don't owe me anything, captain. uhm, but uh... maybe it's best that we switch your doctors, yeah? conflict of interest, and all that."

you all but run away, away from that room, from him.

how terribly unlucky.

you head towards your office, which is down the hall, and slam the door closed. only then, do you cry, and mourn what should've been.

[kaciebello]

Offspring garden

Masterlist Luke Castellan x Demetre! reader (fem) Summary: Luke and the reader are the unofficial parents of the camp, whether they like it or not. Warning: Non, no use of y/n author note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ ) Requested! word count: 1.2k

“LUKE CASTELLAN” A yell could be heard throughout the whole camp. The boy in question lifts his head from his sword to look for the source of the noise. Only to see a familiar girl with an angry scold on her face. He stands up when he sees her, dragging two familiar boys behind her. He just signs and makes his way to them.

“Hello, honey.” He says, hoping to de-escalate the situation. She just huffs and points a finger at him before turning to the two boys who were now looking at the floor in shame.

“Don't you even dare to sweet talk me, Luke?” To him this was comical. The Stroll brothers often did something they shouldn't, they however did not get caught that much. No, seeing them being scolded by a girl who’s just a few years older was funny. She resembled a mom giving a lecture to her children She turned to him again.

“Keep your siblings in check, because if I catch them again in my garden-”

“You're gonna what?” Luke says, coking his head to the side with a smile.  Her eyes narrow at him as she steps closer. The boys yelp out a little ‘ sorry, mom’ teasing tone in their voice, as everybody noticed some of the younger kids calling her that by accident during the campfire last night. She ignores them and takes our step to Luke. He secretly waves his arm at the boys and they scatter away as quietly as they can, although few giggles leave them anyway.

“Don't try me today Luke, we have so much to do and I don't have the time or the patience for this. And you, you are- Luke where have they gone?” She says her eyes flipping between him and the place where the boys were standing a minute ago. Luke just shrugs and smiles. The girl sighs placing her shaking her head.

“You can’t just let them go, I brought them here for a reason.” She says kicking a stone with her foot. Luke took her hands in his, wrapping them around his neck. Now that he had her undivided attention he rocked them back and forth.

“They're just kids.”

“Cheeky, that's what they are.” Luke just laughs. Leaning in, their noses brush on each other. Before Luke could continue, a pair of giggles were heard before the water fell on them from the top of the Hermes cabin. In shock, the pair steps away from each other and look up. There they were, the Stroll brothers, with two buckets of water having the time of their life.

“LUKE!” He's not sure he can get them out of this one.

—

Being the counselor of their cabin did give them an advantage. Granted, it was more work than the normal ‘training to be a hero ‘ thing. The older campers however did not mind, because it meant they got to call light out. Now the Demeter cabin went to sleep almost as soon as the sun set, not fans of the dark. The Hermise cabin, however, is quite the opposite. If they had to pick they would switch the whole camp to night one. 

However, it was not unusual to see the Demetre cabin counselor at the Hermes cabin after she called light out on her own. Not that Luke was having a problem with his cabin, no. Well kinda, it's always hard for the new kids, and he and his siblings are more mischief than anything else. The friendly face of the Demetre kids makes them calm down and fall asleep despite the noise.

He was leaning on the doorframe, his eyes glued to the girl reading kids' stories. He was supposed to keep an eye on his siblings. That was their deal. But he only started to pay attention to them when a shirt was thrown in his face. Taking it down and looking up to try and find a culprit, he finds Chris with a smirk on his face. Luke just rolls his eyes and throws it back. Making his was the girl who was tucking in the last camper. His hand lands on the small of her back as she straightens.

“ All done?” He whispers although it is useless when he hears his sibling laugh at full volume. The girl looks up at him and nods. Turning and making her way to the cabin door. Luke follows her very close by.

“Will you walk me back?” She asks, playing with his bracelets. 

“Why? Scared of the dark?” He cocks his head to the side. Only receiving a glare from the girl. Before she can answer one of the Hermes girls pipes in.

“You have the same conversation every night, You are boring as an old married couple with kids.” She says before letting her head hit the pillow. Both Luke and the girl look at her. The Demeter girl shakes it off before he does. Letting off his hand and clearing her throat.

“Alright, that is enghou, lights out!” She said, making sure everyone could hear her. Some kids listened right away and some hesitated before laying down too.

“But you not our-”

“I SAID LIGHTS OUT.” The light switch was flipped to the end she said. All that could be heard was the cabin door opening and closing, indicating that the two counsellors had left on their adventure.

—

They were both sitting on the floor. Her back was pressed to his chest as she sat between his legs. Watching Annabeth, Percy and Grover fool around the arena. Luke insisted they needed training, although he was not teaching them anything. The girl opted to read her book, as this is as quiet as it gets around the busy camp.

“What do you say we go on an adventure next summer,” Luke says catching her attention enough to listen but not enough to put away her book.

“Chiron is not letting us go on a quest Luke.” She says nonchalantly. Luke just shakes his head and his hand goes to play with the corner of the book.

“No, I meant like, go and have a trip, Europe maybe.” He finishes and the girl chuckles. Turning over a page before finishing her chapter. Make sure she places a bookmark before closing the book and putting it aside. She leans even further onto him before answering.

“ As if Mr. D is gonna let us leave. We basically run the camp for him.” She says and Luke laughs. His arm now resting across her chest, both watching the trio who were playing some kind of game. It looks like a twisted version of Marko Pollo as Annabeth kept going invisible to confuse Percy even more. Luke leans down and kisses the girl on the forehead. She looks up at him with a smile before reaching to pat his head and tug at the base of his curls.

In bliss they sat, soaking in the sun. A quiet day where they get to be teenagers. All, however, comes to an end when someone yells out ‘Mom’ and all heads turn to her. The girl can just groan before getting up and following the sound. Flowers blooming in her hair out of frustration. Luke does not stay that far behind