#and it’s like deciding to date him opened my eyes to other possibilities and I’m like Hope what is happening

[https-lvesick]

♡ ⭑.ᐟ 엔시티 드림 . . "merry christmas, loverboy!"

scenario . . ♡ you’ve been bragging about your christmas gift for the whole month and, even though your boyfriend had been arguing you couldn’t beat his gift for you, he was curious, after all, you were talking too much. he didn’t expect you to tell the truth. it’s the first christmas eve you’ve spent alone since you started dating, a few months ago, so you decided to prepare something memorable. he found you lying on the bed, completely naked, well, not completely since you had a big red ribbon around your breasts, offering yourself as the special gift.

content . . 𝜗𝜚 boyfriend!dream x fem!reader, first time as a couple! [mk] protected sex, praising, squirting, kinda rough sex, mark is lowkey a beast ♡ [rj] protected sex (in my mind), praising, breast play, renjun is a whiny sub ♡ [jn] unprotected sex, virgin!reader, big dick!jeno, power play, cervix fucking, creampie, jeno it’s too good for this world ♡ [hc] fingering, messy sex, mention of squirting, mirror sex, haechan is a bit of a perv and kinda mean (but wbk) ♡ [jm] fingering, cunnilingus, praising, jaemin is a softie and… kinda pussydrunk ♡ [cl] unprotected sex, implied breeding kink, mentions of children (as next christmas’ gift), GIVE THIS MAN A KID Y’ALL, chenle is completely obsessed ♡ [js] unprotected sex, creampie, clothed blowjob (?), slight size kink, jisung is needy

lola's notes .: oh, haii >.< i’m kinda back yippie! i’ve been facing terrible writer’s block that is eating me alive and i’ve been kinda… depressed bc writing is literally my favourite thing to do, (stardew valley, close your eyes) so it’s being hard for me… anyways, dropping this hc (which i didn’t know i could write on time) so you can enjoy it while i’m away! also, i’m closing requests for now :( i have like 8 in line and, as i said, i can’t write now, but i’ll do it as soon as possible. i have some other projects to do, so idk when i’ll open it again… well, that’s it, enjoy your holidays, my adorable “lola lovers” (you’ve been named by @lyvhie btw) and merry christmas! love y’all <3 (and wtf are these content warnings 😭😭)

Mark

as soon as he stepped into the bedroom, his mouth fell open. he opened and closed it several times while you giggled, watching your boyfriend freeze in the doorframe. he didn't know how to react. though he wanted to touch you, his mind wouldn't let him — not until you gave verbal permission, even though you were literally offering yourself to him. mark stood there smiling awkwardly, trying to hide his obvious arousal. but when you walked toward him, touching his arms and whispering sweet words, he melted. you peppered his face with kisses, running your hands over his body just as you'd imagined.

you gripped the bedsheets so tightly you thought they might tear. you knew your boyfriend had strong hips — he was a dancer, after all — but you hadn't imagined they were this powerful. mark had your face down, hips raised, completely lost in pleasure. he barely let you catch your breath between positions. you'd already reached one orgasm, and he was driving you toward another.

"fu-fuck, baby, slow down..." you murmured, feeling another climax building. you were already weak, but mark kept going round after round like he couldn't stop himself. his skills were undeniable as his hips snapped against yours in sharp, quick thrusts, hitting all the right spots inside you. your eyes rolled back as you drooled, completely undone, but he loved seeing you like this — pleasure-drunk and utterly satisfied.

"c-can't..." he gasped, sucking in a breath when you clenched around him. "been waiting for you my whole life. i can't stop, baby, i'm sorry." his voice was weak, matching his expression. mark truly couldn't control himself, his body moving on its own. "so pretty, baby... so pretty..." he murmured, gripping your flesh. you managed a faint smile at his praise.

one hand maintained its tight grip on your ass while the other traced down your spine, his touch ghosting over your skin before grabbing your hair and pulling you to him. his lips pressed soft kisses and bites to your shoulder as you reached back to hook your arm around his neck. mark buried his face in your neck, whimpering as he picked up his pace once again.

when your fourth orgasm hit, your breath caught, and suddenly you felt something warm and liquid beneath you.

"did you just... squirt?" mark asked, staring in awe with a goofy smile. "shit, this was so fucking hot." he kept talking, but you couldn't process his words, too exhausted to focus. he removed the full condom, disposing of it in the bathroom before returning to you. "let me clean this mess so we can enjoy a romantic christmas eve." he chuckled at your incoherent mumbling.

Renjun

he wasn't proud of his previous actions, but he had glimpsed you naked once or twice... It was an accident — or maybe he had peeked while you were changing. but seeing you fully naked for him now was simply mind-blowing. though he had a mental list of everything he wanted to do with you when the time finally came, he couldn't move. he was too stunned. when your smile began turning into a worried frown, he snapped out of it, walking toward you to cup your face and kiss you passionately.

jun had always shown you his strong and confident side. you never needed to worry — he was there, your super-boyfriend, ready to handle all your concerns. even though he looked small and fragile, he never let that affect your perception of him.

having him underneath you was heavenly. his big round eyes looked at you — especially your breasts bouncing right in his face — like you were the most precious thing in the world. whines escaped his plump lips whenever you rode him too fast or clenched too hard around him. it was all overwhelmingly satisfying and delicious; you wouldn’t want it any other way. turns out his gift was indeed better than yours.

he played with your breasts, squeezing the flesh, pinching and twisting your nipples, even licking his lips, eager to taste them. so you ended his torture. you bent closer and smiled gently at him. "go ahead, love." as soon as the words left your mouth, he took you in. renjun hollowed his cheeks, suckling your nipple, twirling his tongue around the mound, making you gasp when he nibbled it.

your hips rolled lazily on top of his, but his teasing made you pick up your pace. you placed your hands on either side of his head for support and soon you were riding him exactly how you wanted. you lifted your hips until just his tip remained inside, then slammed back down. renjun's whines were muffled by the flesh in his mouth, his eyes rolling back. a heavenly sight.

"jun... baby... i'm—fuck—close..." you whispered, biting your lower lip. he nodded vigorously, gripping your hips, thrusting back into you at a desperate pace until you were the one rolling your eyes back.

as you reached your high, you nestled your face in his neck, breathing heavily, still clenching around him, still hearing his whines. minutes later, his arms caged you as he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder and whispered sweetly in your ear, "merry christmas, my love."

Jeno

he wasn’t surprised to see you like this — offered to him so openly. he’d seen you like this once before, back when you tried to seduce him for the first time. back then, he’d gently rejected you, saying it was too soon. he wanted you to be certain, especially since it was your first time. but now, as you lay before him, beautifully confident and presenting yourself to him on christmas eve, he couldn’t resist. not this time. you looked so sure, so ready to give him everything.

a soft gasp escaped your lips, a sound that sent a jolt straight to his core. jeno was slowly sheathing himself into you, mindful of every inch, giving you time to adjust to his size. your hands clawed at his back, drawing a hiss from him, though the sting was nothing compared to the intoxicating grip your pussy had on him.

“is it okay?” he asked, his voice gentle as he kissed your face. “i can stop if it’s too much.” he nuzzled his nose against your neck, breathing in your scent. “love, if it hurts too much, we can try another day.”

“jeno, babe, please, shut the fuck up.” you replied, eyes squeezed shut. “it is hurting a bit, but that’s fine. i mean, have you seen your size?” he chuckled softly, continuing to pepper your face with kisses, hoping they’d ease the discomfort. “just… move slowly, yeah?” you added, and he nodded, doing exactly as you asked.

his thrusts were slow and deliberate, each movement filled with care. jeno wanted this moment to be perfect for you, something you’d remember with a smile — or maybe something that would leave you aching for him whenever the memory crossed your mind. he wanted to mark you, to make sure no one else could ever compare. you were his.

when the initial pain faded, you urged him to move faster, to stop holding back. and he obeyed — because how could he ever deny his woman? his first move was to pin your wrists above your head, holding you firmly but tenderly in place. he loved the marks your nails left on him, but right now, he wanted to see you fully. vulnerable. exposed. his.

the shift in pace was overwhelming. he fucked you with a fervour you hadn’t expected, every thrust hitting deep, brushing against spots inside you that made your mind go blank. you were soaking, your wetness easing his way into you as his cock found its rhythm, pressing against your cervix over and over. the sensations left you moaning, eyes rolling back, utterly lost in him. jeno — usually so gentle and soft — was showing you a side of him you hadn’t known existed, and you loved every second of it.

when he finally came, filling you with his warmth, your body reacted instinctively. your toes curled, your back arched, and his name fell from your lips in a chant. he relished the sound, savouring every moan as if it were a symphony written just for him.

his chuckle broke the haze, followed by a cheeky question: “do we get more gifts on new year’s eve?” you frowned, opening your eyes to meet his gaze. there he was — your mesmerizing boyfriend, sweaty and glowing, with a grin that could light up the world. he traced his hands down your sides, leaning in close to whisper against your lips, “merry christmas…”

Haechan

you were already his goddess — his perfect little girlfriend whom he'd do anything for. he loved you more than himself and respected you like you were his owner (and you were), but he couldn't help wanting more. he wanted to touch your body and do even more things to you, and you knew that — haechan isn't exactly subtle about his thoughts or cravings. that's why you happily decided to give yourself as his gift. when he saw you naked, he moaned involuntarily, so genuine that you couldn't help but giggle. he tried to hide his growing boner, but it was useless, especially because you were smiling at him with that warm, sexy smile of yours that made him kneel immediately. he licked his lips and took off his shirt, ready to enjoy the best gift anyone could've given him in 24 years.

it was raw, messy, and definitely dirty. haechan was a perverted motherfucker with thousands of fantasies — you knew that — but having sex with him took things to another level.

he was always suggesting beach dates or pool days at his house because he wanted to see you in a swimsuit, or suggesting showering together — "jokingly," according to him— to save water. you caught his hints, obviously, and it just fueled you to tease him more. but now that he had the chance, he wouldn't let it go to waste.

he had you completely open for him, your legs spread — caged by his own — in front of the mirror. the sheets were drenched, as was his face, and you were already drooling, babbling something haechan couldn't care less about. he was too focused on your dripping core, which made obscene noises every time his palm connected with it. your grip was so tight on his thigh that your fingerprints marked his flesh.

"you didn't know what you were getting yourself into, baby..." he grinned, watching your dishevelled reflection. your eyes faltered for a moment, making you close them, and haechan stopped, making you whine. "nuh-uh, what did i say? keep your eyes on the fucking mirror and i keep going." he held your jaw, making you open your eyes and look at yourself. the shame had long since vanished, replaced by pure, raw pleasure and inhibition.

"but... it's too much, hyeok..." you whined, trying to catch his hand on your jaw, but it was futile. you could see his mocking grin.

"yeah? too much? then i should stop, huh? i don't wanna hurt my queen." as soon as the words left his lips, your eyes widened and a single tear rolled down your cheek in desperation. he'd been edging you for the past two hours, filling you with promises of making you feel good, satisfied, and giving you as many orgasms as you wanted — and he did, once. haechan made you squirt the first time and then... left you high and dry, begging for more. this wasn't how you'd imagined your christmas eve to be going.

"chan, please..." you whimpered, feeling his fingers circling your clit. "let me—cum..." you gulped before letting out a stream of pleas. when you felt his lips pressing softly against yours, you knew he'd finally let you release.

"now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" your moans grew louder when he inserted three fingers without warning, moving at a quick pace, curling inside you. "let it go, baby, give me another one. be a good girl and give me another one."

Jaemin

right, okay, you caught him. no handmade or expensive gift could beat yours. he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, admiring the stunning view before him. his smirk wouldn't fade as he walked toward you, ready to unwrap his gift. he wanted this to be the night of your life. fuck christmas at this point — you were his special event, and he would make it unforgettable.

"nana..." you whimpered, feeling your orgasm building. your boyfriend didn't hear, still devouring you like a starved man.

you'd been in this position for almost an hour now, lying in bed while Jaemin had his face buried between your thighs. before that, he'd explored your whole body with his hands, lips, and tongue. every inch of you had been kissed, licked, and nibbled. he made sure you felt special and loved — because you are.

"just one more, baby... i can't get enough of you..." he growled before diving in again. you gripped his hair, moaning loudly when he slipped two fingers inside you, fucking you while sucking on your clit.

jaemin wasn't even fully naked yet, still wearing his pants, having only removed his shirt because you'd begged. you needed to see him, to mark him. and there he was — your masterpiece, your gorgeous boyfriend covered in hickeys and love bites, just as he'd done to you. but you wanted more. you wanted to touch him, feel him, give him the same pleasure he was giving you — even more — but he wouldn't let you. not now. he was just too drunk in you to let you move.

just as he'd learned everything about you, he knew you were close — he'd seen the signs twice before — so he worked to overwhelm your senses. you came, releasing into his mouth once again, gripping his hair and chanting his name. he licked you clean before rising to hover over you, kissing your lips and letting you taste yourself.

"can my baby handle more?" he smirked. "i still have plenty of ideas to make this christmas eve unforgettable." he wiggled his eyebrows, making you laugh and playfully slap his arm. soon he crawled off the bed, stripping off his remaining clothes. you glanced at him, noticing a darker spot on his boxers. "yeah... i might have cum just from tasting you..." you scoffed. "what? you're absolutely fucking delicious, baby. how could i not when i had my face buried in fucking heaven?"

Chenle

fuck. you had just broken him. he’d lost count of how many wet dreams he’d had about you, how many nights he’d jerked off thinking about your scent, your taste. and god, he hated it. he had you. he didn’t need to fuck his fist like some desperate, virgin high schooler. but he couldn’t bring himself to rush you, couldn’t risk making you feel forced. so he waited. and now, this moment? it was everything. it didn’t take much for him to lose control, pouncing on you like a man starved.

from the very beginning — from the day you slapped his face — he knew you were it. his perfect girl. the one he’d love until the end of time, marry, have kids with, and spend forever building a life alongside. it was always you.

and now, having you like this — sprawled out on the bed, back arched, skin glistening with sweat, lips parted as the sweetest, most intoxicating sounds spilled from them — he felt like the luckiest man alive. he was making you his, satisfying you in every way a real man should — your man should.

your legs were wrapped tightly around his waist as he thrust into you with an almost desperate pace. yeah, chenle had imagined making slow, tender love to you, but his urgency wouldn’t allow it. he needed to feel you, to claim you, to pour everything he had into you.

“ch—chenle, fuck!” you gasped, fingers gripping the bedsheets for dear life. his cock was hitting every perfect spot inside you, and the pressure from his thumb on your clit was enough to drive you mad. why had you waited so long to let him have you like this?

“is it that good, baby?” his teasing voice only made you whine louder. he wasn’t even trying; it was almost unfair how effortlessly he could ruin you. you nodded breathlessly, and he leaned down, biting your lower lip before capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. your arms found their way around his neck, pulling him closer — as if he wasn’t already impossibly close. you were on the edge, desperate to fall over with him.

“don’t pull out, please…” you managed to whisper, your voice shaky as your release took over. your walls clenched around him, and you buried your face in his neck, biting down to muffle the intensity of your orgasm.

“not like i planned to,” he growled, his thrusts growing erratic. just a few more, and he spilled inside you, filling you to the brim as you’d begged him to. even then, he stayed, making sure he gave you everything he had.

“do you think we’ll be celebrating three months of our gift next christmas?” his cheeky tone earned him a playful slap on the back, and you shook your head, laughing softly.

“chenle, it’s too soon for that.” you brushed a hand through his damp hair, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. “but merry christmas, love.”

Jisung

boy would be shocked. he didn't even blink for a full minute. the only sign he was "alive" besides his breathing was his quickly growing tent. he didn't notice his body's reaction until you touched him. he whined softly, letting you take control and lead him however you wanted. but when he realized he could fully enjoy his gift, something snapped inside him.

you had been teasing him from the start — whispering sweet nothings in his ear, touching all his sensitive spots, guiding his large hands over your body to untie the ribbon around your chest. when you were fully exposed to him, his hands engulfed your breasts, squeezing them as he prepared to taste them, until you stopped him.

he whined, frowning as he watched you sink to your knees, running your hands along his thighs. "darling, what are you doing, let me—fuck..." the words died on his tongue when you wrapped your pretty lips around him through his boxers. it was the hottest sight he'd ever seen of you, and he was losing control.

you teased him with your tongue while squeezing him, maintaining eye contact as he pleaded for more. you could feel him throbbing against your tongue as he whispered his desperate pleas. he felt ready to burst without proper stimulation. he was begging for it — begging for you. but you weren't ready to give in just yet.

that led to your current position — bent in half, completely exposed, with jisung's tall frame hovering over you as he moved frantically. the thin chain around his neck swayed with each thrust, brushing against your face.

"fuck—sorry, love. am i hurting you?" he whimpered. you managed a faint "no." taking that as encouragement, jisung sat up, lifted your hips, and continued his movements while stimulating your sensitive spot.

you were so aroused that the sounds were obscene and loud enough to make you blush. you'd never been this vulnerable with anyone before, and being this way with your shy boyfriend made you both embarrassed and deeply satisfied. his soft sounds merged with the wet noises, bringing you closer to the edge.

finally, he finished, every muscle in his body relaxing as he let out a satisfied groan, his head falling back. when you opened your eyes, jisung was hovering over you again. "you're so pretty..." he murmured, losing himself in your eyes before adding shyly, "but i finished inside..."

"don't worry. we're safe," you whispered against his lips. "merry christmas, ji."

"merry christmas, my darling," he smiled before kissing you.

did you enjoy your reading? why don’t reblog, like or leave a comment? this way i know you liked what i wrote and surely will keep up with the good content!

masterlist + taglist: @jungaji

[bloody-bee-tea]

24 Days of MHA 2024 Day 21 - Fucking bullshit

Shouta just bundled himself up in his sleeping bag, ready to sleep the break away, with Hizashi’s soft humming in his ear when it knocks on the door to the teacher’s lounge.

Shouta cracks one eye open because with his luck it’s going to be one of his problem children who started the apocalypse or something but he lets Hizashi get up to open the door.

He did not expect Shinsou to be on the other side.

“Hey, kiddo,” Hizashi greets him. “What’s up?”

Shouta watches how Shinsou wrings his hands in front of his chest, how his eyes dart all over the place and he starts extracting himself from the warm cocoon of his sleeping bag. This will not be over quick, even though he never expected Shinsou to be one of his problem kids.

He had hoped that starting out in Gen Ed saved the boy from that particular curse but clearly he was wrong.

“I need your help,” Shinsou finally mutters and Hizashi looks back at Shouta, who waves him in.

“Come here, kid. What is it?” Shouta says, his voice rougher than usual because he was just falling asleep but he’d never send one of his kids away and especially not Shinsou and most certainly not after he so plainly asked for help.

“I—” More hand-wringing, more eyes darting all over the place and Shouta wonders what the kid could have possibly done to be this worried. “I really need your help.”

“And you have it,” Hizashi reassures him because it’s not even a question that they are going to help with whatever it is.

But they need to know what it is, first.

“Tell us what’s going on,” Shouta encourages him and Shinsou takes a deep breath, which does clearly nothing to relax him.

“My foster mother, she’ll be going to the police later to accuse me of using my quirk against her husband. I really—with my quirk, it’s not going to go over well and I really need help.”

There’s a lot to unpack in that short explanation but for now Shouta and Hizashi only share a look before they nod.

“Of course,” Hizashi then says and pats Shinsou’s shoulder.

“Did you?” Shouta asks, because he has to and because the police will, too, but he can admit that the betrayed look Shinsou gives him hurts. “You will be asked that, a lot. So better get used to it now.”

“I didn’t,” Shinsou whispers out, because of course he didn’t, he would never, Shouta knows that but clearly the foster mother has it out for him if she’s going to accuse him of that.

“Why would she think you do?”

“My foster father’s started to act cagey around her so of course I’m the first to be blamed.”

That’s rather disturbing, really, if Shouta thinks too hard about that.

“Do you know why he’s acting like that?” Shouta doesn’t have much hope for an answer here but to his surprise Shinsou nods.

“He thinks I’m stupid and I’m not allowed to talk at home, so he isn’t as careful around me. He’s having an affair.”

More things Shouta files away to inspect at a later date, but it’s really not painting a good picture for Shinsou’s living situation.

“Oh, boy,” Hizashi sighs out. “And I’m guessing if you were to expose that then both of them would accuse you of using your quirk on him,” he mutters, and Shinsou nods.

“I just—when the police sees my quirk they’ll believe her. I know they will because—”

“It happened before,” Shouta finishes for him when Shinsou seems lost for words and he had always wondered about that smirch on his record.

But of course quirk discrimination is still rampant everywhere and Shinsou has already confided in them that he’s been called a villain most of his life. It’s not a stretch to believe the police wrote him off without a proper investigation and purely based on one statement.

“I’m going to call Tsukauchi,” Shouta decides and gets his phone out, trusting Hizashi to explain who that is to Shinsou as he presses the phone to his ear.

“Eraser, please, no more emergencies with your kids. I’m a detective, not a babysitter,” Tsukauchi greets him and Shouta snorts out a laugh.

“Yeah, welcome to my world. I need a favour.”

“Of course you do,” Tsukauchi sighs out. “What is it?”

Shouta briefly explains the situation to Tsukauchi who lets out another deep sigh.

“What’s his address? I’m guessing his mother went to the nearest police station.”

“Foster mother,” Shouta corrects him because no mother would ever do that and then he relays the question to Shinsou.

“I know someone at the station there,” Tsukauchi says once he has Shinsou’s answer. “Let me check with them real quick and I’ll call you back.”

“Tsukauchi, we need you on that case,” Shouta says because with his quirk it’s easy to prove that Shinsou didn’t do anything wrong.

“I know. I will be. I just need to see if the foster mother already stopped by and what exactly it is she’s accusing him of.” He doesn’t give Shouta time to say anything before he hangs up and Shouta doesn’t fight the urge to roll his eyes as he pockets his phone again.

“Tsukauchi is on it. You’ll be just fine, kid,” Shouta says, and Hizashi must have explained who Tsukauchi is because Shinsou bursts into tears.

“Thank you,” he gets out between his sobs and Shouta shuffles closer to awkwardly press his shoulder to Shinsou’s.

He’s not great with physical comfort but when Shinsou leans heavily into him, he guesses he must have done something right.

“I’ll make some tea,” Hizashi softly says and then signs to Shouta ‘And call CPS’.

Shouta nods, because that is not even a question. They will not allow Shinsou to stay with people who clearly have it out for him and what did they even get their foster licenses for if not this?

“You shouldn’t,” Shinsou mutters and Shouta frowns, because of course they need some tea in this situation but then Shinsou pushes away from him. “They will just move me to a group home because there’s no other family that will want to take me after this. I’d rather stay with them.”

Shouta and Hizashi share a surprised look before Hizashi signs ‘You understand sign?’

“I’ve been muzzled for most of my childhood. Had to learn to communicate somehow,” Shinsou says with a shrug as if that isn’t the most devastating news he could have delivered.

“Shinsou, if your foster mother really is going to accuse you of that, there’s no way we’re letting you go back there,” Shouta tries to explain, but all it serves to do is make Shinsou curl in on himself.

“Kiddo, we’re licensed foster parents,” Hizashi cuts in before Shouta can awkwardly fumble his way around anything else. “You’ll have to be moved after this and we just wanted to make sure you’ll be moved to us.”

“You—can do that?” Shinsou breathes out and Hizashi shrugs.

“We’re already pulling strings with Tsukauchi. What’s one more, right?”

Shinsou turns towards Shouta.

“And you’d—want to?”

“Of course we do, kid,” Shouta says and reaches out to ruffle Shinsou’s hair. “If we had known your situation was that bad we would have brought it up earlier, but we thought you were fine in your current home. We didn’t want to barge in where we’re not wanted.”

“I—nothing about that home is fine,” Shinsou mutters and Hizashi huffs out a breath.

“Yeah, we realise that. But no worries, we’ve got you. By the time this is over, you’ll be staying with us.”

Shouta nods but before he can say anything, his phone rings. Tsukauchi is calling back.

“She already came in and gave her statement. I need Shinsou here to take his statement.” Shouta really appreciates Tsukauchi’s brusque nature and he clasps Shinsou’s shoulder.

“We’ll be by in thirty.”

“You have classes,” Shinsou weakly protests but Shouta doesn’t pay him any mind.

“You or me?” he asks Hizashi who looks between Shinsou and Shouta for a moment.

“You,” he then decides and gives Shinsou a smile. “I’ll just make sure everyone knows not to expect either of you back today.” He gives them his horrendous finger guns but Shouta thinks he can excuse it this one time, because it makes Shinsou smile slightly.

“Alright, kid, off we go then,” Shouta says and pushes Shinsou out of the room.

The ride to the police station is silent, though Shouta spots Shinsou wringing his hands in his lap more than once and he wishes he could tell the kid to stop worrying but he knows that’s not in Shinsou’s nature.

He’s a natural worrier, Shouta came to learn that much during their training and he guesses with what he now knows of Shinsou’s living situation and his childhood it’s only understandable that he second guesses his every move.

When they finally arrive at the station, Tsukauchi is already waiting for them.

“Eraser, Shinsou,” he greets them and then leads them into a conference room almost immediately.

Shouta is thankful that it isn’t an interrogation room because that would have only spooked Shinsou more.

“Alright,” Tsukauchi starts once they are all seated. “Shinsou, your foster mother accused you of using your quirk against your foster father, making him change his behaviour around her. Now, I’ll ask you a bunch of questions and with my quirk Lie Detector we’ll quickly verify if any of that is true, alright?”

Shinsou nods, though he’s still tense and Shouta shuffles a bit closer.

If he can provide at least a little comfort like this, he’ll do it.

“I’ll need verbal answers from here on out, because otherwise my quirk doesn’t work, understood?”

“Yes,” Shinsou mutters and Tsukauchi gets out a dictation device.

“We’ll be recording everything and after every answer you give I’ll state if it’s true or not. Like that, there’s really nothing your foster mother can do and the charge against you will be dropped.”

Tsukauchi just rose several ranks higher in Shouta’s regard, because he doesn’t seem to believe that Shinsou did what his foster mother accused him of and for that Shouta is thankful.

“Okay,” Shinsou says and squares his shoulders as if he’s marching off into battle.

Shouta resigns himself for a passive role in this, because he’s here for moral support and nothing else. Hizashi might have been better for this, but there’s nothing to be done about it now.

“Your foster mother accused you of using your quirk against her husband. Are you aware of that?”

“Yes,” Shinsou gives back. “She told me she would this morning when he slipped out without even looking at her.”

“True. Told you?”

Shinsou winces and Shouta just hopes that Hizashi isn’t too busy with classes to call CPS.

“Screamed at me, more like. She threw a glass at me, too.”

“True. Did you get hurt?”

“Shallow cut on my shoulder.” Shinsou shrugs it off as if it doesn’t mean anything to him, as if that is just a normal occurrence and Shouta feels sick to his stomach to imagine a kid—and especially Shinsou who he may have grown more attached to than he should—in a situation like that.

He makes a mental note to check the kid over later, but he fears that he’s rather adept at first aid by now.

“True. Did you use your quirk on your foster father to make him behave in a certain way?”

Here, Shinsou hesitates and both Shouta and Tsukauchi note it with worry.

“I haven’t used my quirk on Yamamoto,” Shinsou finally says and Shouta holds his breath.

“True.” Tsukauchi hesitates. “Have you ever used your quirk on anyone who was in charge of taking care of you?” he then asks and Shouta feels his eyes flare because what the fuck does this have to do with anything?

“Tsukauchi,” Shouta warningly says but Tsukauchi doesn’t back down.

“I have to ask this.”

“Fucking bullshit,” Shouta spits out even as Shinsou shrinks deeper into his chair. “This has nothing to do with anything.”

“You know how this is going to look,” Tsukauchi gives back, just as heated. “We won’t be the only  ones who noticed this clarification. It’s not a good look and if this gets brought up later, someone can spin it around. Better to get it out now.”

Shouta hates that Tsukauchi has a point and it doesn’t help that Shinsou is deathly pale right now.

Shouta and Tsukauchi glare at each other for a moment before Shouta backs down, dragging his chair over to Shinsou’s until their shoulders touch.

“I’m on your side, kid, no matter what,” Shouta says because even if Shinsou used his quirk on anyone, with what he learned today about his childhood Shouta guesses he was more than justified, even if maybe it wasn’t the right thing to do.

“Shinsou, please answer the question. Have you ever used your quirk on anyone who was in charge of taking care of you?”

“Yes.” Shinsou’s voice is thin and shaky and Shouta startles when a trembling hand clutches his sleeve.

“True,” Tsukauchi says and he sounds decidedly unhappy about it.

“If you do not ask for his reason right now, I’m going to forget myself,” Shouta shortly says and now Tsukauchi looks about as unhappy as he sounds.

“Why did you use your quirk on anyone? To protect yourself?”

“No, I—” Shinsou takes a deep breath or at least tries to because it continues to come out rapid and short. “I never used it to protect myself.”

“True,” Tsukauchi says, now with a frown on his face but Shouta can already guess where this is going.

Of course Shinsou would never do it for himself; for someone else though—the kid wants to be a hero. Of course he’d try to protect someone else.

“What did you use your quirk for?”

Shinsou curls in on himself, and Shouta can’t help himself, he puts his arm around Shinsou and pulls him close.

“It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”

Shinsou struggles to breathe for a moment before he basically slumps against Shouta.

“I—there was—in a previous family,” he haltingly starts. “The foster father there—he—” Shinsou cuts himself off and Shouta sees him gripping his own arm so tightly his fingers turn white. “I had a little sister there,” Shinsou finally gets out and Shouta goes cold with horror.

He’s worked enough years as an underground hero to understand where this is going and judging by Tsukauchi’s suddenly pale face he knows it, too.

“It—it took me a while to realise but once I did I—whenever he told us to go to sleep, I told him the same. It worked, for a while, until I fucked up and he realised. He kept me muzzled after that and—”

Shinsou breaks off with a sob and Shouta tightens his arm around him.

“True,” Tsukauchi finally says, because he has to, but Shouta still hates him for it. “How old were you? What was his name?”

It’s unthinkable, imagining what that guy could still be doing right now but Shinsou shakes his head.

“It doesn’t matter,” he gets out between his tears. “One night she—he’s paralyzed from the neck down and she’s dead.”

Shouta lets out his own shuddering breath and wonders if the kid ever went to therapy. With all the things Shouta learned today, he thinks it’s no longer optional, really.

“True,” Tsukauchi mutters and then stops the recording before he nods at Shouta and takes his leave with a muttered “I’ll take care of it.”

“I’m sorry, Shinsou,” Shouta says, because what else is there to say and Shinsou continues to cry, pressed close to Shouta.

“I just—I just wanted to protect her,” he eventually cries out and Shouta hums.

“I know. And you did the best you could,” he reassures him, because Shinsou did and he suffered for it, too.

Shinsou eventually calms down and once he does he seems worn out, completely drained of the little energy he usually has.

“What now?” he wants to ask and Shouta shrugs.

“Now I’m going to text Hizashi and then I’m going to take you home.”

“Home. Back to—them?”

“No,” Shouta denies immediately because there is no way he’s letting Shinsou back there. Who knows what that woman is going to do when she learns that her complaint has been brushed off. “I’m taking you home with me.”

Shouta trusts that Tsukauchi will have the necessary paperwork ready for him by the time they leave and Shouta gets his phone out to text Hizashi as well.

‘If the CPS gives you trouble burn it to the ground’ he types and immediately receives a thumb up emoji. ‘And ask Hound Dog if he has time to take on Shinsou or if he knows a therapist who could.’

‘That bad?’

‘Worse’, Shouta texts back and he will explain everything to Hizashi later but this is not something to be done over text. ‘I’m taking him home’.

‘You do that. Tell the little listener to get some rest’, Hizashi writes back and Shouta relays the message to Shinsou.

“I feel as if I could sleep for days now,” Shinsou admits and it must be a novel feeling for Shinsou, going by the eyebags.

“Then let’s do that,” Shouta decides and leads them out of the conference room.

Tsukauchi is waiting for them with the necessary paperwork that puts Shinsou in his preliminary care until the CPS can make it official and just like that they are out of the station and on their way home.

Shouta doubts that things will be easy and he is under no illusion that they only just scratched the surface of all the traumatic shit Shinsou went through until now, but he is safe with them now and Shouta and Hizashi will do their best to give Shinsou the loving home he deserves.

[youremyonlyhope]

Who gave Sondheim the right to write a song as bittersweetly perfect as Sorry-Grateful?

[enhard]

sim jaeyun — “you’re in safe hands”

pairing: s.jy x fem!reader

not proofread, enjoy! (MINORS DNI)

: you can’t handle looking at your boyfriend’s nice and veiny hands without doing anything about it.

cw: SMUT SMUT ALLLL SMUT, everything is consensual, hand kink (obviously), a bit of size kink, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, riding, jake calls you princess most of the time, playing with your tits, slight choking, mentions of sending nudes??, lots of whimpers from him, jake slaps your mouth, established relationship, jake has a drivers license woahwoahwoah

—————————-⋆｡°✩ ✮⋆˙—————————

you faintly hear the ringtone of your phone through the buzzing in your ear. you slowly open your eyes, let out a sigh and immediately grab your phone to stop that annoying sound.. until you look at the now lit up screen of your phone, that your boyfriend jake is calling you.

you quickly sit up in shock, trying to clear your throat and answering the call, remembering that you were supposed to go on a date today.

“mm..yes my love? how are.. you?” you say, trying your best not to yawn in the middle of your sentence.

you can hear jake laughing at you through the other line. “princess, you’re still sleeping at this hour? i’m sorry for waking you up but.. it’s 4 pm already.” wait.. what?? 4 pm?? you were supposed to meet up 3 hours ago. how is it possible that you slept this long?

“don’t worry.. sunoo told me that he tried calling you since morning and you never answered, so i just let you sleep. instead of lunch.. could we go out to dinner now..?”

“ugh..fuck.. i’m sorry. i didn’t realise i slept that long.. is it okay in 3 hours..? i need to shower..” you reply as you’re massaging your head from the massive headache you got.

“of course love. i’ll come pick you up.. although.. does this mean i get no shower sneak peek??” he chuckles, and you just roll your eyes at his words.

“hold your horses now.. you might get to see me another time.” you smile.

there’s a few awkward seconds of silence, then he decides to hang up so you can get ready.

truth is.. you slept this long because of the hangover you’re having after a longgg night partying with your best friend sunoo. main reason why your headache is also present. —

you hop in the shower, actually debating to send jake a little picture or a video but.. you decide to be a bit of a tease. you just finish your shower and start getting ready.

you get dolled up all for him, putting on a nice laced dress and your favourite ysl lipgloss, that jake bought for you as a present not long ago. you get your phone and keys, locking your huge metal gate. your phone makes a few clicking sounds while you search for jake’s number to call him.

“baby, i’m right in front of my house. i’ll be waiting for you.”

“okay princess, i’m almost there. i can’t wait to see you”

you smile at your phone as you hang up, already seeing the blinding lights of his black suv, stopping right next to you. he gets out the car to check you out for atleast 5 minutes, offering you a kiss and then opening the car door like a true gentleman. you get in the car, the seats all warmed up. “good.” you say in your mind. it’s mildly snowing out, you needed this.

jake sits back in the driver’s seat, getting ready to leave. you turn to look at him while he’s focused on the road and you can’t help but admire him. you would lie if you said that he’s not the hottest man you’ve ever laid your eyes upon. with his slick back black hair, a nice black suit hugging his waist while also complementing his eyes.

your eyes suddenly slip to his arms, more specifically his hands. they’re resting on the top of the steering wheel, his fingers so long and pretty, multiple veins following from his forearm up to the back of his hand. that scenery alone made you squeeze your thighs together, knowing you couldn’t act on it here..

there is only one thing you thought about on that silent car ride, his long fingers inside you. you needed that more than anything. right now. instead, you try to look the other way, your body as stiff as a rock.

jake looks at you for a split second wondering why you’re moving around in your seat so much. he smiles, reaching out one hand to place on your inner left thigh. “what’s wrong love? are you uncomfortable?”

you thought you would let out a moan right there, right as he placed his hand on your inner thigh. you quickly shake your head left and right trying to diffuse the situation. you accidentally look downwards at your lap, and see that same hand, now grasping the soft skin of your thigh, one vein getting more prominent with each squeeze.

you continue through this hell for a few more minutes until you arrive, exhaling when he gets his hand off you.

. . . you get to your table, through the reservation that jake made previously. the place is pretty packed for a high end restaurant like this one. you’re both making small talk, asking how your day was and.. what plans you have for tonight.. he’s flipping through the menu and all you can stare at are those hands. you begin to breathe more rapidly, getting impatient.

“who cares about food right now? all i want are those fingers in my mouth” you think, trying not to slap yourself from the realisation of what you just almost said out loud.

still, you finish eating, he pays with his black card of course. even though you keep insisting that you want to pitch in. he loves spoiling you every time and all you can give him in return are kisses or.. something more.

after another few excruciating minutes in that car, you arrive back at your home. jake sits down on the couch, manspreading while you take your shoes off.

“thank you my love.. the dinner was amazing. what can i do to repay you?” he plasters on a confused look on his face, almost replying with “you don’t have to repay me” but.. seeing how beautiful you were for him.. how you looked and how you got ready all for him.. made him needy. in a blink of an eye. he knew he was lucky dating you, and the thought that you were all his made him so excited.

“hmm.. there might be something you can do for me princess. you think i’m stupid? i saw how you were drooling over my hands. you really love them huh?”

you get a bit embarrassed, but you’re way too horny to deny anything right now. “yeah.. i really do… i need them. please.” you say already biting your bottom lip.

you can see him slowly form a grin on his face, not saying a word. he pats his thigh two times, to show you the seat you’ll have for the rest of the night.

you eagerly walk up to him and take off your coat to take your seat on his lap. he pulls you into a kiss that turns into a make out session. he travels his hands down to your waist, and you move yours to hold onto his shoulders. you don’t pull away from his lips for a long time, the taste keeping you addicted.

he makes you pull away at one point, smiling at you. he takes his own coat off, having only a white satin shirt underneath. two buttons of the shirt are already undone, showing his chest real well.. with a nod from him as agreement, you begin unbuttoning his shirt, in a few seconds leaving him shirtless. you saw those abs and muscles countless times yet.. it still makes your body have a reaction you can’t explain.

he softly tugs on your dress while whining and pouting. you laugh at his pouty face, finding him so adorable yet so demanding. “go ahead”, quiet words leave your mouth while looking into his eyes.

he does not hesitate. he takes off that dress almost ripping it off out of excitement, leaving you in your underwear. he uses his middle and ring finger to open your mouth, shoving them in and wetting them with your saliva. you suck on his fingers a bit, getting to be a bit of a show-off.

he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, taking off your panties now. he immediately starts rubbing your clit first, flicking it a bit and getting it all wet.. then he moves down to your folds, moving his fingers back and forth. you grab onto one of his shoulders for support, digging your nails in it.

“l..love please.. put them in..”

he does exactly as he’s told. he shoves both fingers inside you, slowly pumping them in and out.. you’re rapidly losing your mind, this is everything you wished for. you grab onto his wrist with your other hand, trying to make him keep going but.. to no avail.

he stops, giving you a signal to ride his fingers instead. you get into position, trying your best to move your hips back and forth. you moaned feeling his fingers in you, not being able to resist anymore already. when he curls his fingers up inside you, he was almost convinced you were about to cum.

you ride his fingers as well as you can, trying to get on his good side. he’s not quite satisfied with your pace, so he gives you a slap over the mouth. “ride them faster princess, what’s up? tired already?” you’re fucked up as is, his words are making this WAY harder for you. the moans are getting more and more consistent, figuring that you’re going to cum soon.

“okay slut, slow down now. i don’t want you to get too tired. i’ll make you bounce on my cock just like this if you’re a good girl for me.” but… you don’t slow down. with how much energy you have left, you keep going. “ahh..i need to cum..first..plea..” he cuts you off, his tone getting more irritated.

“oh? you wanna cum? let me help you cum then whore.” he grabs onto your neck, choking you ever so slightly while fucking you with his fingers. he’s moving his hand as fast as he can trying to make you cum. you moan uncontrollably at this point, getting so close to your release and not being able to talk properly from the choking.

you do end up cumming all over his veiny fingers and pants. the grasp on your neck loosens, leaving a red mark around it.

“mmm.. since i stretched you out so well with my fingers.. how about we put that to good use?” he smiles, that smile being far away from innocent. you know exactly what he wants and you’re willing to give him that.

you catch up your breath, grabbing onto his shoulders again. “let me ride you then.” you reply, trying to be as nonchalant as you can.

you move your hands down to his pants, slowly slipping them off him. the bulge in his boxers is huge, obviously you already knew that but the thought didn’t comfort you. he’s usually hard to take in, now imagine being all fucked up and having to ride him. you let out a small scared sigh, while taking his boxers off too.

his cock springs up immediately and you lick your lips looking at it. you grab the base to stroke it a few times, before getting into position to ride him. you intertwine your fingers with his as you slowly go down on him. you almost feel like giving out when you take him all in but you need to make him feel good.

you slowly start riding him, his size almost being unbearable to take. he loves it though, he loves how you struggle to take him and how that small bulge appears in your stomach everytime you bounce up and down. he grabs and pulls on your hair just to make you speed up, teasing you with that hair pull each time he feels you slowed down.

you pick up your pace significantly, moving up and down, back and forth on him. your eyes roll back from the pleasure and it really feels like he’s splitting you into two. he stops holding hands to take your tits out of your bra just to fondle them a bit. he’s running his thumb all over your nipples, sending you shivers down your spine.

“such a good girl.” he remarks, coming from him this is a compliment. you smile at his words, motivating you to keep going. he’s very deep inside you right now, any sudden movement almost making you cum a second time..

you can hear him getting more vocal over time, he’s whimpering and cooing.. the usual tough guy that would control every movement of yours, is now getting so vocal.. you love it though, your favourite part of it might just be his moans.

you clench your teeth and force yourself to go as fast as you can, just to make him cum.

“fffuck…. princess hold.. on.. i’m close..” just music to your ears. you want to let this man fill you up right now. you push yourself even more to overstimulation just to make him cum.

he lets out a whimpery moan getting so close already.

“cum.. inside me.. please my love..”

those are the last words you can say before he cums all in you. he’s filling you up to the brim and you can do is smile, feeling his cum leaking out of you. you give him a sweet kiss on the lips then on the nose.

“fucking hell… maybe we should go out to dinner more often hm?”

you laugh, running your fingers through his hair. “you’re so cute.. now, wanna join me in the shower? no games this time.”

“waittt.. so this is why you didn’t send anything from your shower today.. let’s go for another round baby. what do you think?” he says, hugging your waist.

“hmmm.. maybeee. if you use those hands of yours again.”

“well, you know you’re in safe hands with me.”

[pucksandpower]

Couples Therapy

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: let’s go to couples therapy and see how long it takes the therapist to realize we don’t know each other

You fidget nervously in the waiting room chair, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. This has to be the most ridiculous first date idea ever …but then again, Lando was never one for convention.

The office door swings open and a smiling middle-aged woman in a cardigan beckons you both inside. “Y/N? Lando? I’m Dr. Ramanujan, please come in.”

Lando shoots you a mischievous grin and you can’t help but return it as you follow the therapist into her office. This is already off to a delightfully silly start.

“So,” Dr. Ramanujan settles into her chair, notepad at the ready. “What brings you two in today?”

You open your mouth but Lando beats you to it. “Well doc, it’s like this — Y/N and I have been together for five years now but things have gotten … sticky, you might say.”

You fight back a surprised laugh at his casual lie. Five years? You met this lunatic ten days ago.

Nodding solemnly, you play along. “Yes, unfortunately some issues have arisen that we haven’t been able to resolve on our own.”

“I see,” the therapist jots something down. “And what would you say is the primary issue troubling your relationship?”

Lando strokes his chin in mock contemplation. “You know, now that I think about it, we really struggle with intimacy.”

You splutter, cheeks flushing red. He did not just go there on a first date!

“We’re very passionate people,” he continues effortlessly. “But I think we both have some hang-ups that stop us from really connecting, you know?”

Clearing your throat, you decide to steer into the skid. “Yes, you could say Lando is quite … insatiable in that area.”

Dr. Ramanujan’s eyebrows shoot up but she simply nods. “I see, I see. And how does that make you feel, Y/N?”

“Honestly?” You shrug helplessly. “Exhausted. The man is completely relentless — it’s like he’s an animal sometimes!”

Lando clutches his chest in feigned offense. “An animal? That’s a bit much, don’t you think darling?”

“Don’t you ‘darling’ me,” you snap, pushing aside your amusement at the increasingly absurd situation. “I’m just calling it like I see it. We’re here for honesty, right?”

“Touché,” Lando turns back to the therapist. “Doc, maybe you could help us find … a compromise of sorts? Because my needs are evidently not being met.”

You scoff loudly. “Not being met? Lando, I let you do that thing with the-”

Mercifully, Dr. Ramanujan interjects before you can continue that train of thought. “Perhaps we could steer our discussion in a more productive direction? Intimacy issues often stem from deeper underlying problems within a relationship. Is there anything else concerning you both?”

Lando ponders this for a moment before snapping his fingers. “You know what? I think a big part of it is that Y/N doesn’t trust me.”

“I don’t trust you?” You echo incredulously. “That’s rich coming from you, Mr. I Flirt With My Teammate Constantly!“

His jaw drops perfectly. “You’re bringing Oscar into this? That’s a low blow, babe.”

“I’m not blind!” You shoot back, doing your best to ignore how silly you both must look. “I see how cozy you two get. Tell me there’s nothing there and I’m a fool!”

“Woah, woah!” Lando holds up his hands defensively. “Oscar and I are just good friends and teammates. Nothing more.”

You cross your arms stubbornly. “If you say so.”

An uncomfortable silence falls over the room. Dr. Ramanujan seems perplexed by your crazy banter.

Finally, she clears her throat. “Right. Well, it sounds like there are some potential trust issues at play here that we should unpack-”

“Oh I’ll unpack it for you, doc!” Lando interjects, real passion entering his voice now. “Y/N is massively, astronomically insecure about our relationship. She questions my faithfulness at every turn!”

You swivel to face him fully, eyes wide. “And why, pray tell, would I possibly be insecure about that?”

“I don’t know!” He throws his hands up in exasperation. “I’ve never given you a single real reason to doubt me!”

“Except for all the pet names and inappropriate touching with Oscar!”

“Those are just friendly gestures!”

“Keep telling yourself that, buddy!”

The two of you are practically shouting at each other now, completely absorbed in your make-believe argument. Somewhere in the back of your mind you feel a bit bad for putting the poor therapist through this, but you’re having far too much fun to stop.

Dr. Ramanujan finally cuts in, raising her palms. “Okay! Okay, let’s all just take a breath, shall we?”

You and Lando freeze mid-rant, remembering where you are. He shoots you a conspiratorial wink and you have to bite your lip to suppress a smile.

“Now,” the therapist continues once the tension has diffused slightly. “Clearly there are some deep-seated resentments and triggers being hit here that we need to unravel. But I think a lot of it comes back to the intimacy and trust issues we were discussing earlier. Y/N, would you say you feel emotionally fulfilled by Lando?”

You ponder this for a moment, drawing out the suspense. Lando watches you with bated breath.

Finally, you sigh deeply. “No doc, I can’t say that I do. And maybe that’s why I’ve been so tempted to stray myself ...”

Lando’s jaw drops perfectly again. “You’ve been tempted to cheat? With who?”

Holding his gaze boldly, you declare: “My yoga instructor, actually.”

“Shane?” He looks like you just slapped him. “But he’s so … so bland!”

You shrug nonchalantly. “What can I say? Opposites attract sometimes.”

Dr. Ramanujan looks like she’s watching a tennis match, unable to get a word in edgewise.

Lando points an accusatory finger at you. “This is unbelievable! You had the audacity to blame me for the intimacy issues earlier when all this time you’ve been lusting after another man?”

“I’m a woman of insatiable needs!” You cry, borrowing his phrasing from earlier. “You said it yourself!”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” He turns desperately back to the therapist. “Please doc, you have to help us!”

She blinks owlishly a few times before finding her voice. “I … I’m not sure I can be of much assistance here.”

Lando clutches at his chest dramatically. “No, don’t say that! Our relationship is hanging by a thread as it is.”

“If it’s even still a relationship,” you mumble darkly, inspecting your nails with affected nonchalance.

“You see?” Lando pleads with the doctor. “This is what I’m dealing with every day! The constant barbs and lack of trust! I’m at my wit’s end.”

Dr. Ramanujan’s eyes dart between the two of you, seeming to deflate a little more after each deranged declaration. She sets her notepad aside with a resigned sigh.

“Listen, you two ...” she begins carefully. “While I appreciate you being upfront about your ...” she pauses, clearly searching for the right word, “unique situation, I’m afraid it goes well beyond my abilities as a therapist.”

You simply blink at her innocently while Lando dissolves into feigned hysterics beside you.

“But you have to help us!” He cries, flinging himself backwards dramatically. “Our relationship is the only thing I have left!”

You can’t help but let out a small giggle at his antics, quickly disguising it as a cough when the therapist shoots you a look. Dr. Ramanujan just shakes her head slowly.

“I’m sorry, but I clearly don’t have the tools or expertise to assist with … whatever this is.” She gestures vaguely between the two of you. “My advice would be to seek a different form of counseling. Or perhaps … separate for a while until you both figure out what you want.”

Lando clutches at his chest, feigning heartbreak. “Separate? Doc, you can’t be serious!”

“I’m afraid I am,” Dr. Ramanujan states firmly, rising from her chair. “This session has become … unproductive, to put it mildly. I think we should call it a day.”

You open your mouth to protest staying in character, but the defeated look on the poor therapist’s face gives you pause. With a sidelong glance at Lando, you decide to put her out of her misery.

Rising from your own seat, you loop your arm through Lando’s and favor the bewildered doctor with your most winning smile.

“You’re probably right, doc. We’ll, uh, take some time and really think things over. Thanks for your … insight today.”

Dr. Ramanujan simply nods, seemingly too drained to even reply as she opens the door and gestures you both through.

The second you’re out in the hallway, you can’t contain your laughter anymore. You dissolve into a fit of giggles, doubling over and clutching at Lando’s arm for support. He joins in instantly, that mischievous grin stretched wide across his face.

“Oh my god,” you gasp between peals of laughter. “Did you see her face when I brought Oscar into it?”

“I thought she was going to kick us out then and there!” Lando howls, wiping away a mirthful tear. “The things we put that poor woman through ...”

You finally manage to regain your composure, still grinning madly at the ridiculousness of it all. Leave it to Lando to come up with a first date idea as wonderfully insane as fake couples therapy.

“We should do something normal for our next date,” you quip, shooting him a sly look. “Like go skydiving or swimming with sharks.”

Lando matches your playful tone, draping an arm around your shoulders as you meander away from the office. “Whatever you say, darling. Just promise me you won’t leave me for one of the skydiving instructors, yeah?”

You pull him closer with a laugh. “No promises, babe.”

[captainreecejames]

Pick Me Up?

Charles Leclerc imagine

summary : the four times Charles picks you up and the one time you pick him up.

pairing : Charles leclerc x fem!reader

I believe there is no mention of YN, but I'm not 100% sure.

word count : 3.5 k

warnings : none that I can think of

note : I only read over this once so if there's spelling errors or other mistakes that's what happened. Next up should either be Logan Sargeant my ex is a footballer or the social media accompanying fic. Anyways, enjoy and me if you like it!!

1. Charles picks you up from a bad date

The date had started fine.

Actually more than fine. He showed up on time, was pleasant to the waitress, and had good manners. Really, he would have even gotten a second date, if he hadn’t brought up Formula 1.

It’s a topic you tend to avoid when meeting new people, as they either tend to know a lot already and want to use you to get to Charles or they don’t know anything and assume that you are using Charles, when they know nothing about your relationship. It was a hassle you learned to shut down before it even began.

But back at the date with Vince, he had brought it up and that’s when things started to go down hill. 

Despite your best efforts, when people brought up Formula 1, you grew taller and more focused on the conversation, it’s like a switch flipped. While Charles driving for the best known team certainly helped your interest, everything about the sport was fascinating for you and you couldn’t help but geek out when the topic came up. 

Vince noticed your reaction and his casual demeanor turned critical. “You only know about it because you think the drivers are hot.” That had made your smile drop instantly, brows furrowing as you tried to respond. “Probably can’t even name all the teams.” He thinks that stumps you, but you’ve dealt with enough shitty men in this sport, you’re not taking anything more from this wanna-be investor.

“I don’t have to prove my knowledge of F1 to you,” you state, deciding that this dinner is now over.

“Oh, now I know you can’t even name five drivers.” Your frown deepens, picking up your napkin and placing it on the table next to your plate. It had gone down hill so fast, how disappointing.

“Your attempt at insulting me into submission is falling flat.” His eyes are wide at your comment, and he must not have expected you realize his move. You flag the waitress over and she walks quickly back to your table, noticing how you’re not smiling anymore. Seems like this date is a bust, so another twenty note must be added to the jar of bets amongst the staff of this restaurant.

(You and Charles visit the place often as it was the sight of your first job, but also the food and people were lovely, and bringing a first date here was the safest option.)

(So they all knew you and were betting on when the dam breaks and you two admit your feelings for each other.)

You hand Lucille enough money to cover both yours and Vince’s meals, not bothering with the change. Your goal now is to get as far away from Vince as soon as possible. He  opens his mouth to say something again, but you are already out of your seat and walking towards the front door, phone calling Charles to pick you up.

He answers on the first ring, always on alert when you go on dates.

(Not because he’s jealous or anything, but because he’s worried about you and needs to make sure that you stay safe. He’s been tempted to bribe the staff of your little restaurant for information during dates after a particularly bad one, but his mom talked him out of it.)

“Ma cherie, is everything alright?” You roll your eyes at his question, just knowing that there’s a smirk on his face right now. He didn’t have a great feeling about Vince, but he wouldn’t say I told you so.

“Can you pick me up please?” You barely need to finish your question before he answers with an ‘of course, I’m already on my way.’

“Need me to stay on the phone?” You glance back at the restaurant, looking in the window to find Vince scrolling away on his phone, oblivious to the movement around him.

“No, focus on the streets. I’ll be fine.” Charles hums his answer and hangs up, leaving you to look busy on the streets of Monte Carlo.

He pulls up not even two minutes later, stopping the car haphazardly in a tow-away zone. You rush to the side, opening the door and shimmying in as fast as you can because even though this is Charles Leclerc’s very recognizable Pista, you don’t want to risk any tickets. While he pulls away you realize how fast he showed up and a question forms on your lips, but he speaks before you have the chance to ask.

“I was only down the road at the marina.” He seems sheepish, like the answer is rehearsed, but you don’t push it because you’re still grateful that he showed up. What would you do without him to pick up after a bad date?

2. Charles picks you cause your car breaks down

This time when you call him should feel less embarrassing than other times, but really it only feels worse. How are you going to admit to him that the car you’ve been saving up for and desperately wanting since you were 7 just crapped out on you before you could even get out of the parking garage? Especially when he advised you against such car. It would be humiliating. 

Alas, you made the call, practicing in your mind what you would say to him. 

Again, he picks up on the first ring, though this time you’re not sure as to why he answered so fast.

“Is everything alright, ma cherie?” You blush, grateful he can’t see your face.

“I’m stuck,” you exhale, ready to face what ever he has in store for you.

“Stuck?”

“My car won’t start and I’m still at work, everyone else has left and I’m in need of a ride.”

“Okay,” he answers, relief filling you. “I’m leaving the gym with Andrea, I should be there in 15 minutes. Don’t talk to any strangers.”

“Love you too, Charles.” You roll your eyes, hanging up on him and sitting in the drivers seat of your beloved, but broken, car. That’s some good money about to go down the drain for the tow and mechanic fees. As you debate calling your dad to help you out with diagnosing what’s wrong with the car, a familiar rumble enters the garage, and you see the ever famous Pista pulling up next to you, a smirking Charles in the driver’s seat.

“Someone call for a pick up?” You want to roll your eyes at him, but the smile on his face makes the irritation melt away. After a long day at work, made even longer because your stupid car that you really wanted wouldn’t start, all you feel is relief and affection for the man in front of you, and it’s a little too overwhelming.

Tears pool in your eyes and Charles frowns, cutting the engine and climbing out so he can hug you. He only admits it to his mother, but holding you is just as good a driving when he’s driving on the track with a car that responds to his every command.

(And what he won’t admit to anyone is that if holding you feels like that, then kissing you must feel like he’s just won a world championship.)

“Ma cherie,” he whispers, pulling your body into his own and stroking your hair to soothe you. He doesn’t ask any questions, which you’re grateful for, you don’t actually know what’s wrong other than everything is just too much and him showing up makes you feel safe enough to let it all out.

When you’ve finally slowed your breathing and made yourself relax he pulls away, looking at you with so much love in his eyes that you’re not sure if you’re dreaming. “Now you know what it felt like to drive under Binnotto.”

The comment is a shock and it makes you snort, which is what Charles was going for. Your laugh that he thinks could make him smile even in the darkest moods. “You can’t say that Mr. Ferrari.” You smack his chest while shaking your head, but the rueful smile on your face tells him that you still haven’t gotten over the team principle screwing him over.

Then the smile eases into something much more natural, and he knows the tense moment has passed. “Takeout?” he suggests, ushering you to the passenger side of his car. You nod at him and he’s pretty sure that he would do anything to make you smile.

3. Charles picks you up for a spontaneous lunch date

The next day it’s he who calls you, but you still an answer on the first ring.

(You’ve dedicated a Måneskin song as his ringtone so you always know when he’s calling)

(He made your ringtone a Mika song after you dragged him to a concert)

“Charles,” you answer, confusion in your tone.

“Ma cherie!” he sounds excited and you can’t help but want to follow him anywhere he goes when he sounds like that.

“Is everything alright?” You ask it this time, because shouldn’t he be packing for a race now?

“I’m outside, we’re going to spend the day on the water.” After leaving your home last night, Charles decided that you needed a pick me up, and what better way but to spend a few hours lounging around on his yacht, soaking up the sun and enjoying each other’s company.

(No one else would be there, but this wasn’t a date.)

(Seriously Arthur, it wasn’t a date.)

You spare a glance around your room, laundry begging to be done and dishes waiting to be washed. Yeah, you could use a day away from chores.

“Let me grab a bag,” you tell him, already throwing more clothes around the room in search of your favorite bathing suit. He hums through the speaker and you put your phone down to keep searching for the bathing suit. It was your favorite red crossover one piece and you be damned if you didn’t wear it today, anything to manifest a Ferrari win.

When you finally manage to find it, in the pile of clean but not put away laundry, you pick your phone back up and tell Charles you’ll be right down.

In two minutes you’re out the door of apartment, eyes landing on Charles leaning against his car. He looks so handsome with the windswept hair and Ray-bans on, you really have to wonder why he’s spending the afternoon with you and not some model he met in a garage.

(He’d say it’s because it’s the weekend before a race and this is a tradition, spending the afternoon with you before he leaves is the only way to ward off bad luck.)

(Seriously, before the Netherlands race last year you'd been unable to make it because of a bad cold and he had to retire the car that race, so safe to say you were forced to the boat, or his apartment, or he came over before the plane every time after that.)

Maybe the question is what would he do without you?

4. Charles picks you up from a girl’s night

This time Charles doesn’t pick up on the first ring, in fact, he barely makes it to the phone in time to answer. That’s because it’s not you who is calling, but rather a friend.

You and few girl friends had decided on a girls night out for one of them going through a bad break up, but after a few pregame shots and then drinks at this club, you were pretty intoxicated.

Looking for your group after coming back from the bathroom and the bar, you had spotted Lando and Max across the room, which made you think about Charles.

(Not that he ever really left your mind.)

And when you think about Charles, you wonder where he is, so you went to your friends. Both their faces lit up when they saw you, indicating that they were also not sober. After a quick hug for both of them you turn to survey the rest of the bar, looking for your Monagasque. 

“He’s not here!” shouts Max, trying to be heard over the noise. Your shoulders drop, turning back to the two racers with a pout on your lips.

“Where is he?” you ask, trying to seem nonchalant, but drunk you can’t hide her feelings as easily as sober you.

(Many would argue that sober you can’t hide her feelings easily either, but all that matters is that Charles doesn’t find out. And since he’s too occupied in hiding his also obvious feelings, you’re both oblivious to the other’s pining.)

Lando says that Charles stayed at home, something about playing the piano and having an early night was more tempting than drinks. The real reason being that if Charles went out he would not have been able to stop thinking about you and your potential suitors, which would lead to him drinking to forget. He was not up for another heartbreak hangover.

Your eyes light up at the mention of Charles playing the piano, sitting down in the booth with them. “Oh! I bet it’s going to sound wonderful!” Both drivers roll their eyes, and to their disappointment, you’re not drunk enough to miss it. “You don’t like his music?” The accusation in your tone makes them readjust their face. It’s not that they don’t like his compositions, it’s just that when Charles explains them, it’s almost always about how you looked on a certain day and he just was so inspired he had to put something down. They’re really tired of the back and forth between you too.

You begin your speech on how talented Charles is at the piano, which then morphs into how talented he is as a driver, and then as a person. It all turns into a ramble about how proud you are of him, something they’ve all heard before.

When you’ve somehow made it to Leo and how Charles chose the perfect puppy, the man himself shows up.

“Ma cherie,” he interjects, placing a hand on your shoulder to get your attention. You turn towards him, and Max swears that there should be cartoon hearts in your eyes.

“Charles!” you yell, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. “What are you doing here?” You’re slightly too loud for being in his arms, but he doesn’t care if you yell his ear off, it’s still you.

“Max said you were ready to come home.” Your brows furrow at that, because you don’t remember ever saying that, or even Max disappearing to call Charles, but you can’t be mad at him showing up.

“One more drink?” you ask, eyes pleading with him. Charles shakes his head, he can feel how much he’s supporting your weight even while sitting and knows that any more alcohol will likely end with you tripping over yourself.

“Water,” he answers and you’ve agreed to the words coming out of his mouth because it’s Charles, and he’ll never steer you wrong.

Charles heads to the bar to grab a water, running into your group of friends there. He tells them your status and that’ll he’ll be taking you home after this drink. They all nod along, most of them predicting that the night would end like this: Charles showing up and driving you home.

When it’s finally time to leave and Charles has ushered you out of the packed club into his Pista, you remember that you came here with a completely different group. “The girls!”

“Don’t worry, ma cherie, I saw them before we left and told them I’d take you home.” The gentle smile on his face is enough to put one on yours. Where would you be without him, indeed.

+ 1. You pick Charles up from the airport

You’ve got a new car now, thanks to Charles, and since he needs to be picked up from the airport, you’ve decided to take it for a nice spin. The roads are relatively clear for the drive, and you’re there in the usual 30 minutes. That makes you early for Charles, but you take the time to work out what you’re going to say to him.

Before you get out of the car you text him your location, so that he can head right out and find you, rather than you going into the terminal to look for him. He always was better at finding you.

The last night out had not only ended with Charles taking you home, but with a revelation. You couldn’t keep living like this. Loving him so much and not telling him was suffocating. It made you feel like you were on the edge of a cliff with nothing to keep you safe, and you were tired of it. So the question was, how did you tell him.

“Charles, I’ve been in love with you for ages,” you said, but shook your head. That didn’t sound right.

“Charles, I have to tell you something really important. I think I’m in love with you.” No, you shook your head again and groaned. “I don’t think I’m in love with him, I know I am.”

“Charles, you’re the most important person in my life, I don’t know what I’d do with out you.” Okay, solid start, you might have something with that.

“Charles light of my life.” No. “That’s too cheesy.”

“God, I wish I could put into words how much you mean to me. I love you so much I don’t know what to do with myself most of the time. It’s like I need to feel you to be able to breathe properly. All I really ever need is for you to look and smile at me and I’ll know that everything will be alright. I can get through anything with you there. If you love someone else it would break my heart, but knowing that you’re happy is all I need to be okay. I’d live with the thought of you loving someone else, because if they made you as happy and good as I feel, then there’s nothing more I could ask for.” Yeah, that sounded-

“Well it’s a good thing I love you too.”

You screamed, turning around to see Charles behind you in all his glory. Black sweatshirt and baggy jeans, hair messy like he ran his hand through it multiple times.

“How long have you been there?” you asked, face turning red enough to rival Ferrari.

“At Charles, light of my life.” He shrugged, like you hadn’t just bared your soul out to him. “Though, I disagree, it’s not too cheesy.” Could you get any redder? Feels like this is as red as a human being could get before self-combusting.

He’s just standing there, with a dopey smile on his face that you want to kiss, but you can’t. Something is holding you to the spot. You force yourself to say something. “Can you say something else?”

“Like what?”

“Anything else, I feel like I’m going to explode if you don’t say something.”

“Thanks for coming to pick me up.” He adds a shrug to the end and you narrow your eyes.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Oh, you want me to say that I love you too.”

“I don’t want you to say it if you don’t mean it.” If you were a kid you’d add a stomp to the end, as if you were throwing a temper tantrum. He furrows his brow like he’s confused and still you want to kiss him senseless.

“Well, I mean it.”

Now you’re the one confused. “What?”

“I love you too, and I don’t think I’d be okay if you loved someone else as much as I love you. Because I’m selfish and a terrible man and I want you all to myself.” He shakes his head. “I need you all to myself,” he corrects. “You’re the love of my life and if I wasn’t yours then I don’t think I could go on. But you said you do love me, so everything is so much easier now.” Each sentence is punctuated with a step closer, until he’s just a few inches from you, like he needs you to take the last step. You do, without hesitation, because you really would do anything for him.

Eyes glancing at his lips and back, you catch him doing the same thing. “I love you more than anything in this world. I’d give up racing if you asked, I do anything for you.”

Another glance at his lips. “I’d never ask that of you, Charles. But, I love you too, and I’d do anything for you.” His smile at those words would normally catch you off guard, like you’d stop breathing at it, but somehow it just makes everything easier right now. So you kiss him.

Leaning forward those last few inches to grab his shoulders and pull him down so you can kiss him with as much love as you can muster. If words can’t explain how much you love him then maybe kissing him will convey it. That you love him more than words, actions and thoughts can combine. You love him.

(And he loves you.)

[aewon]

all night, in love — YJW

pairing- jungwon x fmr genre: fluff, e2l, fake dating ⚠️: kissing, cursing, slight slight very tiny angst (practically nonexistent) wc: 3k

You hate Yang Jungwon, and he hates you too.

The reason? You ACCIDENTALLY tripped him in front of his crush in 9th grade. You never knew someone could hold such a grudge for something that wasn’t on purpose.

Ever since that day, Jungwon has made it his life mission to make you miserable.

He doesn’t do anything physical, he just makes annoying, mean jabs at you whenever he can, which you don’t hesitate to fire back.

What you never expected was for him to come up to you, asking for a favor.

“A favor? Why would I ever want to help you?” You scoff at his audacity, turning away from him on the bench you’re currently occupying.

He doesn’t go away, instead sitting next to you on the other side, facing you.

“Please, I’ll do anything!” When you look at him, he’s pouting, something that’s never been directed toward you.

He almost looks…cute?

“Anything?” You ask, not concealing the smirk gracing your face.

“… As long as it’s nothing super crazy, yes.”

You ponder for a moment, what could you possibly need from Yang Jungwon.

“I’ll help you, but I’m not telling you what you’re doing until after we’re done! So what exactly is it that you need?”

Jungwon suddenly looks away from you, biting his lip as if he’s afraid to say it.

“Well? We don’t have all day.”

He looks down at the ground, twiddling his thumbs before finally speaking, “I need you to date me.”

You almost spit out the sip of coffee you just took.

“What?”

“Look, you know Yoona, right?”

You nod, having met the girl before in science class.

“I have a huge crush on her but she never notices any of my attempts to talk to her or engage so I figured if I’m dating someone, that’ll make her notice. Everyone knows we don’t like each other so it’ll make a huge spectacle.”

Your eyebrows furrow at his rhetoric.

“Everyone knows we don’t like each other, so they’ll definitely believe we just started dating? That makes no sense, Jungwon. Come on, you’re smarter than that.”

“We can say it was all a ruse! We just didn’t want people knowing how much we like each other so we pretended to have a fued instead.”

“Still doesn’t make sense. Our friends and peers aren’t stupid, they’ll see right through us.”

“Not if we’re convincing! We’re talking right now, right? Not arguing. We’ll just tell everyone we decided to come clean. Please do this for me, you know I’d never bother you with something like this otherwise.”

That is true, and although you can’t ever imagine yourself liking someone like Jungwon, it’s fake.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

Jungwon, for the first time, gives you a genuine smile. One that’s not devolving into a sneer or fake.

“So, what do we do now?” He asks.

“Do you have any boundaries you don’t want crossed?”

He shakes his head, “I want this to be believable.”

Without warning, you tug him forward by his shirt, planting your lips on his.

You don’t open your eyes to see if he’s shocked or not, but soon you feel his lips moving with yours.

His large hand travels to cup the side of your face.

You don’t know how long you’re kissing for, or rather making out at this point, but you’re interrupted by the bell ringing.

As you pull away, Jungwon looks as if he’s in a daze.

Your eyes look around the courtyard and multiple people are staring at you, looking away quickly when they realize they’ve been caught.

“Bye boyfriend, I’ll see you later.” You wink, getting up from the bench and leaving to go to class.

The end of the school day comes quicker than not, and you wait outside for your friend Ningning so you can drive her home.

A hand comes to rest on your waist, and you turn to find Jungwon standing beside you.

“I figured I’d get your number now so none of our friends suspect us.”

You nod, taking his phone and putting your number in, texting yourself quickly.

You save his number in your own phone as “wonnie ❤️” while he saves yours as “babe 🩷.”

“You drive Ningning to school right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I’ll start driving the both of you, just text me your address and I’ll pick you up first tomorrow.”

“Sounds good, we should also figure out some kind of timeline for this relationship. When do we wanna say this started?”

Jungwon ponders for a moment, “A few months ago? Not too specific but not suspicious either. We could say after a while the dislike toward one another became tired and we decided to be friends which then developed into a relationship.”

“And why did we hide it?”

“Because we were embarrassed.” He shrugs and you nod along.

“Sounds good, we can figure out details later.”

Out in the parking lot, his group of friends are all staring at you. “I should get home,” Jungwon says, “we’re all hanging at my place and I know they’re dying to ask me about us.”

“Call me tonight?”

He nods, wrapping you up in a hug, pulling away to kiss your lips.

You can’t help but like the feeling of his lips on yours, or maybe it’s because you haven’t felt the kiss of someone in so long.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re obsessed with my lips. You like kissing me.” Jungwon smirks at your reddening cheeks.

“Please, it’s just been a while. The feeling is nice is all,” you respond, pushing him lightly.

He raises his hands in surrender before walking away, toward his friends whose eyes are on him like a hawk.

“What the actual fuck is going on!” You hear Ningning from a mile away as she quickly approaches you, “Why the hell did I have to find out from Minji that you and Jungwon are dating?”

“I’ll explain in the car.”

Ningning doesn’t hesitate to ask a million and one questions about your newfound relationship, and you answer to the best of your abilities without making too many plot holes.

You tell her about the new arrangement with Jungwon picking you both up which she agrees to easily.

After dropping her off, you make your way home to relax and de-stress.

You shower before changing into more comfortable clothes.

Your parents won’t be home for a while so you sit on the couch, watching Netflix with an after school snack.

You must’ve fallen asleep on the couch because when you open your eyes, you’re in your room and not on the couch.

You check for your phone, finding it on the nightstand beside you.

The time reads 8:00pm and you sigh. Now you’ll be up all night.

Your phone begins to ring, Jungwon’s name popping up.

“Hello,” you say, grogginess evident in your voice.

“Did I wake you?”

“No, I just woke up. I fell asleep after school, my dad must’ve moved me from the couch to my bed.”

“Okay, good. Did Ningning bombard you with questions? Because my friends did.”

“She absolutely did. I stuck with our plan and tried to avoid any personal questions.”

“Speaking of, I figured we should learn more about each other if we’re gonna make this work.”

You agree and begin asking each other questions.

Favorite color, hobbies, family info, things that a couple should know about one another.

You learn that you and Jungwon actually have a lot in common. You both love action movies, dogs, cats, food of course among other things.

It feels very normal talking to him like this, and not arguing or making jabs at each other.

It feels like you’ve been on the phone forever, checking the time as it reads 10:00pm.

“We’ve been on the phone for 2 hours. It’s crazy how quickly time passes.”

You hum, feeling yourself start to get tired again.

“Are you sleepy?” Jungwon asks, and you hum once more.

“Then we should cut this call here, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The only response Jungwon gets is your quiet breathing on the other end, knowing you’ve fallen asleep.

He smiles on his end, ending the call before going to sleep himself.

The next morning, Jungwon texts you that he’ll be there to pick you up at 7:15, then you’ll swing by Ningning’s.

You get ready quietly, deciding to dress up a bit.

When Jungwon arrives, you get in the passenger's side of his car, wishing him good morning.

“Morning,” he says before kissing your cheek.

You smile, side eyeing him slightly, “You know you don’t have to kiss me when we’re not around others.”

You see his cheeks flush pink, “I know, but I figured it’s better to be as natural as possible.”

“Ah, okay. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you just like kissing me,” you say, throwing his words from yesterday back at him.

“Pft!”

You playfully argue all the way to Ningning’s house.

When she gets in the car, she greets you and Jungwon like this is a normal occurrence.

You talk with Ningning the rest of the way to school, with Jungwon chiming in every once in a while.

When you arrive, Ningning leaves first, needing to see a teacher before class.

You and Jungwon get out, and he takes your hand in his larger one while he carries both your bag and his.

“Who knew you were such a sweetheart?” You laugh as he glares at you halfheartedly.

The cafeteria is where students wait for class to start if they’re at school early, so you and Jungwon find a quiet corner to occupy.

His friends come in and make their way to you.

They all greet you, albeit hesitantly as if this is all still one big prank.

You realize you’ve never taken the time to get to know any of them either, just associating them with Jungwon.

They’re actually very funny, making you laugh freely.

When the bell rings, everyone disperses.

Jungwon kisses you goodbye before handing you your bag and making his way to class while you do the same.

In class, you’re just doing self work, but people still talk quietly.

“Hey, Y/N,” a voice says from beside you.

You look up to see Yoona, the girl Jungwon was talking about.

“Hey Yoona, what’s up?” You whisper, trying not to draw any attention.

“I just wanted to ask you… since when have you and Jungwon been dating?”

She’s asking, that must mean she’s at least somewhat interested, right? This could be good for Jungwon.

“A few months. We just didn’t tell anyone cause we were kinda embarrassed.”

“Ah, I see. Good for you.”

You thank her and she goes back to her work while you do the same.

During lunch, which you unfortunately don’t share with Jungwon, you text him about Yoona.

“That’s cool, our plan must be working 😈,” he responds.

You eat with Ningning, gossiping as you always do.

Later on, Ningning texts you to tell you she won’t need a ride home. She has a project to work on with a classmate so they’re going to her house.

That leaves you and Jungwon alone in his car at the end of the day.

“Do you wanna come over?” He asks.

“Sure.”

The drive to his home is quiet, but he stops at the coffee shop to get you both something.

Your large caramel macchiato is delicious and you promise to pay Jungwon back but he dismisses you with a wave of his hand.

“Nothing’s too much for my girl.”

You don’t know why your heart beats so fast when he says that.

Arriving at his home, you leave your backpack in his car. He invites you inside and a white ball of fluff greets you eagerly.

It’s a dog and it sniffs you before jumping on your legs.

“This is Maeum,” Jungwon says, picking up the dog. “He likes meeting new people.”

“Hi Maeum!” You take the dog into your arms and he nuzzles into you immediately.

After he’s been put down, Jungwon takes you to his room.

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” He asks, and you agree.

He lets you choose and you pick a recently released action film.

As you lay on his bed, Jungwon puts his arm around you, pulling you close.

The sunlight from outside shines into the room, illuminating it in a beautiful glow.

As Jungwon seems to be entirely grossed in the movie, you take the opportunity to look at him.

His dark hair is fluffy, his bangs laying on his forehead.

His jaw is sharp even as he’s relaxed and his eyes are big and wide, watching the screen intently.

You admire his face, his nose is long and big, something you’ve always found attractive.

His lips are plump and so, so kissable as you already know.

You can’t help it, you take his face into your hand, turning it towards you.

“What?” He asks, staring into your eyes.

You lean forward, connecting your lips with his.

He responds immediately, pressing harder.

You move before you even realize it, swinging your leg over his lap to straddle him.

You’re making out eagerly, running your hands through his hair while his hands travel down your back to eventually rest on your thighs.

His tongue meets yours as it gets hotter inside the room.

You don’t know how long you spend there, your body pressed against his.

By the time you separate, both your lips and his are red and swollen.

Jungwon’s eyes are narrowed as they stare at you.

“What?”

“You must really like me or something,” he says, giggling as you hit his chest before moving to get off him.

“No,” he stops you, “stay here.”

You end up laying on top of him.

It’s quiet and he’s playing with your hair, gently, trying not to disturb you.

Time passes and before you know it, it’s 8:00 pm.

“I have to go home,” you tell Jungwon, who whines in protest.

“Don’t want you to go.”

“I know, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jungwon concedes, and you both get up so he can drive you home.

The drive is quick and he’s bidding you goodbye, not before giving you a kiss.

After doing your night routine, you lay in bed, thoughts full of Jungwon.

It’s only been two days since your plan started but you feel different.

You feel happier, happier than you already were.

Is it because of Jungwon? You feel like the answer is obvious but you’re too afraid to admit it.

The next couple of days follow the same routine. You and Jungwon meet in the morning and hang out after school.

He takes you out for ice cream and coffee, takes you to the local park to have a picnic and more.

This fake relationship starts to feel more and more real everyday.

“Heeseung is hosting a party tomorrow, do you wanna go?” Jungwon asks, watching the tv while you pay attention to your phone.

You look up, “Sure.”

Jungwon hums in acknowledgment, his arm coming to wrap around your shoulders.

You unknowingly lean into his chest.

The next day, Saturday, you do nothing until it’s time to get ready for the party.

You find a pretty dress in your closet, one that’s not too revealing but just enough.

You text Jungwon a picture.

y/n: what do you think :p

wonnie ❤️: you look beautiful 🥰 i’ll be there in 5

In the car, you and Jungwon agree to stick together and send a text if you get separated.

The party is already thriving by the time you arrive.

You and Jungwon hold hands, walking through and greeting people.

You find the other guys in the kitchen, pouring drinks.

They greet you cheerfully, handing you a drink of something. You don’t know what it is, but it tastes good so you don’t complain.

You and Jungwon make your way to the dance floor, where your bodies are pressed against one another tightly.

After some time, you excuse yourself to the bathroom.

“Do you want me to come with you? I’ll stand outside?” Jungwon asks but you shake your head.

“I’ll be fine.”

Heeseung directs you to the bathroom upstairs.

You pass by people on your way there.

The light isn’t on and you knock, no one answers.

Once you deem it safe, you enter.

You lock the door and do your business.

After washing your hands, you make your way back downstairs.

Before you re-enter the living room, you hear two voices that sound familiar.

You choose to ignore it, wanting to find Jungwon.

You search for him for 5 minutes before giving up.

Making your way to the backyard, it’s empty, to your relief.

You sit on the outside table, breathing in the fresh air.

“Hey, I was looking for you,” Jungwon says from behind you.

“I was looking for you too but I got impatient after 5 minutes.” You laugh as he takes a seat beside you.

“Yoona came up to me,” he says.

“Oh? What’d she have to say?”

Jungwon takes a deep breath in, “She confessed to me.”

Oh.

“Oh? That’s…great, no? This is what you wanted. That means we can end this whole thing and—”

“I rejected her,” Jungwon says firmly.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, “But the whole plan was to get her to fall for you, I don’t understand?”

“I rejected her because I realized that I really like you. I know it’s only been a couple of days but you’re nothing like I thought you were. We feuded because I was being petty. I never took the time to really get to know you. You’re…amazing, to put it lightly. You’re smart and kind, funny, we have so much in common and at this point I don’t see myself with anyone except you.”

You reel in Jungwon’s confession. Here you thought he was going to break everything off.

“Jungwon, I like you too, a lot.”

He lets out a breath you didn’t realize he was holding, “You do?”

��Yeah, I’ve realized how sweet and kind you are. The thought of you being with Yoona made me crazy but I didn’t want to get hurt by rejection.”

“Well you don’t have to worry. You have me, no matter what.”

He kisses you, fiery and passionately.

The next day as you walk hand in hand with Jungwon around town, you think you’ve hit the jackpot.

© AEWON 2024

[soleilapproves]

Boxer!Sukuna who dedicates his first ever win to you

Note: female reader

Masterlist

Your heart was racing. Sukuna had prepared you for the fact that boxing arenas could get overwhelming with the constant yelling and cheering for violence, but you still felt uneasy watching your boyfriend receive punch after punch.

You knew your boyfriend was just a rookie boxer but you couldn’t help but pray that by some miracle, he would be able to defeat his opponent. He had been training specifically for this match for the past two months and had sacrificed his blood, sweat and tears for it. It didn’t help that his opponent was a seasoned winner.

Your chest tightened as Sukuna was struck down once again. All you could think about was how he would study his opponent’s moves late at night while you stayed up with him. You pressed your hands together, hoping that he would win by some miracle.

Almost as if on cue, Sukuna managed to dodge a critical hit and wound his arm to absolutely knock out his opponent. The other fighter fell on to the ground and did not get up even after the countdown. The referee grabbed Sukuna’s hand and raised it in the air as the crowd erupted in cheers.

You let out a sigh of relief and clapped as loudly as possible for your boyfriend’s triumph. It was his first win as a professional boxer. He was going to start making a name for himself pretty soon and you could only imagine what was to come after. He deserved this. It was all because of his hard work and resilience.

Sukuna’s tired eyes searched for yours in the VIP box and you smiled at him. He returned an exhausted one back to you and proceeded to do something you never expected.

He kissed his fingers and pointed to you, all your friends and in the VIP box began clamoring with teases and giggles.

Even while being adorned with his belt, Sukuna’s eyes never left yours. He mentioned earlier that your presence was integral to his success but you never knew it was to such a degree. You blew him a flowing kiss and he chuckled at the sight. He didn’t even bother to look at the cameras looming around him until his manager told him to pose for the pictures.

Of course, after his first win, he was immediately subject to a press conference. He sulked at first, hoping that he could share at least a moment with you before being bombarded with questions but he decided to get it over with so he could go home soon.

“Mr. Sukuna, how do you feel after your first win.”

“Fucking tired.” Your bruised and battered boyfriend replied. The crowded erupted into a few giggles and murmurs at his deadpan reply.

“Would you like to mention any people that helped you become a good fighter?”

“Aside from my coach, I want to dedicate my win to my girlfriend. She put up with a lot of my shit while training.”

You giggled at his reply from backstage. Supporting wasn’t a chore but it was extensive work. Cooking twice the amount of food so he could bulk, constantly having your sleep disturbed because he would train in the early hours of the morning, and not go too crazy when you ate out on dates was difficult but well worth the effort.

-

After the press conference, you two were back home. Sukuna had retired to your bedroom while you did the finishing touches of your night time skin care.

“The winner of today’s fight commands his woman’s presence.” Your boyfriend called out, urging you to hurry up. You put away your containers and walked to the bedroom. “I’m here, your majesty.” You sarcastically replied as you laid down next to him. He had a frown on his face from being alone.

He opened up the blanket to let you in and slotted you next to him with your back facing his chest. His arms wrapped around you as he tucked your head under his chin. “I forgot to congratulate you earlier.” You speak out.

He hums and squeezes you. “Thanks. Only took you 3 hours to say that.” You could almost feel him sulk.

“Can you blame me? You were surrounded by people. I needed to let you have your moment.” You reasoned.

“What about when we were driving back? It was just you and me in the car.”

“You fell asleep as soon as your ass touched the seat.”

He scoffed at your reply and pushed you away. “Whatever, it’s not like getting a congratulatory kiss from my girlfriend was the only thing I wanted.” He said as he turned his back you.

This man was a big baby. The world saw him as an upcoming and fearful fighter but here he was sulking over the fact that you didn’t give him attention.

You giggled and rubbed his back to soothe him. “I can still give you a congratulatory kiss if you want.” For a second, you swore that he almost turned around but he gave you the silent treatment instead. “Kuna,” you whined. As much as you cringed while saying it, you knew using that nickname was his weakness.

“What?”

“I’m sorry, baby. Let me give you the kind of kiss a winner deserves.” You said as you rubbed his stomach. The man turned around, eyes not meeting yours. He was still sporting the frown from earlier.

You held his face in your hands. Your fingers traced his tattoos and you could see his eyes rapidly moving because of your touch. You giggled and moved your fingers to his lips. Luckily, his opponent missed them during the fight so you could easily kiss him.

You slowly pressed your lips against his and he immediately reciprocated. While your touch was delicate with your hand on cradling face, his touch was rougher. His hand entwined in your hair as his body pressed to yours. Your tongue entered his mouth and he gladly welcomed it which a slight suck.

His free hand travelled down to your waist and rolled you on top of him. The kiss would’ve gotten more heated if he didn’t wince all of a sudden.

“What’s wrong, Kuna?”

He propped you back down on the bed. And grabbed the area right beneath his chest. “Ah shit, I forgot about my rib getting bruised.” You grimaced at the thought of him being in pain.

“Want me to get some ice? I can always sleep on the couch so I don’t end up accidentally kicking you.” You said out of concern.

His eyes widened and he quickly shook his head. “Don’t worry, it’s not that bad.” He grabbed ahold of your waist again and just pulled you close to him. “I didn’t win that trophy so my girlfriend could sleep on the couch. And since I’m a boxing champion, I can handle a few punches from you.”

“But-“

“Shush.” He pecked you on the lips to keep you from protesting. “This is how I wanna celebrate my first win. With you next to me.”

[rosenclaws]

Congratulations on the 600 followers!!!

Can I request a smut/NSFW drabble.. I'm thinking worst logan..

Neighbour(?) Reader got asked out as a joke and he finds her upset.. (plus size if possible if not no worriessss!!!!)

Love your work!!

And congrats again on all the followers that's AMAZING!!

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, fem!reader, plus sized!reader, oral (f!receiving), dirty talk, logan low key has a thigh kink, pet names (princess and pretty girl)

600 follower drabble masterlist

wc: 1.3k

a/n: Worst logan my love. Also this is my first time writing explicitly plus sized so please let me know if I need to change anything!! I hope you like it <33 Also this turned into way more than a drabble lol.

Men really were the fucking worst. Actually the fucking worst. What reason could someone have to do something so cruel? For a joke? A laugh? To hurt someone so badly just for fun? You sat at the damn restaurant for an hour checking your phone.

When you finally did get ahold of that asshole he just laughed at you. Told you it was a joke, that he'd never seriously be into someone like you. Your eyes welled with tears but you refused to let them fall in public. God, you can still feel the stares of people around you. The whispers.

How sad, that poor girl.

Did you see her check her phone over and over again?

Don't stare, she probably already feels bad enough...

Their words stung more than that assholes. You aren't stupid, you know that you aren't stereotypically attractive. You don't match the girls in magazines.

But that doesn't mean you don't deserve basic human respect. You didn't even like the guy, in fact, based on his horrible personality you were really doing him a favor.

You angrily stomped up the stairs and through the hallway. You should feel bad about the noise but you just can't bring yourself to care. You slam your door closed and toss your things onto your couch. A knock on the door almost makes you scream. Whoever it was needs to take the hint.

"What." You say as you rip open your door.

"Oh. It's you." You say flatly.

Any other time you'd be thrilled to see your hot neighbor at your door but right now it felt like another reminder of your failed love life.

"What crawled up your ass? Could hear you muttering a mile away." He asks and you roll your eyes.

"Brought you a peace offering." He holds up a bottle of wine and you decide to let him in.

"You're a man Logan. Why are men such shallow assholes?" You take another sip.

"Date gone bad princess?"

"I wouldn't even call it a date." You swirl your drink around in the glass.

To admit what really happened feels embarrassing. Especially to Logan. You had a massive crush on the man. That started the minute you met him. Your nice but weird neighbor Wade introduced the two of you one night. The second you looked into those gorgeous eyes and shook his big hands it was over.

"Hello? You still there?" Logan waves his hand in front of your face and you snap out of your thoughts. Deciding this day couldn't get any worse so you might as well just tell him.

"I got stood up. Turns out he asked me out as a joke."

"What a fucking dick." Logan growls. His hand tightened around the beer can in his hand.

"He said he'd never be into someone like me." You say with a huff. Drinking the last of your wine.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

“Come on Logan, you’re a million years old you know what I’m talking about.” You gesture to yourself and it seems to click in his head.

“So what? Who fucking cares about that.” The can crushes under his intense grip the longer he thinks about it. You pour yourself more wine before answering him.

“Apparently, most people do.” 

“Well, he’s an idiot. Anyone would be lucky to have you.” He sees you brush him off and it bothers him. He’s not the kind of guy to lie to make you feel better. So why you don’t believe him is beyond him. He sees things as they are.

“I know a beautiful woman when I see one princess.” He smirks as he inches closer to you.

You’ve been the subject of Logan’s wet dreams for a while now. Your sweet laugh and pretty face. The sinful things he’s thought about. He’d feel ashamed but he knows you’ve got the hots for him too. Your staring isn’t as subtle as you think. Plus his super hearing allows for him to pick up on your more…intimate moments. He doesn’t mean to hear them, but he does.

“Logan…” Your breath catches in your throat as he cages you into the couch. His strong arms are on full display for you as you shrink into the couch. He’s got this feral grin on his face that both excites you and makes you nervous.

“Only boys can’t see past that bullshit. I’m a man. A man who knows how to please a woman like you.” He purrs.

Are you dreaming? Is this really happening? His knee nudges its way between your legs. The rough material of his jeans rubs against your panties. The friction makes you squirm.

“You gonna let me make you feel good pretty girl?” He whispers in your ear. His hand slips under your dress, fingers brushing over your clothed cunt. Teasing your skin with his touch.

“Please fuck!” You gasp as you claw at his shirt.

He reaches and tears it to shreds. Your mouth waters as you see his back muscles stretching and bulging, free of any clothing to hide him away. He’s a man on a mission as he lifts your dress up. His massive shoulders push your legs apart. You couldn’t close them even if you wanted to, which you don’t. He pulls your panties to the side and licks his lips.

“Just know she’s ripe and sweet. All for me.” His claws peek out and your heartbeat quickens as the sharp metal cuts through the fabric of your underwear.

“There we go.” He throws the scraps to the side and wraps his arms around your thighs. Hands digging into your soft skin. He squeezes your thighs and you hear a low purr coming from his throat.

“Fuck!” You moan as Logan buries his face in your pussy. There’s no holding back as he laps like an animal feasting on its favorite treat.

“So fucking sweet, god bury me in these thighs.” He mumbles.

His brain fogs with pleasure as he buries his tongue as far as it will go. You’re trapped in feeling his every torturous move. His grip is bruisingly delicious.

“Logan logan fuck don’t stop!” You tug hard on his hair as you grind your hips against his mouth. You’re losing it in pleasure as his tongue flicks across your clit.

“That’s what I’m fucking talking about.” He lifts his head, eyes clouded with lust as he tilts his head back. Savoring the taste of you as he prepares to dive back in. He’d die a happy man just to be suffocated between your beautiful thighs.

“Stupid fucking boys, you don’t need them right pretty girl? Not when you have me. I’ll make you come so hard you’ll never think of anyone else again.” You nod along to whatever he is saying.

Your head is up in the clouds as he sucks on your clit. Determined to make you scream his name. His wish is granted as he relentlessly plays toys with your clit. His tongue works magic as he brings your orgasm crashing down.

“Logan!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you lose yourself in pleasure.

Your senses muddle together as whimpers tumble from your lips, body buzzing with a warm and fuzzy feeling. It doesn’t last long as Logan refuses to let up. Working you into overstimulation until you’re pushing his head away weakly.

“Too much for you?” He licks his lips, a cocky smile on his face.

“No, I just. Need a break.” You say breathlessly as you try and control your breathing.

Your eyes travel down his chest. Admiring his muscles and stupidly attractive arms. His cock is straining in his pants. You let out a small yelp as he picks you up effortlessly.

Man, you love his mutant strength. Logan gently places you on your bed. He toys with your dress as he resists the urge to rip it apart.

“What was that guy's name again?” He asks as he unbuckles his belt. You open your mouth to answer but he cuts you off. He didn’t want an answer anyway.

“Doesn’t matter, You won’t remember it by the time I’m done with you.” 

[bunny-lily]

Satoru, who...

Did you ask for more fluff? I did, ehe~

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

CW: pure fluff, just fluff, no angst, only happiness | proposal, marriage, pregnancy, husband!Gojo, dad!Gojo, soft!Gojo, categorically fucking whipped Satoru, domesticity, kinda slice-of-life, mildly suggestive at the end

The starstruck boy, Gojo Satoru, who is utterly obsessed with you in every way possible.

AN: while I’m in the middle of writing an absurdly long fic, I wanted to post some shorter stuff to 1) keep my hands loose and brain active/busy, and 2) post something while I’m working on the fic to come. I won’t post much about it rn because I want to actually finish it first and not make any promises, so enjoy a lil fluff in the meantime <3 just something short and sweet

WC: 3k

Satoru, who is smitten with you from the very moment he first lays eyes on you. Sure, he's had infatuations before, but they were short-lived and typically lasted no longer than a week. A quick fascination, then poof. You, on the other hand – you are different.

And it is plain to see for pretty much everyone. He is normally cocky and outgoing, even during the little fads he’s had, he never let down his façade of bravado. You, though? You melt all his walls until he’s a goopy puddle of a blushing, giggling school girl.

He is whipped, almost to an annoying point. He rambles off Suguru's and Shoko's ears enough times for them to know when he’s about to start singing your praises and avoid him, or distract him somehow (which is a monumental task when his ditzy head is full only of thoughts of you).

Even so, they are conflictingly bewildered and happy for their friend. For him to have found someone that he is interested in for longer than a week – let alone several months, now – is a riveting change of pace. He seems so genuinely delighted any time you two interact, bubbly, dreamy sighs leaving him as hearts dance in his eyes.

He has fallen for you bad.

Satoru, who’s a stuttering disaster when he tries to ask you out on a date, and damn near collapses in relief when you’re able to decipher what the hell he’s going on about and agree to go to the new café that opened up near campus with him.

One date turns into two, then three, then a dozen more that become routine for you. You meet up after classes let out, then head to the café side by side. Or, if one is running late, you have each other’s orders memorized. You even go the extra mile and order him a sweet he hasn’t tried yet to surprise him with when he bursts into the establishment, panting like he ran a marathon. He might as well have, he booked it for the café as soon as he was free, dying to see you.

Satoru, who is somehow in even more shambles when he gets the nerve to ask you to go steady with him, despite the two of you being borderline boyfriend and girlfriend by now. He’s jittery, sweaty, downright vibrating with tense energy when he brings you to the sakura tree near the back of school that you two had laid claim on. Oh, and when you say yes? He’s certain he’s died and gone to heaven. Nothing can explain how an angel like you decided to grace him with your existence as is, let alone love him – even while you called him an idiot and said you thought you two were already dating.

Satoru, who was already protective over you when you first met, dials it to eleven after you agree to being his girlfriend. Gojo Satoru, the strongest man alive, could inspire fear and respect simply by being in the room with his confident and brash nature, completely relaxed and faithful in his skill. But if, gods forbid, something happens to you? Gone is that cocksure attitude. Gone are the coy smirks and passive-aggressive taunting meant to rile others up. Gone is everything but his one track mind that focuses solely on two tasks: protecting you, and destroying whatever harmed you.

Satoru, who spoons you to his chest and watches ASMR, random videos, or movies on your phone with you 'til you both fall asleep. It became routine shortly after you began officially dating. You'll climb into bed first and decide what you want to watch while he finishes his nightly regimen, then he'll slip under the blankets and pull your back flush against his front, prop his chin atop your head, slide a thigh between your legs, and off to cozy dreamland you two go as whatever you choose acts as white noise. 

It brings him an immense amount of comfort, and though he doesn't need as much sleep as normal folks, he'll refuse to leave bed until you're awake (with the exception of any needs he might have to take care of that will only see him away for a couple minutes at most before he’s cradling you in his protective hold again).

Satoru, who salts and peppers your face with endless, ticklish kisses to wake you up, saving the best kiss for when your sleepy, pretty little eyes open: right on your lips. He always wakes up before you do, and spends hours watching your blissful, precious face as you snooze, content and relaxed like a cat with full trust in its human. The comparison always makes him smile, because he, truthfully, envisions you both as being cats all the time. Lazy ones that cuddle in the sun, your smaller form using his ridiculously fluffy and larger one as a pillow-slash-blanket. His tail twined with yours, your ears twitching as he grooms you with kitten licks, ah, the dream.

Satoru, who wants to slap a ring on your finger the very moment he can. You two spend so many days and weeks raving about your imaginary wedding that he so desperately wants to be real, setting up plans, picking out what you would want for decor, scrolling through forum boards for ideas on a wedding dress for you. He is practically more excited at the prospect of getting married than you are, eager to help in every step of the process and more. 'Let me handle all the hard stuff, baby,' he nearly begs. 

He won’t tell you the cost of anything, and insists you go all out. Get the dress you want, don't you dare look at the price tag. Choose the perfect venue, he doesn't care if it's in Japan or fucking Dubai, he'll handle paying for everyone's travel and hotel needs on top of the whole wedding. Only the absolute best for you, nothing less, everything more.

Satoru, who is a train wreck of nervous excitement, anxious anticipation, and giddy trepidation when the day comes for him to propose. He takes you to the perfect location – up a short and easy hiking trail that leads to a cliffside with the most magnificent view of the ocean and setting sun. You think it's just a sweet date trip, until you see the path of tea candles guiding you to a romantically set up picnic blanket, a basket resting atop it, waiting to be opened.

When you turn around to express your shock and confusion, you find Satoru on one knee, looking up at you as if you are the most gorgeous and divine creature to ever exist. He's confident and boisterous, as always, as he plays out his little speech about how much he adores you and wants to keep you by his side, forever and ever, but he's a shaking trash fire inside. A shivering little dog that's relieved he didn't stutter or screw up the speech he practiced a hundred times over and then some.

Satoru, who's thanking every god to ever possibly reside above (and even below) when you throw your arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder as a flood of yeses pours out of you, slurred as you ramble through your tears and tell him you love him, how happy you are, and a plethora of other things that make him genuinely the most elated person to ever live.

Satoru, who slides the brilliant engagement ring he had custom made for you onto your finger; smooth, with an inset blue diamond that shares the same shade as his eyes, nestled in with a dozen tinier crystals in vine-like spirals flowing outward from the center. Swarovski, of course. He made sure that it was all flush with the platinum to ensure it wouldn't snag on anything. 

He was practically breathing down the jeweler's neck during the entire process, needing to guarantee it’s positively perfect for you. And, when he sees the glimmering jewelry cozy on your finger, the evidence of your bond and the next step in your journey to unite as one, he knows he made all the right choices.

Satoru, who only uses the finest material for your matching wedding bands, and has the insides of both engraved with each other's names. Yours in his, his in yours. He has the same jeweler as before (poor guy) design them to have two stripes of platinum within the gold of your rings, delicate and stunning for himself and his wife.

Satoru, who's jubilant and so incredibly ecstatic that you're now his wife that he can't help but tell everyone he knows, everyday, multiple times a day, even those that were at the wedding. He just can't get over it. You're his wife, the girl he's been crushing on since highschool, the girl he swore to make his, and to devote himself to. It feels like an incredible dream, and he worriedly pinches himself from time to time to make sure it's real. 

He did it. He married you, and now you carry his name in yours, in your wedding band, everywhere he could put it to subtly (not really) show you off as the unquestionably precious treasure you are, his wife, and how overjoyed he is that he managed to catch you and keep you.

Satoru, who forgets how to function when you hold up a pair of white and pink sticks on his birthday, from different brands, both showing positive symbols. You. You're pregnant. With his baby. He swears his brain short-circuits because one minute, he's staring at you like you'd grown a second head, and the next, he has you wrapped up in his arms as he showers your forehead, cheeks, nose, jaw, lips, neck, ears, anywhere he can reach, with kisses.

He's a babbling, sniffly mess as he practically crushes you to his chest and coos and preens and weeps with elation. He reveres you like a deity and he’s your loyal and pathetic servant who was blessed beyond measure that you decided to give him the gift of life. He's going to be a father, and it's all because of you.

Satoru, who completely spoils the living hell out of you during your pregnancy (as if he hadn't already been), bending backwards for you for everything. Weird cravings? He's on it. Swollen ankles and nausea? He's rushing to the store for medicine, then rubbing your feet to ease the ache. Insatiable horniness? He's your slave for you to use for your pleasure. Hormones swinging wildly back and forth? He's there with a box of tissues and his firm chest for you to beat on when you feel like you're going crazy. It's his fault you're pregnant, after all. You're doing the hard work of not just carrying his child, but of nurturing it, growing it, letting it take from you to develop strong and healthy. Of course he's going to take care of you.

Satoru, who refuses to let you do any work. You're on indefinite parental leave. From the moment you show him those positive tests, he sits your pretty ass down on the couch and tells you firmly that your only job now is to help your baby develop. He'll take care of everything else, don't even think about lifting a finger.

Satoru, who's there at every appointment with you, clutching your hand tightly as you talk to your doctor about everything you need to know. And when you have your first ultrasound, and see your fetus together for the very first time, he's crying right alongside you.

Satoru, who spent meticulous hours packing a duffel bag with everything you'll both need for when it comes time for you to go into labor. Spare changes of clothes, plenty of water, blankets to keep you warm, a couple pillows, anything and everything. He refuses to go in unprepared. As soon as it's all packed and ready to go by the 8 month mark of your pregnancy, it's in the backseat of the car. The baby car seat is in the trunk of the sleek and top-of-the-line SUV he purchased specifically for your soon-to-be family. He doesn't care that it's taking up space, or that it’s too early, he refuses to go in unprepared.

Satoru, who immediately ditches work the very instant your water breaks. Who gives a fuck if he's in the middle of something important, nothing takes precedence over you and the incoming birth of your infant. He's breaking several driving laws to get you to the hospital, but neither of you care. Not when you're panting in the passenger seat, white-knuckling the grab handle with a palm pressed to your stomach, grunting and crying out in pain any time you have a contraction. It's a miracle he doesn't get pulled over, and he's incredibly thankful (and proud of himself) for thinking of calling the hospital ahead of time so that they're ready for you.

Satoru, whose entire world becomes a blur from the second you reach the hospital, to the second you're crushing his hand in your grip, screaming as you fight to bring his baby into the world. He's letting you yell at him and blame him for the pain you're in, easily accepting and agreeing because it is his fault. 

But while your shaking sobs and shrieks of agony wound his heart beyond any possible measure, he also can't help his elation at knowing it's time, all the waiting has been worth it, every minute spent catering to your every need, want, and desire. He'll do it indefinitely, wait on you hand and foot for the rest of his life, treat you like a queen, because you deserve it and so much more.

Satoru, who's shocked by how well he's holding up when the nurse puts the wrapped up, pudgy little newborn in his arms, gazing down at the tiny being. His tiny being, your tiny being, the fragile and priceless life you both created. Looking down at his kin, his reason for being, he knows he'd do anything and everything to protect you and your child.

Satoru, who sees you, a disheveled and tired disaster, with your hair all tangled, frizzy, and astray, strands stuck to your sweaty skin, your body slack in relief as the hardest part is finally over, watching your husband hold your baby, and he thinks you're more beautiful now than you've ever been. 

You look like you’ve been dragged through hell; your legs are sticky with residue blood, amniotic fluid, placenta, and whatever else that needs to be cleaned off (though your legs are covered with a few layers of blankets to keep you toasty warm while you recover from labor), your face is a little pale and sallow, you're barely clinging to consciousness, and he's marveling at how he's never seen anything or anyone as utterly blest and sacred as you. 

A goddess amongst men, the only one the strongest man in the world would ever willingly bow down to without you even needing to ask.

Satoru, who helps place your baby on your chest, the nurse having opened the blanket for skin-to-skin contact as you feed it, and finally lets himself release all his pent up emotions of raw, unfiltered joy. Every cell, every fiber, every atom in him is dancing in overwhelming happiness. He'd do it all over, again and again, as many times as you'd let him, if it means he gets to see you this blissful and tranquil. The glow of maternity suits you like no other, even in all your unkempt and chaotic glory. 

Satoru, who can't believe he's a dad. He goes above and beyond, insisting he takes care of the baby at night so you can sleep – he doesn't need as much rest as others do, after all. He murmurs to his newborn about how much he cherishes and adores you, how much you mean to him, how you're the best wife and mommy a man could ever ask for and more. He reads the kiddo bedtime stories to help it sleep, feeds it, changes it, whatever it is that is needed, he's there and doing it. 

On top of that, he continues to be your doting, devoted, caring husband. He makes sure you're taking your vitamins, takes you to all your postpartum appointments, aids you through your subsequent depression, all of it. He's sworn himself to you for life, not just in this timeline and universe, but in any and every single one of them.

He made and said his vows with purpose and conviction. He meant every word, and upholds them like his life depends on it. Because, in his mind, it does.

Satoru, who is patient with you, and firmly commands you to not push yourself to do things you can't do while you're still in recovery. He doesn't care if he has to wait months or even years for you to be ready to lay with him again, he'll wait it out. He might not be a patient man, but for you, he'd wait until all the stars die. 

Oh, but you, darling little minx that you are, do your best to take care of him, too. Even when he urges you to rest, or not worry about it, or anything other arguments he might have against it, you tend to him in whatever way you can. Touching, sucking, rough and heavy petting, whatever it takes. You refuse to leave him alone to suffer through months and months of dryness with no relief save for his hand and the toy you surprised him with to help take the edge off.

Satoru, who can't be more grateful to you. You're more than his wildest dreams, the perfect wife, the perfect mother, the perfect person as a whole in the entirety of the universe. He really can't help boasting about being the Chosen One, because he really is, if the cosmos decided to gift him with you.

Satoru, who swears to take care of you for the rest of your lives, and does well on his promise.

Satoru, who fights for the sake of you and your kin alone. He refuses to leave you in any way, shape, or form. He refuses to let the world be a danger to any of you. He refuses to have anything happen to his family. Nothing will tear you apart, not now, not ever.

Satoru, who loves you more than the sun, the moon, and all the stars combined.

—-—-•(-•ʚɞ•-)•—-—-

Banner by cafekitsune ♥ thank you for reading

[justkpopjokes]

SVT’s reaction to your first kiss

A/N: Whoops I took 6 years to write this,,, Thank you to my mutuals who pushed me to do this all those years ago 😂 Kept this all fluff!! Requests open btw ^^

Ft. gender-neutral!reader

Initiates the kiss first: S.Coups, Joshua, Jun, DK, Mingyu, The8, Dino

S.Coups

Wants the kiss to be perfect and overthinks it a bit because of that

Keeps staring at your lips in the moments leading up to it to the point where you call him out on it

…Which prompts him to finally go for it and lean in and kiss you

Holds your waist to keep you steady (thank goodness because your knees are weak all of a sudden)

Pulls back quickly, not wanting to overdo it, and checks that your reaction is good before kissing you again

Joshua

Is super romantic about it!

He’d def be the guy who waits to have your first kiss until he’s 100% sure you’re both ready

He plans to kiss you after a date and makes sure it’s in a good place!! It has to be an appropriate setting where there aren’t people around to gawk at you both

Asks you if he can kiss you when you’re sitting close to each other

Smiles as he pulls away, watching your reaction to make sure you liked it

Jun

Your first kiss happens before you’re even dating

You watch him kiss in his drama and joke that he looks like a bad kisser just to get on his nerves

He gets (playfully) upset with you like “excuseeee me? I’m a good kisser! I’ll kiss you to prove it!”

Acts out the kiss scene from his drama with you just to show you how good it is

Is all cocky afterward because you’re so flustered LMAO

DK

His first kiss with you is out of excitement! No planning whatsoever

One of you had just gotten some good news—I say one of you because it doesn’t matter who; either of you could have something good happen and he’d be equally ecstatic either way

You’re both jumping out of joy and he decides on a whim to grab your face and give you a big kiss

It’s dramatic and his eyes are in crescents as he smiles at you and your cute reaction

Hugs you tightly right after since he’s happy he got to kiss you

Mingyu

Would kiss you first unless you purposely try to beat him to it lmao

But most likely he kisses you first because every time you even think about kissing him, he makes himself taller to joke about it

As in, if he catches you both standing or sitting really close, he’ll say “heh. Seems like a perfect time to kiss” and puckers his lips before straightening his back so your faces aren’t that close anymore

So he totally catches you off guard when he says it again but actually kisses you this time

Slides his hand into your hair at the back of your head as he tries to deepen the kiss

The8

You get a little tipsy while drinking with him one evening and ask him to kiss you

He laughs and brushes it off at first, but later notices you keep staring at his lips longingly

Is a gentleman and asks you if you’d really like a kiss just to make sure you consent to it

Doesn’t kiss you unless he’s absolutely sure you’re just tipsy and not super drunk (he wants you to remember it)

It’s not necessarily deep, but it’s a long kiss; he wants to take his time with you

Dino

Wants to kiss you first and tries to be all suave about it

Is suspiciously nice to you beforehand to ensure you won’t reject him when he initiates it

Gets lost in your eyes right before he’s about to kiss you, which makes you realize what’s happening

Manages to man up enough to hold your chin and press his lips to yours

Gets gutsy and doesn’t pull away for a while, wanting to kiss you for as long as possible

Is kissed first: Jeonghan, Hoshi, Wonwoo, Woozi, Seungkwan, Vernon

Jeonghan

Your first kiss with him is unexpected for both of you lol

He is quite surprised when you turn his head to kiss him before he can leave from your date

You do it on impulse, so it’s short and he has no time to react during it

You stare at him after you pull away to see his reaction so he stares back at you in shock for a moment before a smile spreads on his face and he asks if you’d like another

Smiles against your lips :))

Hoshi

Blushes really hard before getting super excited

He’s been waiting for it!!!!

Gives you a lot of smaller pecks all over your face as he hugs you because he’s glad he finally can

He might kiss you deeply later, but honestly, he just wants to give you a lot of them first

Absolutely over the moon and brags about kissing you to the guys

Wonwoo

Has been meaning to kiss you for a little while, he just hasn’t found the right moment

So when you kiss him and interrupt him while he’s talking one evening, he freezes and doesn’t know how to react for a moment

Gets a little shy when you laugh at him about his reaction

But he quickly recovers and quietly pulls you in for another (longer) kiss

Thank goodness you’re in private right now because he doesn’t hold back now that you’ve started it!!

Woozi

Your first kiss with him is super casual

(In reality he’s trying to hide how flustered he is)

You’re leaving the studio and he tries to give you a hug goodbye when you gave him a quick kiss on the lips instead

He has kissed your head before, so you don’t really make this kiss a big deal

He smiles and gives you another kiss on the lips to really savour your lips before you leave

Seungkwan

Asks for a kiss in a joking way, not really expecting you to agree

His heart starts racing when you get close and hold his cheeks to give him a kiss

Has a bit of a loud reaction out of shock but ends up giggling about it as he holds your cheeks for another

Has that adorable blush on his face as you exchange kisses for a bit

Asks you for kisses all the time after that day

Vernon

Maybe I’m just projecting…I don’t think he would think about kisses much, so he’s flustered af when you do kiss him

His face goes beet red and he wants to hide when you suddenly kiss him while sort of in public

He liked it a little too much and has a silly reaction as he tries to brush off how embarrassed he is about his reaction

Pulls you into another kiss the moment you arrive at your place, saying he wants to redo it properly

Keeps your noses pressed together after and gives you a satisfied gummy smile

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[12:22 pm]

Husband!Taeyong’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He sighed, deciding this would be a good time for a break from boxing up everything you both decided you were going to donate. His brows furrows seeing your name on his screen. Weren’t you in the house with him? Why wouldn’t you just come tell him instead of texting him? ‘You’re not going to believe what I just found!’ He read with a smile.

He heard your hurried steps on the hardwood floor of the hall and soon enough you were standing in the doorway of your shared bedroom with a bright smile and a colorful book in your hands. As you walked closer, Taeyong reached for you grabbing your hips to guide you to stand between his spread thighs. “What did you find, honey?” Taeyong asks, pressing a kiss to your arm.

“My diary! It’s got some entries from our first 2 years together!” You beam.

“Oooh, juicy stuff?” Taeyong asks with a quirked brow.

You clear your throat and crack the journal open, “this is from 5 years ago, ready?” Taeyong nods, but his mind is reeling, you guys didn’t know each other five years ago, what could you have written about him? Your voice interrupts his train of thought, “Today, I went to the cafe with Minho. While Minho and I were waiting for our drinks, the most handsome guy I’ve ever laid eyes on came up and started talking to Minho. I guess they took a class together a while ago. This guy didn’t look at me the whole time, but I think I’m in love. Who would ever believe that I saw a man this handsome in real life and not a magazine? Even though he didn’t look at me, I’m pretty sure I’m going to think about him for the rest of my life. Minho said his name is Taeyong. I’m writing this so I have some happy memory of a handsome guy to return to when I’m sad.”

You look down at your husband, “I guess I was a little dramatic, huh?”

“I don’t even remember that! What else do you have?” Taeyong asks eagerly. He wishes he could go back in time to introduce himself properly, he could have had a whole extra year with you. Ugh!

“This is from four years ago, from that dinner that Minho held. I wrote, oh my literal god! You are never going to believe this! The handsome guy from the cafe was at Minho’s party and he spoke to me! There’s like a whole row of exclamation points here,” both you and Taeyong snort out a laugh before continuing, “his voice was so gentle and his hand was sooooo soft when we shook hands. We made conversation about school and our interests. He told me he likes to make music and make art and I told him I’d love to see his work, talk about thirsty. He had a really cute smile on his face and I swear I saw him blush! He told me he’d like to show me and before the night ended we exchanged numbers. I think there’s a higher possibility of us falling in love now. I hope he’s not actually a creep.”

Taeyong pulls you into his lap as he laughs loudly, “I remember that meeting, thank goodness. I remember that you were really cute and shy. And that Minho can’t cook to save his life. I was really excited to text you after that, but I wanted to be chill.”

“I think I ended up writing that after a week of nothing from you I gave up hope a little. I thought maybe you were like a figment of my imagination or maybe I read into it too much,” you sigh as if you’re reliving the memories while turning through the now warped pages.

For a while, the two of you sit there in comfortable silence reading through your entries. He reads and laughs good-naturedly ay the entry that describes the anxiety before your first date in detail and in drawing. Half the page is a messy scribble of words he can barely read, and the other half is scribbles that he can very well imagine you screaming while you drew. There’s a whole page of scribbles and ‘ahhhhhh’ filling up the whole page after the first date/first kiss which makes him smile softly while pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

He finds himself holding you closer, his arms around your waist tightening as his eyes pore over the words of a three-page long entry that came after your first big fight. You’d tried to skip past this, but he pulled the book out of your hold. ‘Tonight, Taeyong and I got in our first fight and I don’t think my heart has ever hurt this badly. I just don’t understand why he left! All I told him was that I needed some space to think and he took that as me wanting him gone. He just turned on his heel and left! I just wanted like 5 minutes to gather myself! Why would he just leave?’ Taeyong’s thumb sadly runs over the obvious mark of a tear drop.

He remembered this fight, he could remember the reason, but he remembers the aftermath. He remembers all the work that came after so that you two could communicate effectively. He remembers promising to never walk away in the middle of the fight and to never go three days thought talking to you again.

He closes the journal as sets it beside him while pulling you into an embrace, “we’ve made it far haven’t we?”

“Yeah, now I don’t freak out like scared chicken before our dates,” you laugh into his chest.

Taeyong laughs deeply, “I meant our communication, but sure.”

“Taeyong, we’ve been together for like four years, of course we’ve learned to communicate. We’ve learned a lot of things about each other. Each and every thing I learn just makes me love you more.”

He furrows his brows, “you didn’t like it when I bleached my eyebrows.”

“Oh my god, yeah! That wasn’t a good look. I hated that!” You exclaim, standing from his lap to assess the work he’s gotten done. “You’ve done a good job so far,” you nod.

“We’ve done a good job so far,” Taeyong stresses.

“That was cute, but I meant the clothes, honey.”

[cr4yolaas]

every year, with you — kageyama tobio

content: timeskip tobio, established relationship, self indulgent, fem reader, angst if you squint but mostly fluff, not proofread

note: happy bday to me !! i’m not celebrating irl, so this is my way of appreciating the day :) (p.s. mezzo forte will be updated eventually — i unfortunately don’t have the energy for anything more than this rn 😓)

tobio doesn’t usually celebrate his birthday.

he isn’t attracted to the notion of a sweet sixteen, nor does he find the idea of bar hopping at twenty one appealing. he’s content with whatever is below the bare minimum — quick greetings, maybe one small gift, and a normal day. that’s all he needs.

as such, he doesn’t find it necessary to do much for his friends’ birthdays. he’ll usually purchase something small, like a plushy or a gift card. it’s simple. it’s easy.

but with you, his routine shifts. he marks down your birth date on his phone as soon as he catches wind of it, and in the weeks leading up to the day, it fails to slip his mind. he wants to do something more than simple, something more than easy.

after all, he thinks you deserve more than that.

if you were to peer into his notes app and figure out the password for a locked note with an ambiguous title, you’d find a list of everything you’ve ever mentioned — the show you watched religiously for two months straight, a clothing collaboration you were particularly excited for, the animated character whose merchandise is littered throughout your bedroom — all neatly listed for him to remember. the contents vary; some items are specific, like the shade of the lip tint you searched up a week ago, and others are vague, like ‘silly white mouse with big round eyes.’

tobio finds that, when it comes to you, he wants to give you the world. he wants to cradle you gently in his arms, as if you’re the most important figure in the world (to him, you are). he wants to make your special day just that — special.

the summer heat pierces through your air conditioning, even in the middle of night. your boyfriend has yet to return home, presumably preoccupied with volleyball practice, and you decide that tomorrow you’ll greet him with extra kisses as a reward for working so hard.

but as soon as your hand flicks the lights off, the front door squeaks open. you’re silent. soft footsteps thump against the floor, and if you listen hard enough, you can hear tobio’s heavy breathing in the kitchen. your rationality overpowers whatever yearning has festered within your heart throughout the day during his absence. a soft wave of quietude washes over you as you lay down, opting to wait for him to come to you when he’s ready.

it comes sooner than later, however. tobio slowly opens the door to your shared bedroom, assuming you’re fast asleep given the time. he’s a little startled to find you awake.

“i got you something,” he whispers against your forehead. he doesn’t realize you just laid down — he’s quiet, as if there’s sleep riddled in your system. but there isn’t. he doesn’t know that. and yet, he’s still careful in his movements. his hands reach to brush away hair from your eyes, and his lips ghost against your skin as he stamps his affections onto your flesh.

he slips away for a moment to carry something up onto the bed. it weighs heavy in his hands, although you can’t quite make out what it is in the dark of the room. “well, it’s a lot of somethings,” he muses while he reaches around for the bedside lamp. when the warm light floods the bed, you see it — a gift basket, overfilled with everything you could possibly like. you look at tobio and find his ears dusted with pink and his eyes cast aside. “i wasn’t sure specifically what to get you. so… i got a lot of different things, in hopes that you’d like at least one of them.”

it’s hard not to laugh at him (endearingly, of course). “tobio, you put all of my favorite things in here. i’m not sure why i wouldn’t like it.”

his lips, albeit chapped from his troubles of the day, curl up into a smitten smile. “there’s more, by the way. it just didn’t fit into the basket. and i’m way too tired to bring everything here right now,” he speaks as he curls up on his side of the bed. his athletic wear clings to his muscles from the coalescence of sweat on his skin, but nonetheless, he finds himself clinging to you. the gift basket sits on the table beside you, and in the morning when you arise, you’ll thank him for it, again, but with a little more energy.

“happy birthday,” tobio mutters into your shoulder. he looks like a sleepy baby. “i love you.”

[lcriedlastnight]

first couple of dates reader is super reserved and shy and Lando is just unabashedly flirting in the most attractive way ever

tysm anon, my first lando request! ilysm <3 also shy reader resonates so well with me for some reason.

tw: fem!reader, swears, not spell checked, lmk if anything else.

w/c: 1.8k

you found out on the first date how confident in himself lando was. you knew (and liked) how he was just unapologetically himself at every point in time. it was definitely a green flag of yours. only sometimes it was a little much to handle.

this next date lando had been very traditional, seeing as it was your second date. he had decided to take you to one of his favourite restaurants in monaco. he left you with very strict instructions over text, the day before, to dress as fancy as you possibly could. so you did just that and went last minute dress shopping with your friend. it all being her idea of course.

she finds this lovely blush pink dress that in her words “is just so you” so you get it and wear it to dinner.

lando was already at the restaurant waiting outside for you. he had offered to pick you up but your friend wanted to stay and help you get ready, you didn’t agree easily though. you’ve never seen anyone’s mouth drop open as quickly as you seen lando’s open when you got out of your friend’s car. this, obviously, brings a bright red blush to your cheeks, complimenting the dress even more in lando’s opinion.

“hi.” you mumble, shyly. not used to a gaze as piercing as lando’s.

“hey, pretty girl! don’t you look stunning?” lando grins happily as he addresses you with such lovely pet names with such ease it makes you melt. he sticks a hand out to link it with yours then holds them both high above your head. “give me a spin then, honey.”

you do as he asks and spin around, showing him every angle. when you face lando again his smile seems to be even bigger than when you first came, if that was even possible. it looked like it was sore with how hard he was smiling.

“god, now i feel underdressed. when i said fancy i didn’t mean princess of monaco fancy!” lando jokes. you know it’s a joke, a compliment even. a lovely, sweet compliment. and if you were a normal girl, you would’ve giggled sweetly and thanked him, then you would both be on your way to sit down. but you weren’t a ‘normal’ girl. you were a bit shyer than most. so instead you avoid eye contact with lando and splutter out what could be picked together to make some sort of thank you.

even though it’s the second date, lando seems to understand you already and instead of pointing out your embarrassment, he pushes it to the side and holds his arm out for you to hold.

“c’mon, let’s go inside. you must be starving. i heard that beauty makes you hungry.” you were not surviving this. where was this lando on the first date?

the waiter helps you both find your table, which of course has the most gorgeous view of the water. you sit across from each other and sit in a comfortable silence, scanning the menu’s. your eyes dart across, reading all these dishes, none of them too fancy. another thing for you to be shy about, was the fact that you were an extremely picky eater. you were very wary of restaurant or even food related dates to begin with, but lando is a very difficult person to say no to.

“d’you know what’re getting?” lando asks from across the table. you think he’s been staring at you for a while.

“i’m not sure yet.” you reply, a little quieter than lando, still loud enough to hear over the usual bustle of a restaurant. you tell him this in the hopes he doesn’t ask about your food preferences.

it’s like lando can read your mind though as he asks. “are you alright? do you not like any of the food? we can go somewhere else if you like?” the way he switches from flirty to caring in seconds makes your head spin.

“no! no. you went through all this trouble to come here. and it’s your favourite restaurant.” you refuse his sweet offers.

“so you don’t like any of the food? are you a picky eater?” lando asks, the smile returning to his almost as quickly as it left. his voice not menacing or teasing as he asks you the dreaded question.

you can feel your body heat up at the question, and before you can even try and scramble your brain for an answer, probably denying it lando speaks up.

“if you are it’s okay, honey. i can ask the waiter for anything you want. even if i wasn’t a regular here, i’m sure they would do it for a girl as pretty as you.” and he was right back into that flirty ways from before.

“right,” you nod, purposefully ignoring his compliment. “thank you. i know it’s childish but i only really eat chicken.” you try to joke about it but it comes out awkward and forced. lando laughs anyway.

you both make small talk until with waiter comes back to take your orders. lando doesn’t even give you a chance to speak to the waiter to try and explain yourself before he’s asking if you could get some chicken nuggets and fries. the waiter nods, like it’s no problem. because it isn’t.

“and to drink?” the waiter asks.

lando shifts his gaze to you. his eyes wandering yours, wondering if you were alright to speak to the waiter and order for yourself.

“d’you like wine too, honey? or we could just have water?” lando offers, trying to help you out, which you appreciate so much.

“water is good, please.” you ask politely.

“two glasses of water of us then!” lando tells the waiter as the menu’s are collected and the orders are given to the kitchen.

you wait until you know the waiter is gone before you speak to lando.

“you didn’t need to get water if you didn’t want to. you could’ve gotten wine.” your thumbs dance with each other on top of the table. lando’s reach across to pull them apart from each other and hold them in his own, thumbs swiping gently across your soft skin.

“i know. i just wanted to get what you got. makes you like me more if we like the same things.” lando teases. you laugh a little and it looks like someone has just told lando he’s won his first championship.

“i’m thinking of becoming a comedian. i’m going to quit racing.” he tells you. the conversation switch gives you whiplash.

“what, really? why? i don’t think you should quit. you’re really good.” you try to compliment him back. the boy’s cheesy grin is the greatest payment for that moment of bravery.

“i’m gonna quit so i can make you laugh every minute of every day because your laugh is my new favourite sound in the whole world.” how does he even think of this shit, you think to yourself, through a wide smile and rosy cheeks (once again.)

you both chat away throughout the dinner. lando sending about a million and a half flirty comments and pet names throughout, each one sending you into a tizzy every time. lando just watches your cheeks warm and that shy smile grace your lips.

once you both had ate and payed the bill, lando suggests just walking around for a while.

“basic, i know. i don’t think any date idea could compare to how wonderful you are.” he sighs, jokingly as if his idea actually pained him. of course this causes you to fluster again and hide your face.

lando only laughs and grabs your hand, taking you a walk along the water. you open up to him, more than the previous dates and late night texts. the boy is quiet as you talk, telling him about your childhood and what it was like for you growing up. he asks you questions seeing the way yours eyes twinkle underneath the stars as you perk up even more at the mention of your childhood dog.

“you’re so pretty, honey.” lando admits in a hushed whisper, like it was a secret he was scared to tell and not a sentence he’s said about a hundred times tonight. you both had stopped at a nearby bench to watch the ocean.

before you can even get the chance to get embarrassed he asks “can i kiss you? please?”. and he sounds desperate, like you’re depriving him of the air he needs so badly to breathe properly.

so you nod your head shyly. lando’s hands are quick to trap your head in between them, holding you still as he leans in. this is yours and lando’s first kiss together and lando kisses you like you’ll break if he touches you any harsher. it’s the sweetest thing a boy has ever done in your entire life.

you tell him so once he’s reluctantly pulled away from you. his brows raise in surprise.

“guess i’m just gonna need to top this every date we go on then.” he leans in again because there’s no way he’s not using his free time with you now not kissing you. plus he just loves to see you flustered every time he pulls away.

and that was only the second date.

by the fifth date you had just about gotten your embarrassment under wraps when lando invites you to some mclaren event. he tells you it’s fancy dress but not to go dress shopping again as he’s gotten a tie that matches so well with the dress you wore on your second date. your surprised he remembered the exactly colour because when he turns up at you door, the shade match is perfect.

your halfway through the lovely charity event and lando has not stopped touching you the entire night. even when he has to stop to talk to his teammate, oscar or his team principal, andrea, he had his arm wrapped around your waist or resting on the small of your back. the feeling of his hand resting on your back made you feel like you were his.

you don’t talk much compared to lando, who yaps away all night. his number one topic of conversation being you. he talked about how you met to some random couple he’s never seen before. he rambled about how pretty you were to mclaren’s very own ceo, zak brown. you’re cheeks stay red the entire time, zak leaving after about ten minutes because he felt sorry for you and your embarrassment.

“how you doing, honey? you alright?” lando asks as he joins you at the bar. he’s been pulled away and promised you he’s join you in ten minutes. his hands snaking around your waist, their home for the night it seems.

“yeah, oscar and lily are lovely.” you smile at lando. “thank you for inviting me.”

lando beams back at you. “couldn’t do tonight without my girl, could i?”.

“your girl?” you ask shyly.

“if you wanna be” lando tried to ask casual but he genuinely thinks that if you don’t say yes, he would cry himself to sleep for the rest of the year.

you wrap your arms around him and hide in his chest. “my shy girl, hm?” lando mumbles into your hair.

[moonlinos]

It’s so tasty, come and chase me

♡ Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × fem!reader

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of food

♡ Word count: 2.3k

♡ Synopsis: It’s your first birthday with Hyunjin as your boyfriend, and he wants to give you the best day since you were born. He racks his brain, wondering what’s the perfect way to impress you, and ultimately settles on surprising you with a homemade birthday cake. That’s romantic, right? Too bad you accidentally ruin his plans in the best way possible.

♡ A/N: Based off a request by anon (happy birthday! 🩷) Title from Red Velvet’s Ice Cream Cake bc we all know that song ain’t about cake. I quickly wrote this to try and get out of my writing slump, and I think it worked lol so I’ll hopefully be able to start posting other longer stories and requests in a couple of weeks 🧚‍♀️

You and Hyunjin began dating exactly two hours after your birthday.

Being acquaintances for long due to being in the same friend group, he’d been a part of your birthday celebrations for a few years. But you were never really that close — he’d always been too shy to approach you, and you spent an awfully long time thinking he hated your guts. It was a drunken confession that made you both realize the mutual crush you had been hiding for far too long.

Hyunjin cursed himself inwardly for taking so long to properly ask you out. He sat with your friends and discussed birthday plans with you, then watched as you enjoyed your surprise party. He had a pout on his lips throughout the entire night, desperately wishing he could openly hold and kiss you in front of your friends. The silly secret you both had decided to keep from them until things were official between you drove him to the brink of insanity. You two were skirting around the big question for a while, and it wasn’t until Hyunjin’s veins were flowing with quite a lot of Soju that he finally mustered up the courage to do it.

Only he was too late — it was already 2 a.m, and no longer your birthday.

“You’ll have to put up with me for another year if you really wanna be my boyfriend on my birthday,” you told him with a grin.

Hyunjin was determined to make your first birthday together as a couple unforgettable, even through simple gestures. These two days were incredibly meaningful to him; the day you were born and the day he finally got to call you his, one after the other.

Too bad the universe seems to love conspiring against him.

He put on his best near-death voice and faked coughs over the phone, trying to convince you he was sick. You were understandably worried, but he assured you he would be fine after taking some medicine. He needed alone time to figure out how to bake a cake, and your presence would be a tempting distraction.

Hyunjin was halfway through frosting your cake for the third time when the sound of his door being unlocked made him jump.

Perhaps it wasn’t the universe’s animosity towards him after all, but rather his own stupidity for not remembering that you had the code to his door lock.

He stood there motionless, feeling like a teenager who had been caught doing something wrong, his hand clutching the spatula tightly as you eyed him with confusion. You raised a brow at him.

“Weren’t you dying?”

“Why are you here?” Hyunjin all but whines, and you close the door behind you with a chuckle.

“I’m here because you told me you were dying,” you explain. “Why the fuck are you frosting a cake?” He doesn’t answer, and after a beat and a half, you grasp the situation and your mouth falls open. “It’s for my birthday, isn’t it?”

Hyunjin drops the spatula on the counter with a loud clink. “No.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You grin at the sight before you. “That’s so cute.”

“It’s not for your birthday,” He insists, promptly removing his apron. “I lost a bet and owe Seungmin a cake.”

You roll your eyes. “Hyunjin, you’re a terrible liar.”

“Fine,” He grumbles, glaring at the lumpy, messy frosting spread on the cake. He was so sure he was nailing it this time, but the more he looks at it, the more it looks borderline inedible. “I wanted to surprise you, be like super boyfriend material and bake your birthday cake myself. Turns out I’m fucking awful at it.”

“It’s not that bad…” Your voice trails off, the telltale rise in pitch whenever you lie betraying you. Hyunjin shoots you a glance, narrowing his eyes. “Okay, so it is a little crooked, and the frosting is a bit clumpy but I can fix that—”

He cuts you off, drawing out your name with a pout. “No, I’m the one who’s supposed to make you a pretty cake. It’s your special day, I should be the one doing things for you.”

“It’s not my birthday till midnight,” you argue, tossing your bag onto the floor and gently nudging Hyunjin to the side, making room for you on his counter. “Let me help.”

You take the spatula in your hands, ignoring Hyunjin’s loud protests and trying your best to smooth out the thick layer of frosting Hyunjin had spread onto the cake. Your brows knit together in concentration as your boyfriend continues to grumble beside you, eventually moving his nagging to the counter behind you. You hear the water running and the clinking of dishes as you finally start making progress, before Hyunjin’s hands are gripping your hips and pushing you against the counter.

You furrow your brows, ready to complain about him disrupting you, but he’s pressing his lips to your neck before you can mutter out a word. Hyunjin’s breath as he mumbles against your skin tickles you, your body instinctively jolting, causing your hand to slip and mess up the frosting (again).

“Hyunjin,” you berate him, and his only response is to hum. “This frosting is already borderline unusable, if you—”

“Hey!” He snaps, and you can hear the pout on his voice. “Don’t insult my frosting.”

“Then stop disrupting me.”

Hyunjin shakes his head, his body pressing against yours.

“You’re the one who ruined my surprise,” he corrects you, “So if you wanna decorate this cake so badly, you’ll have to do it while I disrupt you,” he mimics your voice. You roll your eyes while a huff of amusement slips from your lips.

“Be my guest,” you shrug.

Hyunjin simply buries his face in the crook of your neck, his lips curling into a grin against your skin and igniting a smile on your own face. You bite the inside of your cheek, turning your focus back to the disastrous cake. But your smile only widens at the sight of the decorations thrown around on the countertop; heart-shaped sprinkles, various candles and your favorite candies. The image of Hyunjin clumsily following a recipe, his pretty face dusted in flour, making frosting from scratch simply to make your birthday cake more special has your heart swelling with love.

But just as you spread more frosting on the cake, your concentration is shattered by the sudden touch of Hyunjin’s hand sliding under your skirt and into your panties.

“Excuse me?”

“I told you I was gonna disrupt you,” he shrugs, pressing a chaste kiss to your shoulder. “But I’m sure it won’t work. You’re too focused on the cake, anyway.”

You scoff. Hyunjin really is such a menace when he wants to be — no wonder you spent such a long time thinking he hated you. Little did you know that behind his teasing and cold exterior lay such a sweet and sensitive man.

He remained still for a while, his hand nonchalantly cupping your cunt while he watched you try your best to make the cake look presentable.

“You missed a spot,” he points out, one single finger gliding along your folds. You hiss.

“Fuck off.”

Hyunjin chuckles, the digit now teasing your already slick entrance. You wait for a minute, then two, then three, but he remains still. Tightening your hold on the spatula, you buck your hips toward his hand, willing him to do something.

But he doesn’t, resting his chin on your shoulder with a lazy sigh instead.

“Is this your best attempt at disrupting me?”

He hums. “Focus on the cake, baby. Weren’t you so excited about fixing it?”

You can tell he is undoubtedly a bit upset at you. This cake was his birthday surprise to you, after all. You had essentially fucked it up, taking over the task without him even asking you for help.

So you nod slowly, turning your face to shoot him a small smile. “Can you help me? It’ll be better if we do it together.”

A grin tugs at the corner of his lips, and his finger finally pushes into you, your walls immediately clenching around it.

“I’d love to help you.”

With his other hand, Hyunjin scrambles with the sprinkles packet before finally tearing it open. Cursing under his breath, he watches some of the red and pink hearts escape from the packaging and scatter across the counter. You’re ready to tease him, but a moan swallows your voice as his finger curls inside you, pressing against the spot that has you almost dropping the spatula onto the cake.

Your hands grip the counter as another finger slips inside of you, then a third, all while Hyunjin casually dusts a handful of sprinkles over the white frosting. You could feel yourself leaking around his fingers, the heel of his palm grazing over your clit, and your vision goes slightly blurry watching how the heart shapes cascade from his hand onto the cake.

“I think those candies would look nice with the sprinkles, don’t you think?” Hyunjin asks, his breath brushing against the shell of your ear, causing goosebumps to ripple across your entire body. You simply nod, too focused on the way his fingers stretch you, igniting a wildfire inside your chest with each pump of his wrist. “Could you grab the bag for me, baby?”

You nod and mindlessly reach out in front of you, until your eyes land on the bag sitting across the counter, just barely out of reach. You stretch out your fingers, but Hyunjin circles your waist with his left arm and pulls you flush against his body before you can get a hold of it.

“Hyunjin,” you whine, feeling the warmth of his chest as it rumbles against your back with a chuckle.

“Grab the bag for me, hm?”

You let out a shuddering breath and reach out toward the candy package, your body bending over the marble counter, the thick outline of Hyunjin’s cock pressing against your ass. As soon as your trembling fingers wrap around the bag, his hand leaves your cunt and pushes your soaked panties to the side.

He slides his length along your folds, hovering over your body, the swollen head of his cock catching against your clit evoking a heavy sigh from your lips.

“Go on,” Hyunjin prompts, “Let’s finish decorating your cake.”

Clumsily, you pull yourself up, forearms resting against the counter as you tear the bag open. With shaky hands, you slowly tip the bag over, lightly sprinkling the colorful candies across the cake. Until Hyunjin rolls his hips forward, plunging into you. Your breath catches in your throat as he fills you with his thick length, pumping into you in full force, causing your body to writhe in his arms and sending candies flying out of the bag, scattering across the cake and countertop.

“Fuck, Hyunjin,” you grunt when his hand slides down your body to trace circles around your swollen clit. “The ca- the fucking cake.”

Hyunjin lets out a hearty laugh before pressing his lips to your neck, sucking the skin between his teeth, each thrust of his hips slamming your body against the counter. Your eyes flutter closed, a haze of lust wrapping around you while your climax ripples through your body. Hyunjin shudders as your cunt clenches around him, squeezing as he hastily rams into you, his grip on your waist tightening with each stroke.

“Gonna come,” he rasps in your ear, grabbing a handful of your hair and tugging your head back to look at him, his eyes completely clouded over. “Where do you want it?”

“Inside,” you whimper, barely registering the way your fingers graze across the forgotten cake when you feel his cock twitch at your words. He mutters a string of curses through clenched teeth before flooding you with his warmth.

You slowly catch your breaths, Hyunjin pressing light kisses across your face with a contented hum as his cock slowly softens inside of you.

And then both your eyes land on the cake.

Somehow, the sprinkles melted, leaving behind a garish kaleidoscope of colors, and the candies adorned more of Hyunjin’s counter than the cake itself. The already sloppy-looking cake had three lines running across it, and the sticky white frosting clinging to your fingertips serves as undeniable evidence of your guilt. You grimace, mentally bracing yourself for the disappointed look in Hyunjin’s eyes.

Instead, his loud laughter you love so much echoes in your ears.

“That’s so fucking ugly,” he slurs between giggles.

You frown, turning to look at him, watching tears gather in his lashes as his laughter slowly fades away. He presses a kiss to your agape lips, wrapping both arms around your body before resting his forehead against yours.

“I love it,” he assures you after taking in your befuddled expression. “We made it together. Plus, we had a lot of fun doing it, yeah?” He grins before crashing his lips against yours again.

Your birthday party was the same as it has been for a couple of years; just you and your friend group gathered around your apartment’s rooftop. Except this year, you had the pleasure of watching people’s bewildered looks as they glanced at your birthday cake, proudly displayed on a plastic folding table.

“The fuck is that cake?” Jeongin asked, and Hyunjin burst out laughing as soon as the words left your friend’s lips.

After singing happy birthday, you were surprised to find that the cake — although an assault on the eyes — tasted quite good. You were quick to praise Hyunjin, who sheepishly admitted to using a store-bought box cake mix.

A while later, you two discreetly escaped the chatter and laughter from your friends. While you watched the stars, Hyunjin’s attention was fixated on the passing seconds on his phone. He counted down from five, and at the stroke of midnight, he pressed his lips to yours, smiling into the kiss.

“Happy one year together,” he whispered against your lips.

“Congratulations for putting up with me,” you beamed, and Hyunjin feigned an exasperated sigh, his lips curling into a grin.

“Can’t believe I’ll have to go through that again if I want to be your boyfriend on your birthday next year.”

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist, @jazziwritesthings, @seungseung-minmin, @yourcvndx, @hynjinnnnnnnie, @vlctorriaa, @yongbokkiesworld, @kiensecent, @redstayrosie, @binniesbabygirl, @pynchkilledme

[mysteria157]

Undone

nanami kento x black fem reader

wc- 2.8k

warnings- angst, heavy themes, mental health and healing, the fluff that nanami brings.

a/n: I have been feeling like poo these past few days and trying to find my voice in writing. So I created a little drabble that helped me feel better. hopefully, it does for others as well. happy reading

divider: @saradika | JJK Masterlist

He hasn’t heard from you in days.

Granted, that first date was 12 weeks ago, but Nanami is used to the string of texts between you that is consistently pinging—a feat that Nanami never thought to reach. He’s used to the late night phone calls, the FaceTimes that are meaningless because he just wants to look at you. But for the first time, you turned him down.

Three days ago, on the morning of a nice dinner he had planned, you called with a scratchy voice, “I’m just really tired today, but I’ll be shipshape in no time!” You had insisted.

With vigilance sewn into his body since the day he could remember, Nanami notices right away something is wrong. Maybe it was the distant crack of your words. Maybe it was the fact that you cleared your throat once, no—two times to make yourself sound as professional as possible. As if Nanami is an employer and not the man you’ve decided to let into his life.

Regardless, he was as polite as always. Content to change the subject and send you well wishes before hanging up. The meme texted to his phone five minutes later, sweetening whatever sour concoction had manifested in his belly from your phone call. But still…Nanami knows. So he waits.

He waits three days of agonizing silence before a maelstrom of worry finally claws its way to the surface of his pool of impassivity. He stops by the market first and grabs ingredients. There’s a soup recipe you love—a recipe he soaked up like a sponge as he hovered near you in your kitchen during your first date. He’ll make that.

On his way out of the market, his eyes catch a bouquet of Asian lilies. Sunset orange petals adorned with long dark stamen. He picks up a modest bouquet—something large enough to make you smile every time you see them, but not too much to make you sneeze from your allergies.

It’s 6:47 PM when Nanami’s shoes touch your welcome mat. Even as his eyes trace the tawny ‘Welcome!’ made of coir, he can feel the unease wafting from behind your closed door. Your spare key rests in his closed hand, the metal digging into his palm in a silent question. You insisted that it wasn’t too soon in the relationship for this, to have access to each other in this way. After all, finally opening his heart to love after keeping it locked behind the demands of work, Nanami wanted to take things slowly. But you had other plans—you always do. And now, Nanami is glad to have relented so quickly when you gave him the spare key two weeks ago.

You’re a tidy person, meticulous to a fault. So it’s easy for him to spot the littering of disarray. The curtains are drawn tight, casting your home into darkness. A trail of clothes starts from the door and trails to your room. There are dirty dishes in your sink—you hate going to bed with a messy kitchen. The air is permeable—a physical being that Nanami can see the particles as they float and scurry with his movements through your home.

He finds you in your room, a tornado of dirty clothes and empty takeout containers, three blankets deep, with only the top of your hair visible. The air is just as stale in here—heavy with the kind of silence that comes to life from too many hours alone with dark thoughts. Your phone lies on your nightstand, face-down, notifications from others probably neglected along with Nanami’s. He hates the sight, angry at whatever malevolent force that’s decided to torment you, and now he fights it.

The rustle of Nanami setting his things down makes you stir, the lump of covers oscillating with your movements as a flash of your melanin-rich skin pokes from the dark hole where you reside. Your eyes meet his—surprised, alarmed, and immediately angry.

“Get out,” you snap, your voice gravelly from disuse. Through the curtain of your textured hair, Nanami catches a sliver of your icy gaze, foggy with the heaviness he can smell in the room. He takes a step closer, and it’s a step too far. Your tired eyes widen with a simmering fury that makes Nanami think twice.

“Why can’t you listen?! You can’t be here…” you stop short, squeezing the covers around your already decaying form like a lifeline. “Not when I’m—like this.”

He takes another cautious step—your eyes narrow, a weak challenge—then another until he sits at the edge of your bed. The dip from his weight causes your feet to curve into the cavern, toes touching his thighs from beneath your covers.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

The still air seems to vibrate from your fury, dust motes zipping haphazardly as if being pulled back and forth by an invisible force.

“Call you? Call you?? So you could see this? So you could see how I can’t even—“A lump of confusion and rage dies in your throat, the sound gurgling like a sewage pipe. His hands clasp the blanket that covers your shoulders, pulling you up gently with no resistance. You want to smack his hands away, to yell at him to leave and never come back. Because you’re not ready for him to see you like this. Not yet.

But despite the bark of your bite, you’re exhausted—mentally and physically.

“I wanted to wait a few weeks,” you ramble, eyes turned away from him as you shiver from the cold air on your exposed upper half. You’re still wearing the same shirt from three days ago when you called Nanami to cancel; your eyes had already been filled with tears, your throat suffocating beneath torrential thoughts and negativity that springs to life when you least expect it.

“No one wants to see this so soon.”

“From that statement alone, I’m going to assume the men you dated before were below average in all respects.”

“Everyone expects some grandiose gesture to make all of…this go away. And it’s not that fucking simple.” You don’t acknowledge his assessment. Still rambling, still trying to push him away even as he stands. He pulls you up with him with a firm grip still on your shoulders, his care poking at your defenses with inquisitive fingers.

Your knees buckle, threatening to give out without the reassurance of his hold. Your rambling falls to the wayside, fading into the air around you as you finally comprehend your new position in front of him. Standing for the first time in days, the strength of his hands radiates warmth down to your toes. The room falls quiet, opening its ears to your uneven breathing and the smell of tears.

One beat. Two beats. Three.

“It seems you’re standing now,” he says simply, the low crooning timbre of his voice wafting over your face. You heave in a stuttering breath, suck down his air, and let it fill you from the inside with care you’ve neglected. Nanami doesn’t leave his words open for discussion. There is no question hidden in his matter-of-face statement. There is no undercurrent of judgment.

“A bath.”

“What? Kento—no. I don’t need—I don’t deserve—“ His hand slides from your shoulder to cup your cheek, silencing you with its warmth. You resist leaning into his touch, too embarrassed that he can see you like this—stinky, tired, so utterly crestfallen that you can barely function.

“I’ll draw you a bath. I’ll make you dinner. And once I’m sure you’re at least full and clean, then I’ll go. Until you’re ready for me again.”

Steam rises around you in the bathroom, carrying eucalyptus and lavender from the bath oils you like to indulge in on a terrible day like this one. You draw your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around your limbs to bury your head in the gap it creates. Your eyes catch the water droplets on your skin, hydrophobic and suspended in time before sliding into the bath water.

When you turn your head to the side, you catch your living room from the open door. He’s cleaned up—opened the curtains, picked up the laundry, and vacuumed the floors. One of your candles burns bright, the low whir of your washing machine sashaying through the apartment. All things you just haven’t had the energy to do.

It started off small, it always does. One thought—fleeting and infinitesimal—but still heavy with a nervousness that plants in your mind like a maggot, burrowing its way through the meat. Your symptoms are more anxious thoughts, more poor remarks of yourself, more he’s successful who are you kidding? More maybe they don’t like you, why can’t you see that? More once Kento sees this side of you, he’ll never want you again.

More, more, more even though those thoughts hold little evidence to prove true. But for you, those maggots burrow until there is nothing left of you but a hollow shell, a husk that has no choice and no energy but to lay down in bed and sleep the days away until the meat heals again.

Beneath the steam, you can spell the mix of thyme, peeled tomatoes, and garlic. The tomato soup you showed him how to make on your first date. He was inquisitive, watching silently, his eyes falling on yours too often to take good notes. Now, it’s another show of this man you’re growing to love, crafting something for you with his own hands, affection beneath the veil of reservation that he shows everyone else.

It’s too much for you. The tears come quietly, spilling down your cheeks and into the bath water, polluting the love that was used to create it.

You hear his footsteps, padded feet on your now clean floor as he walks into the bathroom and takes in the sight of you. You blink against the rush of embarrassment, too tired to wipe the tears away, too tired to hide a vulnerability you wanted to keep a lid on for awhile longer.

He walks to your sink, gathering product, a hair bottle, and a wide-toothed comb before coming back to you. He kneels beside the tub and rolls up his navy sleeves without ceremony, pinching off his glasses before he sets them on the floor. He’s soft but efficient in the way he rubs your bar soap on your loofah, getting it nice and sudsy. He’s relaxed but observant—his tie loosened but not completely off, his forearms flexing with quelled strength as he washes your back and shoulders, the slight furrow of concentration in his brows as he measures his next words.

“Strawberry and cream cheese danishes.”

“Hm?”

“If I eat one, I’ll want more. So I try to stay away when I can.” Nanami continues, washing the soap off your shoulders before he hands you the loofah. You take it without question, watching him disappear to sit behind you as you wash your limbs.

“After Yu…I would bury my sorrow in work. I worked and worked and worked until my boss forced me to take time off. It’s a sneaky sickness. It likes to watch over you and strike the very moment your guard is down.”

You hear the squeeze of your hair bottle behind you, your snarled strands soaking with rosemary-scented mist in his gentle fingers.

“It’s been years. But when it does hit, that darkness that seems to strangle me and tell me that I should have tried harder, that I should have protected him….I like to go across the street from my home and get a strawberry and cream cheese danish.”

You know Nanami has a sweet tooth. You’ve seen the way his eyes light up from the pies that you like to make, always bringing him a slice to work. You’ve seen the sidelong glance he gives strudel that steams behind glass display cases at the bakery he takes you to. But to imagine him leaving his apartment in the dead of night, wrinkled clothes and bags beneath his eyes, not showered in days—paying for a danish…you hitch a breath, a chuckle squeaking and dying in your throat with a painful lurch.

“Why are you laughing?” He admonishes. You can practically feel the lifted brow and gentle smile on your back. Your skin tingles with the movement of his fingers as he works them through your hair, detangling with rosemary and leave-in conditioner

“Do you buy the three-pack?”

Silence. A pause in your hair before baby hairs flutter from the puff of air he shoots out. You bite your lip to keep the dry smile from forming.

“No,” he lies, playfully.

The heaviness in the air gives way to a light current of brightness from your fleeting smile, from the smell of the tub, and your hair now detangled and loose before shrinkage claims it.

“I’m not sure what’s compelled you to think there’s a proper time to tell me that your thoughts grow dark at random moments in your life. Now, two months from now, it doesn’t matter. I love you.”

The declaration wraps around you, sliding down your ajar mouth and curdling in your lungs with certainty, taking root in the muscle for the foreseeable future.

“And if it is alright,” he continues, carding his fingers through your hair to plait it into a single braid. “I would like to love every part of you. Even the parts you try to hide. The parts that make you think that you’re not good enough—for me, or your friends, or anyone else. If anything, being able to be here, right now, is a privilege I’ll cherish.”

When the fresh tears spill over again, they no longer taint the water you soak in. They cleanse, collecting and filtering away the depression and anxiety that claims so much of your life when you least expect it.

After, when you’re clean and smelling of Shea butter that Nanami slathered you in, you sink into your now clutter-free sofa. The exhaustion settles on your bones in a different way. Well earned after a long battle instead of invasive and unasked for.

Your eyes rest on the lovely bouquet of Asian lilies on your coffee table, fresh with stems cut, curling toward you with open petals so you can see the beauty inside. The gesture fills you with more of that feeling, of love that you never imagined to come so soon with a man like him.

Nanami walks around the sofa, a tray that he sets in front of you carrying his own rendition of your tomato soup, toasted sourdough grilled cheese, and a tall glass of water.

“Extra basil?” You ask, lips wobbly around a smile as you take in another form of his adoration that you’ll have forever if he allows it.

“Extra basil.”

When he returns with his own tray, his hair falling over his eyes in a heap of hard work, he offers you a look. A measured look that’s filled with everything he wants to give, an excitement in his warm brown eyes that you can’t wait to see more of. But it’s shrouded in a gentle reservation with gaps only visible to you. Soft smiles for you. Loving touches for you. A beacon in storms that brew seemingly out of nowhere just for you.

He leans forward and brushes his lips against your forehead, a safe place where he can take some part of you while you heal. But you’d like more. So you tilt your head for him, soaking the warmth from his lips that press against yours softly.

Suddenly, your worries, your dark thoughts, your misery that you let keep you beneath your blankets for days all smoothed over from his touch. Satiated until those maggots in your mind wiggle to life again when they’re hungry.

“Marcus didn’t give a rose to Janine.” He says casually as he draws back to his side and turns on the TV, nonchalant as if he didn’t just spend the evening putting you back together with gentle hands and quiet love.

You relax into his side, looking at his arm with teary eyes as he rests it on the couch behind you, offering a blanket of comfort and safety that you haven’t had in a long time.

“Gojo spoiled it,” Nanami continues, grumbling and annoyed at the two syllables of Gojo’s name touching his tongue. He blows at his spoon of soup, eyes locked on the screen, his sharp features colored with flickering blues and reds.

He notices your stillness—of course, he notices—and offers you another kiss on your cheek before turning back to the show.

“I’ll steal his kikufuku as punishment,” you offer, arm shaking with the gentle chuckle he gives in response.

The soup steams in your hands, your hair soft and braided, your body worshiped and clean, Nanami’s heartbeat permeable beneath his clothes as you sink into him and sip your delicious soup.

For the first time in years, you know when the world feels heavy, he’ll be able to lift that weight off of you before it buries you away.