#and so later at dinner she asked about the plot
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rosemariiaa · 3 days ago
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pleaseeeee! any fics dropping tng? also, i was thinking about some prompts:
It’s the third day of the Montana trip, and Azzi is officially meeting Paige’s extended family at the annual Bueckers cabin gathering. As soon as they walk in, Paige’s aunts, uncles, and cousins immediately swarm Azzi with hugs and excited chatter, saying things like, “Oh my God, you’re the Azzi Fudd! Paige never stops talking about you!” and “We’ve heard so much about you—welcome to the family!” Azzi blushes furiously, shooting Paige a look that screams You’ve been talking about me this much? Meanwhile, Paige is grinning ear to ear, her arm slung protectively around Azzi’s waist, as if to say, Yeah, she’s mine. The real kicker comes when Paige’s baby cousin is passed around, and Paige immediately turns into a puddle of goo, cooing and cradling the baby like a natural. Azzi catches her staring dreamily at the scene, and Paige whispers, “Okay, but imagine us with one of these someday,” sending Azzi into a flustered spiral while the whole family laughs and cheers them on.
It’s the WNBA All-Star Weekend red carpet, and Paige is rocking a sleek outfit, chatting with reporters and soaking in the spotlight. Just as she finishes an interview, she spots Breanna Stewart a few feet away, looking effortlessly cool as always. Paige makes her way over, and the two Huskies immediately fall into an easy conversation about UConn, the All-Star game, and life post-college. But then Stewie’s daughter, Ruby, comes bounding over, clutching a tiny basketball and tugging at her mom’s hand. Paige instantly lights up, crouching down to talk to Ruby and even showing her a few dribble moves. As they play, Paige can’t help but ask Stewie, “So, like, how did you know Marta was the one?” Stewie raises an eyebrow, clearly amused, and says, “Why? You thinking about someone special?” Paige freezes, her face turning crimson, and stammers, “What? No! I mean—I was just curious!” Stewie smirks, leaning in slightly. “Paige, come on. It’s Azzi, right? You’re not exactly subtle.” Paige’s eyes widen, and she splutters, “Wait, how did you—I didn’t even say her name!” Stewie laughs, patting her on the shoulder. “It’s written all over your face. Plus, you two are kind of iconic. And for the record, she’s perfect for you.” Before Paige can recover, Ruby tugs at her hand and asks, “Can you teach me how to shoot like Azzi?” Paige is left flustered, trying to process how Stewie read her so easily, while the cameras catch the whole adorable exchange.
It’s the middle of their much-anticipated cruise vacation, and Paige, ever the overconfident sunbather, decided to skip the sunscreen because “I don’t burn, Azzi, I glow.” Fast forward to that evening, and Paige is lying facedown on their cabin bed, groaning in agony as her back and shoulders radiate a bright, painful red. Azzi, shaking her head but unable to hide her fond smile, sits beside her with a bottle of aloe vera, gently dabbing the cool gel onto Paige’s scorched skin. “I told you to wear sunscreen,” Azzi teases, her voice soft but laced with amusement. Paige whines, “I didn’t think it would be this bad!” Azzi rolls her eyes but continues to pamper her, her touch soothing and careful. Between Paige’s dramatic sighs and Azzi’s quiet laughter, the moment becomes one of those memories they’ll laugh about for years. Later, as they sit on the deck under the stars, Paige leans her head on Azzi’s shoulder and murmurs, “You’re the best, you know that?” Azzi just smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, and says, “Yeah, I know. But next time, listen to me about the sunscreen.” Paige grins, already plotting how to make it up to her—maybe with a surprise dinner or a cheesy cruise karaoke duet.
soooo you basically just wrote 3 fics for me 🤭 i love u
also guys when u send prompts add an emoji to ur ask so i can mention u in the fic when i post!!
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quibbs126 · 1 year ago
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The good thing about having a new roommate is that I can spend an hour explaining the lore of whatever my hyperfixation is
This time it was Berserk
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birdmenmanga · 24 days ago
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guy who has only read kekkaishi, watching interstellar for the first time: wow this guy is soooo sumikocore
#just thinking thoughts...#good news everybody! interstellar was great!!#so sad that I got to watch it and karasuma didn't. I think he would have liked it#and yoshimori? he would have been devastated#I think it goes like this. sen would ask yoshimori and tokine to watch it at the theaters with him bc he doesn't want to watch it alone#knowing nothing more than sen said someone else said it was really good#they go. movie starts. when it becomes clear that the dad is going on a trip to save the world and he will likely never return#tokine starts shooting angry glares at sen who is staring defensively back like I did not know about the plot dont come after me#obviously yoshimori is crying sobbing at multiple points#like audibly dry heaving in the theater. other people are looking at him. he doesn't care he's having a moment with his mom#when the movie ends and they go to Birdy's (knockoff Denny's) for dinner#he smiles placidly and goes 'damn it was nice that she got to see her dad just once before she died' with the musou and everything#and sen and tokine are both tryna be like. damn. um. are you okay brother. and they know he's not but also don't know what to do#two weeks later an interstellar dvd arrives at their place and sen and tokine are having a hushed whisper argument about it#like yeah that was a good movie but why would you order this#what the fuck are you on I didn't order it can you stop just assuming shit???#and yoshimori just comes by and goes 'oh nice it's here!' and casually grabs it from them#and trots off to a distant part of the house and they can audibly hear him go#'hey dad I watched this awesome movie with sen and tokine a while ago we should watch this together some time'#THE END. thanks for reading this comic with me that's in my head. you should be able to see it
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carnalcrows · 20 days ago
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BABYSITTER - THE SALESMAN
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pairing: the salesman x male reader
synopsis: When a broke college student takes a babysitting gig, he signs up for snack time and bedtime stories—but ends up with bloodstains, cryptic employers, and an unsettling crush on the kid’s disturbingly hot dad.
content warnings: 18+, bottom male reader, blackmailing, blood, anal, breeding, creampie, missionary, mating press, dubcon, mentions of kidnapping, too much plot
word count: 5.2k (good lord)
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It was a typical Wednesday afternoon when you found yourself perched in the corner of the campus café, a half-empty cup of cold coffee sweating onto the table beside your laptop. Bills, tuition, and the general weight of adulthood had a way of pressing down on your shoulders, leaving you in a constant state of mild panic. You scrolled through job listings with the desperation of someone clinging to a lifeboat.  
Barista? You had already been rejected twice due to your “lack of experience.”  
Retail? They wanted you available on weekends, which wasn’t feasible with your study schedule.  
Dog walker? Allergic to fur.  
The list grew more depressing as the minutes ticked by, until one particular post caught your attention:  
"Babysitter needed. Flexible hours. Payment upon services rendered. Serious applicants only."  
There was no company name, no attached image of a smiling family, not even a hint about the age of the child you’d be babysitting. The simplicity of it screamed sketchy, but the promise of payment dangled in front of you like a carrot on a stick. 
“Desperate times,” you muttered, clicking on the post.  
The application form was equally bare-bones, asking only for your name, availability, and a short paragraph about why you wanted the job. You quickly typed something generic about being responsible and good with kids, then hit send without much hope.  
To your surprise, you received a reply almost immediately.  
"You’re hired. Start tomorrow at 3 PM. Address: [Redacted]."  
You stared at the screen, bewildered. No interview? No background check? Either this was the world’s most desperate parent, or you were walking into a scam. A friend texted you moments later, asking if you’d found a job yet, and you decided to leave out the details when you replied, 
"Yep, starting tomorrow."  
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The afternoon sun was scorching as you made your way up the steps of the quaint suburban house. The place had a sort of storybook charm—a neat lawn, pastel shutters, and a small porch swing swaying lazily in the breeze. If it weren’t for the suspiciously vague job listing you’d answered, you might have thought you were walking into a feel-good rom-com instead of a potentially shady situation.  
You knocked on the door and waited. Seconds ticked by. You shifted awkwardly, glancing over your shoulder as if expecting hidden cameras. But just as you were about to knock again, the door flew open with surprising force, revealing a little girl standing barely taller than the doorknob.  
“Hi!” she exclaimed, her voice so cheerful it nearly gave you whiplash. “Are you the babysitter?”  
“Uh… yeah,” you replied, startled by the sheer intensity of her enthusiasm. “That’s me.”  
“I’m Su-an,” she said proudly, puffing out her chest. “Come in! I was just having a meeting with my council!”  
Before you could even ask what she meant, she grabbed your hand and tugged you inside. The house was warm and cozy, if a little cluttered, with toys scattered across the floor and crayon drawings taped haphazardly on the walls.  
---
“This is Mr. Snuggles,” Su-an announced, holding up a ragged teddy bear with one ear chewed off. “He’s the president of my council.”  
“Uh-huh,” you said, nodding solemnly. “And what does the council do?”  
“Important stuff,” she said, narrowing her eyes like she was letting you in on a state secret. “Like deciding who gets cookies after dinner. Also, they voted to make you the assistant.”  
You blinked. “I don’t remember running for office.”  
“Well, you didn’t,” she said matter-of-factly. “But Mr. Snuggles said you looked like you’d be good at it.”  
Before you could protest, she shoved the bear into your hands and pointed to a tiny table covered in a chaotic mix of crayons, plastic teacups, and a single half-eaten cookie.  
“Sit,” she ordered. “The council meeting is starting!”  
---
The rest of the afternoon unfolded in a whirlwind of nonsensical games and increasingly bizarre “council decisions.” At one point, you were ordered to wear a paper crown (which barely fit) and were dubbed the “Official Snack Prince.” Your royal duties included distributing Goldfish crackers and ensuring everyone—stuffed animals included—got an equal share.  
“You’re actually pretty good at this,” Su-an said, eyeing you critically as you handed Sir Fluffington his crackers. “Better than my last babysitter.”  
“Oh?” you asked, curious. “What happened to them?”  
“They couldn’t handle the council,” she said gravely.  
---
After the meeting adjourned, Su-an decided it was time to “train” you in the art of hide-and-seek. You played along, even though she kept hiding in the same spot: under the dining table, her giggles giving her away every single time.  
“Found you again!” you said, crouching down to peer under the table.  
She gasped, genuinely shocked. “How are you so good at this?!”  
“It’s a gift,” you deadpanned, earning another round of giggles.  
---
When hide-and-seek got old, she declared it was “dance party time.” She dragged you to the living room, where she plugged in her favorite playlist on an ancient speaker. The first song was a pop hit you vaguely recognized, and before you could even protest, she was already twirling around like a whirlwind.  
“Come on!” she yelled over the music.  
“I don’t dance,” you started, but she shot you a look so devastatingly adorable that you had no choice but to join in.  
What followed was ten minutes of the most ridiculous dancing of your life. Su-an moved like she was powered by pure chaos, flailing her arms and jumping around, while you attempted something resembling the robot. She laughed so hard she tripped over her own feet, and you had to catch her before she face-planted into the couch.  
---
As the day wore on, you found yourself genuinely enjoying her company. She was smart, funny, and had the kind of boundless energy that made you wonder if kids ran on caffeine instead of juice boxes.  
By the time bedtime rolled around, you were exhausted. Getting her into pajamas was an ordeal—she insisted she couldn’t sleep without her “lucky socks,” which turned out to be mismatched and buried at the bottom of her toy chest. When you finally tucked her in, she stared up at you with wide, sleepy eyes.  
“Will you come back tomorrow?” she asked, clutching Mr. Snuggles to her chest.  
“Yeah,” you said, smiling. “I’ll be here.”  
“Promise?”  
“Promise.”  
---
As you made your way back downstairs, you felt a surprising sense of accomplishment. Babysitting wasn’t what you’d imagined yourself doing, but something about Su-an’s infectious energy and genuine joy made it worth it.  
You tidied up the living room, stepping over plastic dinosaurs and rogue crayons, and couldn’t help but laugh to yourself. If every day was going to be like this, maybe this job wouldn’t be so bad after all.  
---
And so, your days with Su-an became a routine. Every afternoon, she greeted you at the door like an excited puppy, launching into a new scheme or game. One day, she decided you were a dragon and she was a brave knight. The next, you were her art teacher, helping her draw increasingly absurd animals like “dog-o-sauruses” and “cat-icorns.”  
One particularly memorable day, she tried to teach you how to braid her hair. It did not go well.  
“Why are there so many strands?!” you groaned, your fingers tangled in her hair.  
“It’s easy!” she said, giggling. “You just go over, under, over, under!”  
“You sound like a cryptic math teacher,” you muttered, earning another round of giggles.  
---
The days passed in a blur of laughter and chaos, and soon, you found yourself looking forward to your afternoons with Su-an. She made you forget about your stress, your bills, and your endless to-do list.  
Still, a question lingered in the back of your mind: where was her dad during all of this? But for now, you were content to let the mystery be. After all, it was hard to worry about much when you had a six-year-old demanding you be her “Royal Snack Advisor.”
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It was one of those rare evenings when the air felt just right—not too cold, not too warm, with a soft breeze that carried the faint smell of grass and distant barbecues. Su-an had begged to go to the park after dinner, and you’d caved, eager to get some fresh air and give her a chance to burn off her endless energy.
“Push me higher!” Su-an squealed as she swung back and forth, her legs pumping excitedly. You stood behind her, laughing as you gave the swing a gentle push.
“Higher, huh? What are you trying to do, touch the clouds?”
“Maybe!” she shouted, giggling as the swing reached its peak.
The park wasn’t crowded—just a few other families and joggers scattered around. It was peaceful, the kind of evening where you could almost forget the strange tension that sometimes hung around the house, the questions you tried not to ask about her father’s late-night comings and goings.
But the peace didn’t last.
As you helped Su-an off the swing and she dragged you toward the monkey bars, a commotion near the edge of the park caught your attention. At first, you thought it was just a group of people arguing—a not-uncommon sight in the city. But then you saw him.
Your heart stopped.
There, in the dim light of a flickering street lamp, was a man—the man. His tall frame was unmistakable, even in the shadows. He stood over a small group of disheveled, huddled figures, who you quickly realized were homeless people. A plastic bag lay torn at his feet, loaves of bread spilled across the ground.
He wasn’t just standing there. He was stepping on the bread.
Your breath caught as you watched him stomp down with deliberate, almost mechanical force, grinding the food into the dirt. The homeless group stared in silence, some in shock, others looking away as if too defeated to protest.
“Isn’t that Daddy?”
The innocent question cut through the haze of disbelief like a knife. You snapped your head down to look at Su-an, her wide eyes fixed on the scene with a mix of curiosity and confusion.
“No,” you said quickly, your voice sharper than you intended. “It’s not.”
“But—”
Before she could finish, you crouched down and gently placed your hands over her eyes. “Let’s go, Su-an. We’re leaving.”
“Why can’t I look? What’s wrong?” she whined, squirming in your grasp.
“Because it’s not safe,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady as you picked her up and started walking away, her protests muffled against your shoulder.
Your mind raced as you carried her toward the car. What had you just witnessed? That couldn’t have been him—could it? But the silhouette, the way he carried himself—it was all too familiar.
You buckled Su-an into her car seat, doing your best to distract her with promises of ice cream and cartoons when you got home. But even as she babbled happily about her favorite flavors, your hands trembled on the steering wheel.
By the time you got back to the house and put Su-an to bed, your heart was still pounding. You paced the living room, replaying the scene over and over in your head. The way he’d crushed the bread underfoot—there had been no hesitation, no anger, just cold, calculated precision.
Who does that?
And more importantly, why?
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The house was silent, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the floorboards as you shifted on the couch. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but between your classes, assignments, and Su-an’s boundless energy, exhaustion had taken its toll.
It was the sound of the front door slamming that jolted you awake. Disoriented, you blinked into the darkness, the faint glow of the kitchen light casting long shadows across the room. Footsteps echoed through the hallway—heavy, deliberate, and nothing like the hurried, near-silent ones you were used to from the man of the house.
You sat up, your heart beginning to race. Something wasn’t right.
When he appeared in the doorway, your stomach twisted into a knot. His usually pristine white shirt was drenched in blood, the vivid crimson staining the fabric and dripping in thick, uneven streaks. His face was ashen, his dark eyes wild and unfocused, like a man teetering on the edge of something you couldn’t name.
“Wh-what happened?” you stammered, instinctively backing away as the metallic tang of blood reached your nose.
“It’s not my blood,” he said curtly, his voice gravelly and sharp.
As if that was supposed to make you feel better.
“That doesn’t answer my question!” you said, your voice trembling despite your attempt to sound firm.
He staggered toward the kitchen, his movements unsteady but purposeful. Against every ounce of self-preservation screaming at you to stay put, you got up and followed him.
“Are you hurt?” you asked, your tone softer this time.
He didn’t respond, instead gripping the edge of the counter as if to steady himself. The dim light overhead cast harsh shadows across his sharp features, making him look even more unapproachable than usual.
“Sit down,” you said, surprised by the steadiness of your own voice.
He turned his head, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your chest tighten. For a moment, you thought he’d ignore you, but then he surprised you by obeying. He sank into one of the kitchen chairs, his movements slow and deliberate, as if every step cost him.
You grabbed a damp cloth from the sink, your hands trembling slightly as you wrung it out. You weren’t sure why you were doing this—why you weren’t running out the door or calling the police. Maybe it was the way he looked, like a man who had seen too much, or maybe it was the faint vulnerability hiding behind his hard exterior.
“This... isn’t normal,” you muttered, more to yourself than him, as you began wiping the blood from his face. The cloth came away dark and sticky, and your stomach churned.
“You shouldn’t concern yourself with things you don’t understand,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a warning edge.
You paused, meeting his gaze. His eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them, filled with something unreadable—a mix of exhaustion, anger, and something else that sent a shiver down your spine.
“I’m here,” you said, almost defiantly, as you moved to clean his hands. “So I’m already concerned.”
He didn’t respond, but the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease ever so slightly.
The silence between you grew even heavier, the only sound now being the soft movement of the cloth against his skin. Your hands were shaking slightly as you worked, wiping the blood from his face, his hands, but his eyes never left you. They were intense—piercing, almost as though he were searching for something in your expression.
You couldn’t look away for long. The tension in the air thickened with every passing second, your heartbeat picking up, each thud echoing loudly in your ears. It was like being drawn into a web you didn’t fully understand but couldn’t escape from, no matter how hard you tried.
When you finally stepped back, giving him space, you thought you’d be able to breathe again. But then, his hand shot out, quick as lightning, wrapping around your wrist. The touch was firm, deliberate, sending an involuntary jolt of electricity through your veins. You tried to pull away, but his grip was unyielding. His fingers were cold against your skin, but the intensity in his eyes made your heart race.
"Why are you helping me?" His voice was low, gravelly, and for a moment, you wondered if he was testing you—seeing if you’d reveal the truth, or maybe if you’d run.
You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breath, but your pulse was hammering, and you couldn’t ignore the way your body reacted to his proximity. The heat between you both felt suffocating. His touch was grounding, yet it stirred something dangerous inside you. “Because someone has to,” you replied, your voice steady, though you could feel the words slipping off your tongue more as a defense than truth.
His gaze deepened, darkening in a way that sent a chill down your spine. The air between you was thick, electric, as if there were an unspoken promise between you both—a promise you knew you were too afraid to fully acknowledge. Then, before you could even react, he pulled you in close. His other hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair with a force that made your breath catch in your throat.
And then his lips were on yours.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t slow. It was a collision, desperate and overwhelming, like a dam that had been holding back too much for too long and was finally breaking free. His kiss was messy—almost violent—as if he needed to consume you, to claim you in a way that made your knees weak and your thoughts scatter. His lips were demanding, his teeth grazing your bottom lip in a way that made your body tremble.
You should’ve pushed him away, told him to stop, told him that this was wrong. Your mind screamed at you to break free, but your body betrayed you, leaning into him instead, matching the fervor of his kiss. His hand slid to your waist, pulling you even closer, his grip tightening. Your breath was ragged between kisses, and your pulse pounded in your ears as the world outside of the two of you seemed to vanish.
When he pulled away, just far enough to catch his breath, your lips were swollen, your chest heaving. You couldn’t think. All you could feel was the lingering heat of his touch, the undeniable thrum of desire that still buzzed beneath your skin. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, there was something in them—something dark, dangerous, but...hungry.
His lips curved into a smirk, and it sent a jolt of unease running down your spine, mingled with something else, something deeper.
“You’re in over your head, kid,” he said, his voice a low murmur that sent a shiver down your back.
The words should’ve been a warning. They should’ve sent you running. But instead, they only lingered in the air between you, wrapping themselves around you like a noose. You should’ve known then, but you didn’t want to listen.
And for the first time, you realized: you were already tangled up in his web, and maybe—just maybe—you didn’t want to escape.
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The obsession grew in subtle ways. You’d arrive to find unexpected gifts waiting for you on the kitchen counter: a sleek leather wallet, a watch so expensive you didn’t dare wear it, a bottle of cologne that smelled like a storm breaking over the ocean.
When you tried to protest—“This is too much” or “I can’t accept this”—his expression would shift. His jaw would tighten, his eyes darkening with something that made your chest tighten.
“Take it,” he’d say, his tone brooking no argument. And you’d always comply, your words catching in your throat as he gave you a look that said refusing wasn’t an option.
Your feelings about him became a tangled mess of contradictions. Every instinct screamed that something about him was wrong. The blood, the cryptic way he spoke, the chilling bread incident in the park—they all painted a picture of a man you should stay far away from.
But then there were the moments that left you reeling. A lingering glance, a brush of his hand against yours, the way he could soften—just slightly—when he saw you with Su-an.
The first time he kissed you, you felt like your world had been turned inside out. It was sudden, overwhelming, and left you breathless. His lips were rough but urgent, like he was staking a claim rather than asking permission. And when it happened again—and again—you didn’t push him away. Instead, you found yourself leaning into him, craving the heat of his touch despite every rational thought telling you to run.
But his obsession wasn’t content to simmer beneath the surface. It began to consume him, bleeding into the delicate balance of your day-to-day life.
He started showing up during your babysitting hours, a presence that was impossible to ignore. At first, he’d just watch from the doorway as you played with Su-an, his dark eyes following your every move with a possessiveness that sent shivers down your spine.
Then, his involvement escalated. He’d dismiss you early—always with some excuse about needing to talk to you. But the moment Su-an was out of earshot, his demeanor would shift. He’d pull you into his room, his hands firm but not rough as he guided you inside.
“You’re spending so much time with her,” he’d say, his voice low and rough, tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. “Don’t forget who’s paying you.”
His lips would crash against yours before you could respond, his kisses urgent and messy, as though he couldn’t stand the thought of you being anywhere else but with him.
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The final straw came on a night like any other—or so you thought. Su-an had already gone to bed, and you were tidying up the living room when your gaze drifted toward the slightly ajar door of the man’s study. It was a room he rarely used in your presence, a space he kept locked most of the time.
You hadn’t intended to snoop. But the door was open, and your curiosity, already inflamed by the strange events surrounding him, got the better of you.
Inside, the air was thick with the scent of leather and faintly bitter cologne. The dim lighting cast long shadows over the mahogany desk and the shelves lined with books and files. One particular folder caught your attention—it was open, papers spilling out as if hastily shoved aside.
Your heart sank as you picked up the first page. It was your class schedule, neatly printed and highlighted. Beneath it were receipts from your favorite coffee shop, notes about your usual order scribbled in the margins.
And then there were the photos.
They weren’t candid shots taken on the street or at the park. They were intimate, the kind of photos someone would take if they were watching closely—too closely. You recognized the outfits, the moments. One was of you laughing as you pushed Su-an on the swings. Another showed you sitting on a park bench, earbuds in, entirely unaware of the camera.
The air in the room felt too thick, like it was choking you. Your fingers trembled as you shoved the papers back into the folder, heart hammering in your chest.
“What the hell is this?”
The words left your mouth before you even realized he was standing in the doorway, his tall frame silhouetted against the light from the hall. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes burned with something intense.
The folder in your hands felt heavier than it should have, its contents seared into your memory. Photos of you, notes about your life, details no one should know unless they’d been watching you for far too long. Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at him, standing so calmly in the doorway as if this was all perfectly normal.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” you demanded, your voice shaking.
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped further into the room, his movements slow, deliberate. The door clicked shut behind him, sealing you in with the man you were starting to realize you knew far less about than you’d thought.
“I warned you,” he said, his voice low, almost soothing. “I told you not to go looking where you shouldn’t.”
“This—this is insane,” you stammered, backing up until the edge of the desk pressed against your hips. “Why do you have these? Why are you—”
“You don’t get it, do you?” he interrupted, his tone softening as he drew closer. His gaze was unrelenting, pinning you in place. “I’ve been watching over you. Protecting you. You’re... important to me.”
“Protecting me?” you shot back, your voice breaking. “This is stalking. This is obsessive. This—this isn’t normal!”
He stopped just a breath away from you, his height and presence overwhelming. His eyes, dark and piercing, searched yours for something, though you couldn’t tell what. Slowly, he reached out, his hand brushing against your cheek.
“I can’t lose you,” he murmured, his voice almost breaking. “Do you have any idea what you mean to me–and to my daughter? You’ve become... everything.”
The warmth of his touch sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. Your body tensed, torn between the instinct to pull away and the undeniable pull of his closeness.
“Stop,” you whispered, though your voice lacked the strength it should have had. “This isn’t—this can’t—”
But he didn’t stop. His other hand moved to your waist, firm but not forceful, as he leaned closer.
“You keep saying it’s wrong,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, his breath warm against your lips. “But you don’t push me away.”
His lips brushed against yours, testing, as though giving you one last chance to stop him. But when you didn’t move, when your breath hitched and your hands gripped the edge of the desk behind you, he took it as permission.
The kiss was slow at first, deliberate and searching, as though he was memorizing every inch of your mouth. But it didn’t stay that way for long. His hand slid up to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss.
You gasped against him, your hands instinctively gripping his shirt. The heat of him, the sheer intensity of his presence, was dizzying. When his teeth grazed your bottom lip, you couldn’t suppress the small sound that escaped you—a sound that seemed to ignite something in him.
His movements grew more desperate, more consuming. He pressed you back against the desk, his body caging you in as his lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, then down to the sensitive skin of your neck. The scrape of his stubble sent sparks of sensation racing down your spine, and you couldn’t help the way your head tilted to give him better access.
“You drive me insane,” he murmured against your skin, his voice rough, almost guttural. “Do you even realize what you do to me?”
You swallowed hard, your mind racing even as your body betrayed you, leaning into him. His hands gripped your waist, his thumbs brushing just under the hem of your shirt, and you shivered at the contact.
“This... this isn’t okay,” you managed, though the words came out weak, shaky.
“No,” he agreed, pulling back just enough to look at you. His gaze was dark, filled with something you didn’t dare name. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t want it.”
The words hung between you, heavy and charged, as he leaned in again, his lips claiming yours with a hunger that left no room for argument. And though your mind screamed at you to stop, to push him away, your body betrayed you, pulling him closer instead.
His hand slowly trailed to the hem of your sweatpants, lightly tugging on the strap, you flinched when his cold hand suddenly went under your boxers. 
“We shouldn’t be doing this– Su-an might-” you were interrupted with his other hand covering your mouth.
“Hush now, this room is soundproof,” he merely stated before harshly pulling your pants and boxers down with one tug. He then picked you up and placed you on the desk, pushing aside all the files and paper, which now seemed so insignificant.
“You’re hard. Are you still telling me you don’t want this?” He questions, his warm breath fanning your ear. You shuddered at the feeling, not knowing what to say, or what to do.
Before you could form words, he wraps his hand around your aching cock which was standing erect, partly due to the cool air, and partly due to what was happening.
His movements were minimal, slowly moving his hand along your shaft, while his other hand fetched a packet of lube from his back pocket. Where he managed to get that, you couldn’t tell.
He ripped the packet with his teeth, and spread the substance all over his fingers, before swiftly flipping you over, so that your ass was facing him.
Before you could utter a word of process, he had slipped a lubed finger in you. A wanton moan left your mouth at the sudden intrusion. 
“Fuck–don’t stop, please,” the man only smirked at this, slowly sliding in another finger, and then another. Three of his fingers slowly pumped in and out of you, and oh, it felt heavenly. His other hand held you up just a bit, to keep you from falling off the study desk.
Your hands gripped onto the desk, frantically trying to keep yourself upright, but to no avail. You kept slumping off, the pleasure being too overwhelming.
“Stay still for me pet, that’s it–good boy,” the praise went straight to your dick, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
Soon, the man determined that you had been prepped enough, and removed his fingers. You whined at the sudden emptiness, wanting to feel full once more.
He stared at your twitching hole, clenching around nothing. The sight did nothing but turn him on even more.
He removed his belt and cast it aside, while tugging down his pants and boxers with a sense of urgency. He easily flipped you over with his strong arms, now getting a clear view of your already fucked-out face.
He merely grinned, and before you could respond, he slid into your awaiting hole. You gasped at the intrusion, the head of his cock bullying its way into your hole. He groaned feeling the way you clenched around his length.
Without waiting for you to adjust, he fucked into you like an animal in heat, holding your legs in such a way that your knees where at your shoulders.
The new angle made his length hit your prostate with every thrust, making your head fall back on the table, a loud moan leaving your lips.
 The man was savouring every single reaction, every little noise you made. “Such a sweet little thing,” he cooed. “Can’t even keep a straight head while getting fucked, hm?”
The only thing that left your mouth was a string of garbled noises. Your brain had quite literally turned to mush with how well he was fucking you.
Soon, you felt your orgasm wash over you like a waterfall, but the man didn’t stop. Instead, he fucked into you harder, a bulge forming in your stomach with every thrust.
He lightly pressed on the bulge, which made you squeal– the overstimulation doing too much to your head.
He kept rutting into you until he felt his climax. When it came, his thrusts slowly started to stutter. Without warning he emptied his load in you, painting your gummy walls white.
He kept you on the desk, without pulling out as you whimpered, feeling so, so full.
With your mind in such a disarrayed state, you didn’t notice him slip a small ring onto your finger.
“Now you can’t leave me–or Su-an, ever. Poor thing needs a mother after all.”
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© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time and and I take genuine effort to do them.
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narcjsistx · 3 months ago
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𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 | sae, kaiser, rin, reo and isagi
𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!
plot: domestic shit because I love fluff stuff 🌷 the characters chosen seem to me to be the most "visible" with little girls... so yeah. I'm actually not very sure of the result, maybe I'll delete it sooner or later to do it again
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— sae itoshi
If there was one thing Sae had understood since becoming a parent, it was that having two children was complicated. On one hand he was now understanding all of his mother's concerns when, as children, Rin was unmanageable
We know however that males, if brothers, are somehow a little more manageable. Females, if sisters, are not. He was the father of two girls
As much as he loved them, he agreed with you when you said it would have been better to wait a few more years. But then he looks at his girls in the face, he regrets even thinking about it a little, because he loves them too much
In his eyes he sees him and Rin when they were kids: Sayami, the eldest, looks awfully like him because of her reddish hair, but in character she is like you. Semika, the youngest, is different from him in appearance but identical in character. Sayami brings out Semika's very hidden, but existing, sociable side. The only trait that makes girls similar are those damned undereyelashes that have marked the Itoshi family for generations
“Love, when are you going to let them go?”
"No."
"Sae, we've already talked about this..."
"I said no"
"Sae."
"I already said no, Y/n.”
"Y'know, they're already 7 years old. Sooner or later it will happen..."
"Not as long as I'm alive"
...a simple child had asked Sayami if she and her sister wanted to go play with him. Sae took their hand and walked out of the park as fast as he could with his treasures
✶ Sae tries hard to talk with her little girls. In a relationship not talking, or in any case having some communication problems, can be understood... with little girls no, because they would take it as a rejection. He ALWAYS goes out of his way to talk to them as much as possible, also because he loves the moments when they come home from school and, together, they chat about what happened during the day
✶ Let's be honest, Sae doesn't have much other knowledge or passions apart soccer, which was probably imposed on him as a child. He has not the slightest intention of making any of his girls leave school: if like him they end up having to change country to follow a sport, Sae will have to be absolutely sure that they are studying at the same time. He doesn't want them to be like him, because he knows how difficult is that life
Favorite father-daughter(s) activity: resting with them. Sae is often busy with his career, training and of course with his beautiful wife, but he always tries to make time in the evenings (if he's not out of town for a match) with his daughters. He likes to lie down on the bed or on the sofa, before dinner, with the girls who tell him everything exciting they did that day
When you and your little girl(s) show up at one of his games: he hides it well but LOVES when you come to watch him play. If he is normally a prodigy, in front of his daughters he must seem even better. When he scores a goal the first thing he would do is turn towards you, no celebration because it's not his style, but he would wave to his daughters who are cheering for him from the stands. Once the game is over he would ignore the interviewers, as he normally does, and simply come to you to claim his victory kiss
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— kaiser micheal
Having children, whether boys or girls, was NOT in Michael's plan. I mean, how can someone who had such a complicated childhood have children? Even if he hides it, he has an enormous fear of being able to make someone of his own blood suffer, voluntarily or not, what he has experienced. He just knows that if something has to happen, it happens. And he doesn't know what fate has in store for his possible heir. He might hate his kid and disown him or her like his parents, if they can be called in that way, did with him
When he found out that he was going to become a father, and with a daughter, he seriously thought for a few moments about simply walking away. Not that he hated you, he couldn't, but it was really strange for him to think that someone of his own blood, his kid, was about to born
Kaiser can't explain how all the worries he had collapsed the moment he held Anneliese, his daughter, in his arms for the first time. Just by seeing and hearing her, he wondered how he could even remotely think that he could hypothetically hurt such a wonderful being
Anneliese quickly became the center of Kaiser's world, along of course with the beautiful mother of his little girl. It can be said that his daughter is a shameless copy of him, both in appearance and character: long, blonde hair, proud and always challenging temperament. One might doubt that she is your daughter but not that she is not Kaiser's. She is liteeerally him
...Sitting on the sofa, Anneliese is watching one of her father's old match. The assist with a teammate ends badly, but the ball returns to Kaiser's possession again and he scores a goal
“Dad, the next time you pass the ball to someone unworthy, I will be even more angry than I am now!”
"I understand, don't worry. I can't make my little girl angry again, can I?"
"Mihya, on the field you have to do what you feel, don't listen to her..."
"How can I not listen to our little girl, Schatz?"
✶ Kaiser loves to take his daughter with him everywhere: whether it's to an interview, to training or to a match, Anneliese is almost certainly with him or next to you. He loves when you and your little girl cheer for him during a match, even more if he knows that if he scores there will be your lips kissing him and the little girl's little arms hugging him. He shows a lot his family and his being a fantastic father (you tell him too, he's a little insecure about this) in front of his teammates. The emperor's family!
✶ Ness is practically the little girl's uncle. He never stopped idolizing Micheal, even more so when he discovered that now there was no longer just one Kaiser but two. Micheal is slightly jealous, he doesn't like that his daughter spends so much time with Ness... he hates seeing his Anneliese so happy with an adult other than him or her mother
Favorite father-daughter(s) activity: he loves when his daughter plays with his hair, especially with the blue parts. Seeing the cerulean blue on his little girl's pale hands, as she braids it or whatever it is, makes him tender. He once dreamed of Anneliese with the exact same hair as him and he admits he wouldn't mind seeing her that way. Maybe blue tipped hair could be the Kaiser's new trademark
When you and your little girl(s) show up at one of his games: whenever you and Anneliese come to a game, the first thing he makes sure to do is that you have a seat in the VIP section. He loves seeing the stadium celebrate for him because his family is there to see him, it's something that feeds his ego. As soon as the match was over he would have you go down onto the field with him, the little girl in his arm and his other arm around your waist as he holds you close to him
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— rin itoshi
In his mind Rin, the few times he imagined himself, he always saw himself as the father of a son, and nothing more. Not brothers, as much as he actually liked the idea, just a child and above all a boy. He would have been happy like that
As much as he liked the idea of ​​a possible second child, with his job he wouldn't be able to dedicate the time he knows children deserve. At the same time he doesn't want to leave all the work to you, because parenting is something that is usually done by two. One child would have been enough
He doesn't know how but at a certain point in his life, he found himself with three daughters, all of whom were no more than two years apart. At first it was just a child, your beautiful Ayaka, then suddenly Homura also appeared and finally Rika
The idea of ​​just one boy dematerialized pretty quickly. But he loves his girls so much that, when sometimes he thinks of his original idea, he curses himself: how could he deprive himself of the presence and love of his girls?
All the girls resemble him tremendously, both in character (the one before the incident with Sae) and in appearance, obviously talking about the undereyelashes signed 'Itoshi'. Ayaka, only, is the female version of her father. Homura and Rika have taken something from their mother, but Ayaka could almost resemble Sae too... well, he is her uncle after all, right?
"Dad, Rika doesn't pass the ball when she plays!"
"You can't handle it either, Homura! You can't even pass me games at home!"
"Girls, calm down"
"Learn to score on goal first, before complaining"
...The situation seemed to be calm under Rin's control, but Ayaka broke the calm by scoring a perfect goal into the net of the private home soccer field. New prodigy?
✶ Rin often thinks about what might happen if, in the future, he ever does something that could divide her daughters. He has no preference between them, but he is always terrified that he might do something wrong that could create inequalities that he doesn't want, because in a certain sense, what happened between him and Sae must not happen in another generation of the Itoshi. He bond and love between his daughters must exist forever, not deteriorate as happened with his Nii Chan
✶ He would try to get his daughters to try as many sports as possible. As much as Rin loves soccer, his choice was influenced by the fact that Sae played it... what if he was now a world champion in, idk, volleyball? NO OKAY. He simply likes to make all 3 try new things, looking for something that maybe they could dedicate themselves with passion
Favorite father-daughter(s) activity: when his little girls organize themselves to do makeup on him. He's got a pretty mysterious look to maintain, but if Homura has decided that he's going to show up at practice tomorrow wearing orange nail polish, he'll show up that way. Not that he has any problem fighting anyone who has something to say against him, but no one dares. Rin loves to see them concentrate while putting on mascara or a completely disgusting shade of lipstick
When you and your little girl(s) show up at one of his games: if he knows that you are there to see him play, he will do everything to score as many goals as possible and, above all, quickly: he wants to keep his girls' expectations high. Once he scored a goal he would raise his hand to the sky, waiting for his girls to do the same thing because it has now become a gesture that only each other understands. At the end of the game the first thing he would do is go up to the stands to be with you, fuck his lukewarm teammates
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— reo mikage
Looking after Nagi was like taking a pre parenting course. Nagi essentially has the needs of a child if you ignore the fact that he is 17 years old and 1.90cm tall, so Reo knows quite well what a child needs. Then, he always saw the maids in his house bring their young children to work when possible: Reo loved playing with them or picking them up, or just generally spending time with them. The idea of ​​having children, sooner or later and with a special person, has actually always interested him. He always said to himself, but in reality he hoped, that he would find the person who would love him for simply being Reo and not for his money... and then you came along!
His idea has always been of only one child because he is afraid that, sooner or later, two possible children could fight over the money of the Mikage company. Everything is unpredictable, right? So he doesn't want to risk anything
His original idea was respected. When he held Hikari for the first time he simply understood that he wouldn't be able to create, obviously with you, such a cute and perfect being again
The only similarity that links Hikari to her father is the same hair color, that strong purple. For the rest she is completely her mother, and Reo loves this even more: it's cute to see a mini version of you, but with some of his features, walking around the house. His new sweet treasure!!
"So, this... this, yes, also this... that... this"
"Reo, honey, what are you doing with that newspaper?"
"Nothing dangerous. Don't worry"
"What are you doing though? You make me curious"
"I told you not to worry, honey. Trust me."
...Reo was marking all the objects, approximately 300, in a catalog of toys and children's products. If he has money, why can't he spend it if he knows it will make his daughter happy?
✶ The first person Reo told that he was going to be a father was obviously Nagi. Let's say that at first Seishiro wasn't really believing it, but when he saw that pregnancy test... oh... yes, he definitely believed it. It often happens that Hikari stays with Nagi for days at a time, as the little girl sees him as a giant she can annoy. Reo often tells his daughter not to bother Nagi too much, but it secretly makes him laugh to see Seishiro so awkward with Hikari because he doesn't know how to handle children (himself??)
✶ If there's one thing he would never do, it would be to push Hikari into running the Mikage company once she grows up. Reo hated living his childhood with the knowledge that he already had a predetermined destiny, and he doesn't want Hikari to have the same treatment. She want to become a doctor? It will become one. She want to become a farmer? It will become one. She want to become president of the world? It will become one. He simply wants her to do what she loves
Favorite father-daughter(s) activity: travel the world with his daughter or of course with you too. The money is there, and what better way is there to spend it than learning and traveling? Hikari, at less than 5 years old, had already visited half the world. Reo loves taking her to different places and seeing her reactions so amazed. His favorite will remain forever when they arrived in New York, where Hikari didn't stop smiling for a second
When you and your little girl(s) show up at one of his games: it is obvious to say that he would pay to let you have the VIP of the VIP, his girls deserve the best, right?. He would feel amazing among all his teammates knowing that his family is there for him while there is no one for them. At the end of the game he would let the cameras record him hugging you and Hikari, why would he hide all the love he has for you from the cameras?
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— isagi yoichi
Isagi was relatively happy as a child: his parents loved him, he played the sport he loved, he didn't do badly at school. Everything was happy for him in his early life. The only thing he often noticed were his classmates with older or younger siblings, who yeah argued with each other, but at the same time loved each other very much. He didn't suffer from loneliness from being the only child, not that, but he was always intrigued by the concept of not being the only child in the family
Since you've been dating seriously, and even before actually, he's always thought that his future family would model what he had: loving parents, one child, two if they had the chance
When Fujiko was born there was this plan in his mind: okay, now we dedicate ourselves to her, we give her everything she needs... then, if we want, we will have another child. Both you and Yoichi were very convinced that a max of 5 years after the birth of the kid you would try again, but Fujiko filled your lives so much that you decided that only she was good for the whole life
Fujiko's appearance bears little resemblance to her father's, maybe just a few facial features. If we talk about character, however, everything changes completely: it's a kind of Isagi 2.0, the same determination coupled with a lot of kindness. We will find out later if she also has bipolar disorder on and off the field like her dad- WHO SAID THAT??
"Fujiko, why aren't there any more pencil in your pencilcase?"
"Mom, I had to give them to some friends. Otherwise they couldn't write what the teacher said"
"This kindness reminds me of someone"
"Who? Who? Who?"
"Think about it: who do you consider to be the kindest person in the world?"
"My dad!"
...doing homework with your daughter, you noticed that some things were missing. Isagi is kind, one of the kindest in the world; when you told him about it he was perplexed, because he too would have done the exact same thing... just like his little girl
✶ Having now become a professional striker, he often does not have the opportunity to spend long periods at home due to champions or special training sessions. When this happens he is happy to leave because soccer is his passion anyway, on the other hand he dies inside every time he hugs his daughter or you for the last time. He loves his family, he would like to always be with you and Fujiko because you give him courage, but he understands that always moving with him from city to city, or even from country to country, is complicated and, above all, tiring
✶ He would like to direct Fujiko towards soccer, but at the same time he knows that he cannot choose something that is actually up to her. He has the belief that Fujiko would probably be good as him, unlocking her own version of the meta vision, but he prefers to see her little girl happy with the things she has chosen and loves
Favorite father-daughter(s) activity: he likes when they watch the games Isagi has already played. Television often replays reruns of recent or even old matches, and whenever Isagi is present on the field, Fujiko is the first to ask to watch them together. Yoichi enjoys seeing her so amazed by the actions on the field, commenting on anything that she doesn't understand because she rightfully doesn't know the rules of soccer. The thing that amuses him most is explaining to her who are the people he passes the ball, whether they are his friends or not, but now for Fujiko there is only Bachira with the title of dad's friend
When you and your little girl(s) show up at one of his games: the mere fact that you come to see him play is a lot for him, but since you and Fujiko once showed up wearing a jacket that said "biggest fan of number 11" on the back, he understood that he didn't it would matter if he were to be burned alive if he did it for you. Unfortunately the insults would always be there, but he would try to contain himself in front of his little girl. At the end of the game the first thing he would do is come to you and let you onto the field, making you celebrate with him
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aceyalonso · 3 months ago
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how bad do you need it? - CHARLES LECLERC
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pairing :��charles leclerc x fiancée!reader kinktober day 15 - begging
summary : a bad day at work and a good fiancé would and will always end well
warnings/notes : a bit of plot, swearing, smut, begging, dry humping, y/n cums in her shorts 😭, breeding kink, sir kink, praise kink, degrading kink, unprotected sex (always use a condom guys!), dirty talk, mentions of pregnancy and children, fingering, overstimulation, use of "mommy" and "good girl", slight cum play
word count : 4.4k
a/n : hahahahha i NEED HIM
main masterlist | kinktober masterlist | taglist form
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Y/n trudges through the front door, her shoulders slumped and her face etched with exhaustion. Another grueling day at the office, dealing with difficult clients and mounting paperwork, had taken its toll. She kicks off her heels and drops her purse on the floor, too tired to even hang up her coat.
Charles emerges from the kitchen, his brow furrowed with concern as he takes in Y/n's disheveled appearance. "Hi, mon amour, rough day?" he asks gently, stepping closer to wrap his arms around her.
Y/n leans into his embrace, resting her head on his chest. "You could say that," she sighs, her voice muffled against his shirt. "I just want to forget about it and relax."
Charles nods understandingly. "Why don't you go lie down and I'll bring you some tea? We can talk about it later if you want."
Y/n shakes her head, her hair falling across her face. "No, I just want to sleep. Can you order us some food for dinner? Something comforting, like pizza or Chinese?"
Charles nods, pressing a tender kiss to the top of Y/n's head. "Of course, mon amour. I'll take care of everything. You just focus on resting."
He guides her towards their bedroom, helping her out of her work clothes and tucking her into bed. Y/n sighs contentedly as she sinks into the soft mattress, the stress of the day already beginning to melt away.
After ensuring she's comfortable, Charles quietly leaves the room to place their food order. He selects Y/n's favorite pizza, knowing the familiar flavors will bring her comfort. As he waits for the delivery, he tidies up the living room and prepares a mug of chamomile tea, hoping the soothing aroma will help Y/n relax.
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Y/n stirs as Charles gently shakes her shoulder, his deep voice cutting through the haze of sleep. "Mon amour, the food is here. I also made you some tea if you'd like."
She blinks groggily, her hair tousled from sleep. "Mmm, okay," she mumbles, sitting up slowly. Her legs feel heavy as she swings them over the side of the bed, and she reaches for Charles' hand for support.
He helps her to her feet, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her. "Take your time, ma chérie. No need to rush."
Together, they make their way out of the bedroom and into the living room. The savory scent of pizza fills the air, making Y/n's stomach growl. She smiles gratefully at Charles as he guides her to the couch, helping her sit down before retrieving her mug of tea.
"Thank you," she says softly, taking a sip of the warm, fragrant liquid. The chamomile soothes her throat and helps clear the last remnants of sleep from her mind.
Y/n takes a bite of her pizza, savoring the rich flavors as she gathers her thoughts. Charles watches her patiently, his blue eyes filled with understanding.
"So, tell me about your day, mon amour," he prompts gently. "What happened at work?"
Y/n sighs, setting down her slice. "It's just been incredibly busy lately. We're swamped with projects and deadlines, and as the team leader, it feels like everything falls on my shoulders."
She runs a hand through her hair, frustration evident in the tense set of her shoulders. "Don't get me wrong, I'm proud to be a female leader in a male-dominated field. But sometimes I just want to be... I don't know, normal? Without the added pressure and expectations."
Y/n continues, her voice tinged with weariness. "I mean, I love my job and I'm grateful for the opportunities I've been given. But some days, like today, it just feels like too much. I'm constantly juggling tasks, putting out fires, and trying to keep everyone motivated."
She takes another sip of tea, the warmth spreading through her chest. "And then there's the added pressure of being a woman in a leadership role. I feel like I have to prove myself twice as hard, work twice as long, just to be taken seriously."
Charles reaches over and takes her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I understand, ma chérie. It's not easy being in your position. But remember, you're not alone. You have me, and I'm here to support you in whatever way I can."
Y/n looks at him gratefully, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I know. And that means more to me than you realize. Having you here, ready to listen and help, makes all the difference."
Her cheeks flush slightly as she speaks, a mix of vulnerability and affection in her eyes. "You always make me feel cherished, Charles. Even when we're... intimate, I never feel objectified or used. You treat me like a partner, not just a plaything."
She leans in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "And when you take control, when you're rough with me... it's like I can let go of all the pressure and expectations. I can just be me, not the team leader or the successful career woman. It's liberating."
Charles brings Y/n's hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles. His blue eyes sparkle with adoration as he gazes at her. "You are my first priority, baby. Always. In every aspect of our life together."
He sets aside his own plate of pizza, turning to face her fully. "Your happiness, your well-being, your pleasure... those are what matter most to me. Whether we're in the bedroom or out in the world, I want you to know that you come first."
Y/n's heart swells with love and gratitude as she looks at Charles, his words echoing in her mind. "I don't know what I'd do without you," she admits softly, her voice thick with emotion. "You're my rock, my safe haven. I can always count on you to be there for me, no matter what."
She reaches up to cup his cheek, her thumb brushing over his stubbled jaw. "I love you, Charles. More than anything in this world. And I promise, no matter how stressful work gets, I'll always come home to you. You're my priority too."
Charles leans into her touch, his eyes closing briefly as he savors the feeling of her skin against his. When he opens them again, they're filled with a fierce protectiveness. "I love you too, mon amour. More than life itself. And I'll always be here to support you, to lift you up, and to remind you of how incredible you are."
As the movie plays on in the background, Y/n shifts restlessly on top of Charles, trying to find a comfortable position. She squirms and wriggles, her movements causing friction between her body and his. Unbeknownst to Charles, Y/n's subtle motions are deliberate, her pussy rubbing against the growing bulge in his sweatpants.
She bites her lip to stifle a moan, the sensation of his hardness pressing against her core sending tingles of pleasure through her body. Charles, oblivious to her intentions, wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her closer.
"Is everything alright, mon amour?" he asks, noticing her fidgeting. "Do you need to get up?"
Y/n shakes her head, a coy smile playing on her lips. "No, I'm fine. Just trying to get comfortable." She continues to grind against him, her movements becoming more purposeful.
Charles' brow furrows slightly as he feels Y/n's movements become more deliberate. A spark of realization dawns in his eyes as he glances down, noticing the way she's subtly humping against him. A slow, knowing smirk spreads across his face.
"Is that so?" he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Because it seems to me like you're trying to start something, ma chérie."
Y/n blushes, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. She tries to play innocent, batting her lashes at him. "I don't know what you're talking about," she giggles, continuing her movements.
Charles chuckles, his hands sliding down to grip her hips. He guides her movements, helping her grind against him more firmly. "Oh, I think you do," he teases, his own arousal growing with each pass of her heat against his clothed cock.
Y/n gasps softly, her head falling back as she loses herself in the sensation. "Charles..." she breathes, her voice heavy with desire.
Charles pulls Y/n down, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of her neck. His warm breath sends shivers down her spine as he whispers in her ear, "What do you want, baby? What do you want to do? Tell me."
Y/n's response is cut off by a sharp gasp as her clit rubs firmly against Charles' hardness. The intense sensation makes her toes curl and her thighs tremble. "I... I want..." she stammers, her mind clouding with lust.
Charles grins, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips as he guides her movements. "Yes, ma chérie? What do you want?" he prompts, his voice a low rumble in her ear.
Y/n's head lolls back, her hair cascading down her shoulders as she grinds against him with increasing desperation. "I want you," she finally manages to say, her voice thick with need. "I want you inside me, Charles. Please..."
Charles' smile turns wicked as he recalls Y/n's earlier words about finding liberation in his dominance. "No, mon amour," he purrs, his fingers tightening on her hips. "Work for it. Show me how bad you want me inside you."
Y/n's eyes widen, a mix of surprise and arousal flickering across her face. She nods eagerly, her movements becoming more frenzied as she grinds against him. "Yes, Charles," she breathes, her voice submissive and needy. "Please, let me show you..."
She redoubles her efforts, her hips undulating in a sensual dance as she seeks to drive them both wild with desire. Her pussy throbs with need, aching to be filled by his hard cock. Y/n whimpers and moans, lost in the haze of lust, desperate to prove her desire for him.
She continues to grind against Charles, her movements becoming more urgent and needy. The heat radiating from her core is unmistakable, and soon a damp spot begins to form on the front of his sweatpants. Lost in the throes of passion, neither of them notice the growing wetness.
Charles' head lolls back, his eyes closed in bliss as he feels the scorching heat of Y/n's pussy pressed against his clothed erection. "Fuck, mon amour," he groans, his hips bucking up to meet her downward thrusts. "You're so fucking wet for me. I can feel it soaking through my pants."
Y/n whimpers and mewls, her voice rising in pitch as she chases her impending orgasm. The friction of her clit rubbing against his hardness is almost too much to bear. "Please, Charles," she begs, her nails digging into his shoulders. "I need you. I need your cock inside me. Please..."
Y/n's movements grow more frantic as she nears the edge, her hips gyrating wildly against Charles' clothed erection. She's so close, teetering on the brink of a powerful orgasm. But just as she's about to tip over, Charles' hands tighten on her hips, slowing her down.
"Did I tell you to speed up?" he asks, his voice stern despite the lust clouding his eyes. "No, I didn't. You're not in control here, Y/n. I am."
Y/n whines in frustration, her body trembling with the effort of holding back her climax. "Please, Charles," she begs, her voice high and needy. "I'm so close. I need to cum. Please let me cum."
Charles shakes his head, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Not yet, mon amour. You haven't earned it. You need to work harder for your prize."
Y/n's eyes fill with tears as she pleads with Charles, her voice cracking with desperation. "Please, sir," she whimpers, her hips still grinding against him despite his commands. "I'll be good, I promise. I'll do anything you want. Just please, let me cum. I need it so badly."
Charles' expression softens slightly as he sees the tears streaming down her face. He reaches up to wipe them away with his thumb, his touch gentle despite his firm demeanor. "Shh, ma chérie," he soothes. "You have no reason to cry. If you've done your job correctly, you'll get your reward. Crying isn't going to do anything for you right now."
Y/n nods, sniffing back her tears. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what's to come. "I'm sorry, sir," she says, her voice meek and submissive. "I'll try harder. I'll do whatever it takes to please you."
He smiles approvingly at Y/n's obedience. "Good girl," he praises, his voice low and husky. "Now show me again how bad you want my cock to fill you up, okay?"
Y/n nods eagerly, her eyes shining with determination. She takes a deep breath, centering herself, before beginning to grind against Charles once more. Her movements are slow and sensual at first, her hips rolling in a deliberate rhythm.
As she gains momentum, her pace quickens, her pussy rubbing insistently against the bulge in Charles' sweatpants. Soft moans and whimpers spill from her lips as she loses herself in the sensation, her body undulating with need.
"Please, Charles," she gasps, her voice ragged with desire. "I need you inside me. I need to feel you stretching me, filling me. Please, sir, give me what I crave."
Charles cups Y/n's cheek, his thumb gently caressing her skin as he wipes away the stray tears. His blue eyes are filled with a mix of tenderness and lust as he gazes at her. "You look so adorable like this, begging for me," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. "So desperate and needy, all for me. It's beautiful, mon amour."
Y/n leans into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment as she savors the feeling of his hand on her face. "I am desperate for you, Charles," she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. "Only you can satisfy me, can give me what I need."
She opens her eyes, locking her gaze with his, the intensity of her desire burning bright in their depths. "Please, sir," she implores, her hips still grinding against him in a slow, sensual rhythm. "I'll do anything, be anything you want. Just please, let me have you. Let me feel you inside me."
Charles groans, his resolve crumbling under the weight of Y/n's desperate pleas and the feel of her hot, wet pussy grinding against him. "Fuck, mon amour," he growls, his hand sliding down to grip her hip tightly. "Cum for me, baby. You deserve it. Let go and give yourself to me."
Y/n's eyes widen, a gasp escaping her lips as Charles gives her permission. She nods frantically, her hips moving faster, more urgently, seeking the release she so desperately craves. "Yes, Charles!" she cries, her voice high and needy. "I'm cumming! Fuck- I'm cumming!"
Her body tenses, her muscles coiling tight as her orgasm approaches. With a final, hard grind against Charles' clothed cock, she comes undone, her pussy clenching and fluttering as waves of pleasure crash over her. "Oh god, oh fuck, Charles!" she moans, her head thrown back in ecstasy.
Y/n's body shudders and trembles as her orgasm washes over her, her pussy clenching and releasing in rhythmic pulses. She whimpers and moans against Charles' chest, her hips continuing to grind against him, riding out the waves of pleasure.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," she chants, her voice muffled against his skin. "It feels so good, Charles. So fucking good."
Charles strokes the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her black hair as he holds her close. "That's it, mon amour," he encourages, his voice low and soothing. "Keep going. You're doing so well. I know it feels amazing. Come on, you can do it. Let it all out."
Y/n whimpers and moans, her body still shaking with the aftershocks of her climax. She continues to grind against Charles, her movements becoming slower, more languid as she comes down from her high.
Y/n collapses against Charles, her body spent and sated in the aftermath of her intense orgasm. She pants heavily, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps as she tries to catch her breath. "Fuck, Charles," she whispers, her voice hoarse and raw. "That was so good. So fucking good."
Charles chuckles, his chest rumbling beneath her as he holds her close. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, ma chérie," he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. "You did so well, taking your pleasure like that. I'm proud of you."
Charles looks down at Y/n, concern etched on his features as he takes in her exhausted state. "Are you sure you still want me inside you, mon amour?" he asks gently, his hand stroking her back soothingly. "You seem so tired. We can wait if you need to rest."
But Y/n shakes her head vehemently, her eyes wide and pleading as she gazes up at him. "Yes, yes, yes please," she begs, her voice desperate. "I can do it, Charles. I can take it. I need you inside me. Please, I'm begging you."
Charles' resolve wavers, his cock twitching in his pants at the sight of her desperation. He knows he shouldn't, knows she needs rest, but the hunger in her eyes is too much to resist. "Alright, ma chérie," he growls, his hands gripping her hips firmly. "If you're sure you can handle it..."
Charles flips Y/n over onto her stomach, her ass high in the air as she presents herself to him. The wet spot on her shorts from her previous orgasm is clearly visible, evidence of her arousal.
"Fuck," Charles growls, his eyes darkening with lust as he takes in the sight of her. "Look at you, so wet and ready for me. Your pussy is practically dripping."
He runs his hand over the damp fabric, feeling the heat radiating from her core. Y/n whimpers and arches her back, pushing her ass higher, silently begging for more.
Charles slides his hand beneath Y/n's shorts, his fingers seeking out her slick, swollen folds. "Mmm, so wet," he murmurs, teasing her entrance with the tips of his fingers. "You want me to fill you up, don't you, ma chérie? Want me to cum inside this tight little pussy?"
She bucks against his hand, her hips rolling back as she seeks more contact. "Yes, Charles, please," she begs, her voice high and needy. "I want you to breed me. I want to feel you cumming deep inside me."
Charles groans, his cock throbbing at her filthy words. "Fuck, mon amour," he growls, his fingers delving deeper, stroking along her inner walls. "You want my dick stretching you out, don't you? Want me to claim this sweet cunt as mine?"
Charles' fingers pump in and out of Y/n's dripping pussy, her velvety walls clenching around him as he strokes her most sensitive spots. "Fuck, mon amour," he groans, his thumb circling her swollen clit. "Your cunt is clenching so hard around my fingers. You're so fucking needy for my cock."
Y/n moans shamelessly, her hips rocking back to meet his thrusts. "Yes, sir," she pants, her voice ragged with desire. "I need to be bred. I need you to fill me up, make me yours."
Charles' eyes darken with lust at her words, his imagination running wild with visions of Y/n's belly swollen with his child. "You'd look so beautiful pregnant with my baby," he growls, his fingers curling inside her. "I bet you'd make such a good mommy. Fuck, I can't wait to see you with my child."
The thought of Y/n pregnant with his child sends Charles into a frenzy of lust. He needs to make it a reality, to claim her womb and fill it with his seed. With a growl, he withdraws his fingers from her dripping cunt, leaving her empty and aching.
Quickly, he shoves his sweatpants down, freeing his throbbing cock. It springs forth, hard and heavy, the tip glistening with pre-cum. Y/n whimpers at the sight, her pussy clenching around nothing.
Charles makes quick work of her shorts, yanking them down her thighs and exposing her glistening folds to his hungry gaze. "Fuck, look at this pretty little cunt," he groans, giving her ass a sharp smack. "So wet and ready for me."
He teases her entrance with the head of his cock, rubbing it up and down her slit, coating himself in her slick arousal. Y/n bucks back, desperate for more, but Charles denies her, keeping his movements light and teasing.
Charles grips Y/n's hips tightly, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he lines himself up with her entrance. With a slow, deliberate thrust, he sinks into her welcoming heat, inch by inch, until he's buried to the hilt.
Y/n cries out, her back arching as she's stretched and filled by his thick cock. Even though they've been together countless times, her body never fails to adjust to his impressive size. "Fuck, Charles," she gasps, her nails scrabbling against the couch. "You're so big."
He groans, his hips settling flush against her ass as he gives her a moment to adjust. "That's it, ma chérie," he murmurs, his hand stroking soothing circles on her lower back. "Take all of me. Fuck, you feel so good.”
Charles begins to move, his hips rocking in a slow, steady rhythm as he pulls out and thrusts back in. Each stroke is deliberate, designed to make Y/n feel every inch of his cock as it slides along her sensitive walls.
"Mmm, that's it," he groans, his hand coming down to grip her hip, steadying her as he picks up the pace. "Feel that, mon amour? Feel how deep I am inside you? How I'm stretching this tight little pussy?"
Y/n whimpers and moans, her body undulating beneath him as he claims her. "Yes, Charles, yes," she chants, her voice rising in pitch as he hits that spot inside her that makes her see stars. "Harder, please. I need more."
Charles obliges, his thrusts growing stronger, more forceful. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, punctuated by their moans and cries of pleasure.
Y/n's body begins to shake, overwhelmed by the intense pleasure coursing through her. Tears stream down her face as Charles pounds into her, each thrust hitting her deepest, most sensitive spots.
"What's wrong, ma chérie?" Charles asks, his voice a low growl. "Can't take my dick? How am I supposed to make you a mommy when you can't even handle a few thrusts?"
Y/n sobs, her pussy clenching around him as if trying to hold him inside. "I can take it," she gasps, her voice strained. "I can take it, Charles. Please, don't stop. I need it. I need you to fill me up, to breed me."
Charles groans, his hips snapping forward harder, faster. "That's it, mon amour," he grunts, his fingers digging into her hips. "Take it like a good girl, okay?”
Y/n nods frantically, her face pressed against the couch cushions as Charles pounds into her from behind. "Yes, yes, please," she gasps, her words muffled by the fabric. "Harder, Charles, fuck me harder!"
Charles obliges, his hips slamming against her ass with bruising force. The couch creaks and shakes beneath them, the sound of their bodies colliding filling the room. "That's it, mon amour," he growls, his hand fisting in her hair, holding her head down. "Take it like a good girl. You're doing so fucking well."
Y/n whimpers and moans, her pussy clenching around Charles' pistoning cock. She can feel her orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter in her core. "I'm close," she pants, her voice ragged. "I'm gonna cum, Charles. Please, please, please..."
His grip on Y/n's hair tightens as he feels her pussy fluttering around him, signaling her impending orgasm. "You gonna cum for me, ma chérie?" he growls, his hips never faltering in their relentless pace. "Do it. You deserve it. Cum on my cock like a good little slut."
Y/n screams as her orgasm crashes over her, her body convulsing beneath Charles. Her pussy clamps down on him like a vice, rippling and pulsing as she rides out the waves of pleasure. "Charles!" she cries, her voice raw and broken. "Fuck, Charles, I'm cumming! I'm cumming!"
He groans, his thrusts growing erratic as he chases his own release. "Fuck, baby," he grunts, his balls drawing up tight. "Gonna fill this pussy up. Gonna breed you, make you mine."
He buries himself deep inside Y/n as he reaches his peak, his cock pulsing as he fills her with his hot, thick cum. He groans long and low, his hips jerking with each spurt of his release.
Y/n whimpers, her pussy milking him for every last drop as she feels him flooding her womb. When he finally pulls out, a trickle of his seed leaks from her well-fucked hole, dripping down her thighs.
"Fuck, look at that," Charles growls, his fingers scooping up the cum and pushing it back inside her. "Such a messy little slut. You're not going to let any of my cum out, understand? You're going to keep it all inside this greedy cunt."
He leans down, pressing soft kisses to the globes of her ass as he continues to finger her, stirring his seed deep inside her. "Good girl," he murmurs, his breath hot against her skin. "Such a good girl, taking my cum so well.”
Y/n comes down from her high, her body goes limp beneath Charles, her breathing slowing as she catches her breath. Charles continues to stroke her hair soothingly, pressing gentle kisses to her shoulders and back.
"Shh, it's okay, mon amour," he murmurs, his voice soft and soothing. "You did so well. I'm so proud of you."
He carefully maneuvers them so that they're lying on their sides, spooning on the couch. He wraps his arms around her, holding her close, one hand resting possessively on her lower belly.
"Rest now," he whispers, nuzzling her neck. "Let me take care of you."
Y/n sighs contentedly, snuggling back against him. "Mmm, Charles," she murmurs, her voice sleepy and sated. "That was... incredible. I love you so much."
Charles smiles, pressing a tender kiss to her temple. "I love you too, ma chérie," he replies softly. "More than anything."
He strokes Y/n's hair gently, his fingers combing through the silky strands. "Feeling better now, mon amour?" he asks softly, his voice warm with concern. "After what happened at work today?"
Y/n sighs, her body melting further into Charles' embrace. "I don't even remember what happened at work," she admits, her voice small and distant.
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lovemomhatepolice · 3 months ago
Text
slice of paradise - lando norris
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pairing: lando norris x fem!reader
warnings: established relationship, p in v, blowjob, handjob, unprotected sex! (protect yourself), slight!public sex, English is my second language!
type: smut with the plot, fluff also
word count: 3,5k
belonging: NO NUT NOVEMBER
summary: moments in paradise on Lando's 25th birthday turn out to be even hotter than the weather in Bora Bora
more content: formula 1 masterlist, lando norris masterlist, latest lando's one-shot
The gentle golden rays of the morning sun streamed in through the open balcony door, casting a soft glow across the room. The sound of waves rhythmically crashing on the shore filled the air, mingling with the smell of the salty ocean breeze. Lando slowly woke up, blinking and looking at his surroundings. They had arrived in Bora Bora last night, and aside from eating the dinner the girl had ordered especially for a pre-birthday surprise, they had no energy for more activity and simply went to sleep. The flight from England had exhausted them both enough.
Lando blinked a few more times, letting his eyes get used to the light coming into their room, through the fact that they had not closed the curtains yesterday. He could hear the soft rustling of palm trees outside and the faint chirping of distant birds greeting the new day. For a while he just lay there, savoring the sound of the ocean and the softness of the bed beneath him. His gaze fell to his side, where his girlfriend lay snuggled into him, breathing quietly and rhythmically. The boy smiled to himself and placed a kiss on her head. He didn't want to wake her up, but, as usual, that didn't work out, and just a moment later he could see her eyes gazing lazily but happily into his blue irises.
"Morning" he said, smiling from ear to ear.
She blinked sleepily before her gaze settled on Lando, a sleepy smile spreading across her lips. “Good morning,” she whispered, her voice still husky with sleep. “Happy birthday, baby.”
“Thanks, love,” he replied, leaning in to brush a soft kiss on her forehead. “I couldn’t have asked for a better start to my day.”
“All the best for you,” muttered the girl, lightly moving towards him and kissing him on the lips.
Smiling, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer to him so that she was now sitting on his lap. Lando held her firmly but gently around the waist so she wouldn't fall, and rubbed his palms against her sides. “Thank you for this.”
“You don't have anything to thank me for yet, Lan” the girl said stroking his bare chest. “The day has just begun”
The couple spent an even longer moment in bed, laughing and talking to each other about the silliest little things. Lando couldn't stop admiring her; even with tumbled hair and sleepy eyes, she was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. And while Bora Bora had delighted him like no other landscape before, she took his breath away every time.
The girl leaned in to kiss him, gently stroking his jaw, which was covered with a small stubble. Lando felt that he could stay in bed all day because of this, and it would still be the best birthday of his life. However, his girlfriend had other plans and got out of bed, leaving her boyfriend groaning, not wanting her to leave him. Or at least not so soon.
“Wait,” she said, standing at the door in just her underwear shirt. “We'll start the surprises.”
Lando merely nodded and lay back on the pillows, listening to the sounds that came from the kitchen. It wasn't long until the girl came back into the room again. In her hand was a large tray with a bowl of fruit, freshly baked croissants and orange juices. Lando only smiled under his breath at this. Never before had anyone brought him breakfast in bed.
“Will you close your eyes?” the girl asked, putting the tray down on the bedside table.
“What for?” asked the boy dumbfoundedly, looking at his girlfriend.
But who would he be if he didn't do what she asked? He certainly wouldn't be himself. Therefore, just a moment later, he closed his eyes, smiling under his breath to himself.
[Y.N] didn't wait a moment and grabbed a small cake with “25” candles in her hand and walked back into their shared bedroom, singing “Happy Birthday.” Lando immediately opened his eyes and laughed out loud.
“You're spoiling me,” he teased as she climbed back into bed next to him. “But I'm not complaining.”
“Make a wish, birthday boy.”
Lando pretended to ponder the wish for a long moment, but it was not true at all. He had everything he wanted. A beautiful woman by his side who loved him beyond life. A second place in the drivers' championship, which was still a mystery as to how it would end. And he also had temporary peace of mind, which he regained after a long battle with his own psyche. So he just closed his eyes, blowing out the candles, and a smile crept onto his lips.
“What was your wish?” the girl asked, carefully removing the candles from the cake.
“I can't say, because it won't come true,” Lando laughed and scooped some cream onto his finger, tasting it. “Mm, did you bake it yourself?”
“No, not this time,” she replied, pounting slightly. “It wouldn't have survived the trip.”
“It's ok, it's good too,” he said, pulling her closer to him. He grabbed a fork in his hand, which was lying next to cake on a plate, and scooped up some on it. “Would you like to try?”
“Yup, we'll see if it tastes as good as it looks.”
Lando merely nodded and put the fork in her mouth. As the girl savored the chocolate taste of the cake, Lando dipped the fork into the cake again, but this time it landed on the girl's nose. Accidentally, of course.
“Oops?”
“Lando!” she laughed, but before she could wipe the cream off her nose, the boy did it for her.
“Oh, I think you're still dirty here,” he muttered, touching her lips with his thumb.
“Oh, really?” she asked teasingly. “And what are we going to do about it?”
“I think I have an idea,” Lando said, putting the cake back on the nightstand.
[Y.N] looked adoringly at her boyfriend. Lando looked even better than usual in this light. The golden rays of the sun that streamed into their room perfectly illuminated his year-tanned figure. There was a glow reflected in his eyes, and the girl could have sworn that for the first time in a long time she saw such peace in them. He was in just his boxers, because that was the most comfortable way for him to sleep, and his curls in a freshly cut mullet lay in every direction. But that was the most beautiful thing about that moment, that's what she wanted to give him from the beginning when she thought about what she could organize for his birthday. Tranquility and privacy, the things he missed most.
“Are you enjoying what you're looking at?” Lando laughed, correcting himself slightly in his position.
“You don't even know how much.”
The couple smiled at each other, and just a moment later Lando landed in the girl's embrace. [Y.N] hold him by the neck, hugging him tightly to herself. And Lando hovered over her, holding her around the waist, then by her hips. The laughs and kisses were endless. In the end, it could only be them…
~~ After breakfast, they wasted no time. They quickly changed into bathing suits and took the most necessary things with them to the beach, which was right next to their cottage. And most importantly, it was private and no human being could see them from a distance of a several dozen kilometers.
Lando stood up to his knees in the turquoise water, with the waves crashing against his legs. He sighed contentedly and closed his eyes, savoring the warmth of the sun on his skin and the soothing sound of the ocean. He could have sworn that he could have sat in the water all day and wouldn't have been bored at all.
“Do you like it?” asked [Y.N], suddenly joining him in the water.
“Yes, it's perfect,” he muttered, turning to face her. “Come on, let's cool off a bit.”
Lando began to swim further away from the shore, followed by [Y.N]. The water was perfect. Not only was it just the right temperature after a long sunbath, it was also a beautiful color through which you could see the bottom. As they waded deeper, the gentle waves lapped at their bodies.
“It's so beautiful here,” the girl muttered, swimming up to Lando.
[Y.N] put her hands on his shoulders, and without hesitation he pulled her to him by the waist. Lando couldn't take his eyes off her; she looked like a goddess, her smile brighter than the sun. With a grin, he suddenly scooped her up into his arms, wrapping her legs around his hips.
“And what do you plan to do now that you’ve got me?”
Lando’s grip tightened around her, his fingers pressing into the curve of her back. “I think I’ll keep you here for a bit,” he murmured, his voice a mix of playful and husky as he dipped his head to kiss her shoulder, trailing soft kisses up her neck. [Y.N]'s breath hitched, her fingers tangling in his hair as he continued his slow kisses, each one leaving a trail of heat on her skin.
They stayed like that for a moment, lost in each other, until [Y.N] pulled back with a playful glint in her eyes. “Catch me if you can!” she declared before wriggling out of his grasp and splashing away.
Lando laughed, momentarily stunned, but the challenge in her voice spurred him on. “You won't get away that easily! - he called out, sprinting after her as she rushed down the beach. The sand was hot under his feet, but he barely noticed, focusing entirely on the girl in front of him.
The girl was fast, but she couldn't beat her boyfriend, not in speed. Within seconds Lando caught up with her and they both collapsed on the soft sand. Out of breath and laughing, they rolled in the sand for a while, like children.
“You catch me,” she said between sighs, with her cheeks flushed and her eyes shining with joy.
“I always have and I always will.” - He replied, leaning in to kiss her.
This time the kiss was slower, deeper, as if time had no meaning there. The girl's hands slid into his damp hair, gently tugging at the ends as she arched her back, pressing their bodies closer together.
Lando's hands roamed her body, feeling the warmth of her sun-moistened skin under his fingertips. He slipped one of his hands under her bathing suit and clamped his palm over her breast, teasing an already hard nipple. The girl purred into his mouth, apparently asking for more.
“You're so beautiful,” whispered Lando, his voice muffled by her greedy mouth.
She didn't want to pull away from him, finally having him all to herself. Without the nitty-gritty world of the media and the fight for the Championship. Here he was simply Lando, not Lando Norris the Mclaren driver. And while she loved every version of him, the domestic one was her favorite.
The girl let out a quiet moan as his lips descended on her neck. He kissed and nibbled at the places he knew were most sensitive to her. Her fingers tightened again on his hair as she tilted her head back, giving him better access.
“Lando…” she breathed, her voice barely exceeding a whisper. “I want you…”
“Here? - He teased her. “Someone could see it.”
“It's a good thing we're alone then.” - She replied with a smile. “I booked this place for a reason.”
“Clever beast,” he laughed under his breath.
“Mhm,” she whispered, bringing their lips together again. “It's your birthday, so you'll be spoiled.”
Before Lando had time to respond the girl turned them around so that now it was the boy who was lying with his back on the sand. He laughed under his breath and propped his head up with his hands, leaning on them.
With the utmost fierceness, she touched his dick through his swim trunks, at which the boy sighed and drew her close, bringing their lips together in a clumsy kiss. [Y.N] palmed him through his shorts, sliding her hand under them. Lando was already hard, he didn't need much when she was next to him. “Already hard, all for me,” she muttered into his lips and moved away from him. She placed kisses all over his warm chest, which at that moment was terribly heated from the sun. And Lando did not take his eyes off her. Until her lips kissed his length through his shorts. Then involuntarily his head flew back, and he let out an impatient moan. [Y.N] didn't keep him in suspense for long and practically immediately took off the unnecessary clothes and momentarily moved her hand over his cock, while kissing him gently there. “I'm begging you,” he muttered, pushing his hips out slightly to meet her. "No teasing" “Wait, birthday boy, I want to give you as much pleasure as possible,” she muttered at his tip, which was already dripping with pre cum. Lando didn't have to ask for long. Her lips were immediately on his, showering him with kisses. As she teased him with her hand, she placed tender kisses on his inner thighs. But today she didn't want to tease him, not on his birthday.
She immediately returned to his length, taking him all the way into her mouth. Her lip gloss left shiny traces on him, but no one seemed to mind. Lando was a groaning mess beneath her and thanked the gods that no one can hear or saw them.
“Fuck, [Y.N]” he groaned, combing her hair gently. The girl continued sucking on his hard member, her tongue moving nimbly, testing his cum. She bobbed her head up and down, varying the speed so as to give him as much pleasure as possible. Her hands quickly found a place - one on his testicles and the other holding his hand.
She knew he was close. She could feel it when his dick began to pulsate pleasantly in her mouth as she sucked harder on it. Lando didn't give much thought to it either as he just stroked her hair, and only her name fell out of his mouth like a mantra. He wasn't ashamed of it, he knew who made him feel as good as he never had in his life, and he wanted her to know too. “Cum for me pretty boy,” she whispered, sucking him. She looked at him from under her long lashes and their gazes met. And here Lando was lost. In the blink of an eye, the girl felt his cum in her throat and mouth, which filled it completely. The girl swallowed it all and suck him for a while longer to help him come down from his orgasm. “Fuck, that was so good,” Lando muttered and pulled his girl to him, unhesitatingly connecting their lips. The kiss was hot, full of passion. Their hands roamed the other's body. Lando didn’t wait any longer and began to remove her bikini, which was then even more unnecessary than usual. He changed their position so that now he was on top of her, supporting himself with his hands on the sand next to her body. “I guess it's my turn now, huh?” he murmured into her mouth and was already about to descend, but [Y.N] stopped him. “I don't need it, it's enough for me when you're inside me,” she kissed him, nipping on his lip.
"You sure?" he asked, looking at her.
The girl only nodded, smiling encouragingly at him. They were both already out of breath and damn near overheated, but they didn't want to leave this beach for anything.
As if on cue, Lando moved his member closer to her, teasing her pussy with his tip. Their liquids mingled together, to which the boy moaned, being offered this sight. Oh, she was the whole world to him. And when they were together, the rest of the world might not have existed at all. Lando positioned himself with his dick at the entrance [Y.N] and slowly but smoothly entered her, feeling the familiar warmth around his member. They both moaned, getting used to the feeling. They hadn't made love to each other in quite a while due to lack of time, so this was even more sensual and desired. “You're perfect,” he muttered, moving his hips more and more smoothly. His movements were precise, he knew exactly what was most pleasurable for them. He knew her body like no one else. And he could swear he knew it better than his own, or at least he wanted to know it more. “Lando,” she moaned, extending her hands to him. The boy immediately fell into her embrace, changing the angle at which they were now having sex. And it was even better for them, because every time Lando hit that right spot. His hand tangled in her hair, while the other touched her clit to give her even more pleasure. [Y.N] hugged his neck with one hand, and with the other she played with her nipples, which at that moment were all hard. Their lips met in a searing kiss, every now and then separated by their moans and smiles. Lando felt that they were close, so he sped up even more, and the girl pushed her hips toward him. At that moment, they loved each other harder than ever. They were both hot from the sun, breathless, and their hair looked like the biggest tussle. Their bodies were merging together at a dizzying pace, making a bloody mess all around. But they didn't give a damn. They didn't give a damn what was going on behind their backs. In their apartment. Among the fans or other drivers. It was their time, and they would give anything to keep it that way forever. Without the slightest change.
"You're taking me so well, like always" he murmured against her lips, smiling cheeky.
Lando's words and their gazes meeting again accelerated the orgasm from which they were only seconds away. The pressure inside them grew with every second, and they just snuggled into each other, smiling like fools. Lando pressed her clit harder and with his thumb rubbed it properly as she needed. “You are so good to me,” the girl muttered, kissing the corner of his mouth. “I love you so much,” Lando said, smacking her a few times on the lips. And with that, they both came. Their bodies were pierced by the jolt of orgasm, and Lando continued to move inside her, letting all the cum stay inside. And then he sank down on top of her, trying to do it as gently as possible. He kissed her sensitive breasts, which had not received enough attention from him during intercourse. And [Y.N] stroked his back, drawing slight marks. “You know I couldn't have imagined a better birthday?” Lando whispered, pulling slightly away from her chest to look into her eyes. Their gazes met again in that gaze that only they knew. And which was reserved for just the two of them. All that could be heard in the background were seagulls and waves crashing on the shore. The air was filled with the sea breeze and the smell of colorful flowers that grew somewhere nearby. “Well, maybe they would be even better if there were three of us here,” he muttered again, looking deeper into her eyes. They both knew he spoke sincerely. That's what they both wanted, too - to start a family, to relax a bit in a homey corner of their Monaco's apartment. No chasing, just them and the fruit of their love.
And what was their surprise when a month later [Y.N] discovered two lines on her pregnancy test before New Year's Eve...
Well, the wish seems to have come true?
[TO BE CONTINUED]
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A/N: I guess it didn't turn out so bad, right? happy birthday to our pretty boy landhinio!
please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)
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moonstruckme · 8 months ago
Text
summary: your roommate James plots to befriend a shy you
part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13
roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1k words
The apartment is loud and messy when you come home, and James immediately feels bad about it. You freeze in the door like a doe in the woods, a few of his friends pausing their conversations to greet you from where they’re scattered haphazardly about the living room. 
You give a terse smile and beeline for the stairs. You’re wearing your work clothes, dirty and rumpled from a long shift, and it doesn’t escape James’ notice that you’ve bypassed the kitchen in your hurry to get to your room. You seem to have an aversion to being witnessed. He makes a mental note to check that you’ve eaten later. 
“Oh, do you work at Rizzo’s?” Lily asks you, evidently recognizing the uniform. You stall halfway up the stairs, and James suppresses a smile at your obvious reluctance. 
“Yeah,” you reply, voice even quieter than usual. 
“My friend works there.” Lily’s friendly demeanor is unphased by your timidity. The two of you have met before, like you’ve met most of his friends, in passing. “Do you know Mona?” 
You nod, easing up a bit. James wonders at the fact that you’ve lingered as long as you have, but then he notices Sirius noticing you, and he prays his friend doesn’t say anything to make you regret it. 
“Yeah, we’ve worked some of the same shifts,” you say. “She’s nice.” 
Lily grins at the confirmation. James braces himself as Sirius angles his head. 
“What do you do there, lovely?” 
The endearment instantly flusters you. Your shoulders tighten and your hand flexes on the banister as though to keep yourself from bolting. “I’m a host,” you say. 
“That’s nice.” Sirius’ grin is intentionally disarming, lopsided and flirtatious. You look as though you’re not sure what to make of it. “I’m sure it makes for good business to have the pretty girls welcoming customers.” 
It’s your last straw. You mumble something about it being nice to see them and all but dash up to your room. James hears your door shut with a soft click. 
Sirius frowns. “Skittish thing, isn’t she?” 
“Tosser.” Remus pulls him roughly against his side, rolling his eyes when Sirius wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s torso sulkily. 
“I was paying her a compliment.”  
“She’s just shy.” James doesn’t know why he feels the need to explain you, exactly. Your diffidence is fairly obvious now, but he still feels a bit guilty for thinking you just hated him when he first moved in. After knowing Remus for so long, he thought he’d be able to tell the difference between shyness and standoffishness. Now apparently he feels responsible for liaising between you and his friends. “You knew you were going to embarrass her, prick.” 
The conversation turns to Sirius’ tendency to verbally prod at those with quieter demeanors, which he denies vehemently and Remus corroborates with pointed looks but not much commentary. 
Once they’ve gone, James goes up to your room with a sandwich. The door is cracked but he knocks anyway, waiting for your quiet “come in” before he pushes it the rest of the way open. 
“Figured you might’ve missed dinner,” he says by way of greeting, going to set the plate down on your bed. 
It takes effort not to let his eyes roam the room. He can see in his periphery that your desk is cluttered but neat and your walls covered with pictures and art. An effect of your reticence is that, aside from what sort of shampoo you use and how often you need to restock the milk in the fridge, James knows very little about you. He knows you’re a good roommate. You’re clean, you don’t bicker about the thermostat, and you haven’t even seemed cross with him for eating the rest of your oreos (which he’s going to replace, seriously, as soon as he remembers to go to the store). You’re quiet, obviously, but along with that you seem kind. 
Honestly, it makes him a bit uncomfortable that you don’t seem to want to be friends. James is only human; he likes being liked, even more so by nice girls with pretty smiles, and it seems crucial that he be liked by nice girls with pretty smiles who he shares a living space with. If you’re going to brush your teeth using the same sink as somebody, you should be on good terms. James believes this. 
And though he hasn’t had to work so hard for friendship in some years, he is diligent. He thinks he’ll bring you around yet. 
Evidence of progress: the happy-surprised look in your eyes when you spot the sandwich. 
“Thank you,” you say, a tender sort of bemusement lining your words. “You didn’t have to do this.” 
“Well, if you’ve actually missed dinner, you probably ought to eat something more substantial,” James hedges. He pushes his luck, sitting across from you on your bed. “I don’t want to be an accomplice to your snacks-for-meals agenda.” That wins him a small smile. “But I do feel bad, keeping you from your own kitchen because I have friends over.” 
Your eyes flit away at the last bit. You take a hearty bite of your sandwich, chewing to avoid a reply.
“You should know, you are actually paying rent for the whole apartment,” he says, “not just your room.” 
You look chastened as you swallow, but you wave him off. “I would’ve gone down to get something later,” you say airily. “I didn’t want to infringe on your time with your friends.” 
“You?” James actually laughs. “Never. Trust me, we see plenty of each other. They could probably use a fresh face.”
You roll your eyes. It’s a ploy to keep from looking at him, he’s certain of it. “Well, regardless, you shouldn’t worry about it. I wasn’t starving.” 
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” Your mattress creaks as James stands. Some of the stiffness to your posture eases, and he wonders if you’re relieved to see him go, but you look up with another small smile. Pretty. 
“Thanks for the sandwich,” you say. 
“You should really have another one,” he replies, grinning back because of forces beyond his control. He starts backing out of the room. “Do you want me to make it? Actually, don’t answer that. I’m making it.” 
Your quiet laughter follows him down the stairs. 
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pastel-peach-writes · 3 months ago
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hello!! i love your writing, so may i ask? may you write about fem!reader x caitvi with a reader that does ballet? thank you!🌷🌷💋
Sure! I'm a ballet dancer myself so I'm happy to do this request!
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En Pointe | CaitVi x Reader
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╰┈➤ PLOT: Headcanons of CaitVi with a ballet dancer girlfriend!
╰┈➤ WARNINGS: No Spoilers(S2), She/Her Pronouns, Not Proofread, Suggestive Themes (Second to Last Paragraph)
⍣ ೋ Enjoy!⍣ ೋ
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– As someone who's also physically active, Vi makes sure you're taking care of your body after long nights of rehearsal.
– She gives you supplements that help with muscle recovery, makes you protein shakes or smoothies that help you last throughout dress rehearsals or performances, etc.
– She also will invite you to work out with her when your teachers tell you that you need to work on conditioning or stamina.
– If you're running late to practice and your hair is a mess, Caitlyn will always be there to help you with it. Whether that's putting it in a ponytail so you can put it in a bun later or flat-out doing the bun for you while you prepare snacks and waters for class.
– Furthermore, the girls love to attend your rehearsals to watch you dance or to get familiar with your dance studio/school. Sometimes they come during late-night practices with dinner or during early morning practices so they can take you out for brunch later.
– When the time comes for pointe shoe fitting, trust that Lady Caitlyn and Vi are right there at your appointment. The two of them are astonished with how pointe shoes work and never knew how much care and preparation goes into them.
–––
"What do you mean you have to sew them yourself?" Vi asked after her first fitting with you, appalled to hear that the ribbons and elastic come separately.
"Some teachers and dancers prefer different styles of ribbon, elastic, cut, and placement so to make things easier on the pointe shoe makers, the dancers sew the shoes themselves," you informed Vi but Caitlyn was nearby taking notes.
–––
– On days when you forgot a certain pair of shoes or tights, one of the girls would rush home to grab them for you. Even if they were in the middle of work.
– And on the off chance that they can't leave work to help you out, Caitlyn either finds or hires someone to purchase a new pair of shoes for you and then deliver them to your location.
– Safe to say you have many pairs of canvas ballet shoes and even contemporary/jazz shoes if you dabble in those genres too.
– Upon supporting you through your practices and giving you motivation on hard days, Caitlyn and Vi are always there at your shows and performances with flowers or a stuffed animal if you don't like flowers.
– They've told their family and friends about the show too so you have at least two rows, or one really big row, of supporters at every one of your performances.
– Caitlyn would get her family, Jayce, Mel, maybe even Viktor while Vi gets her crew (Yes, including Vander, Mylo, and Claggor), and her sister to attend. Even some of the coworkers Vi got close to attend your shows sometimes.
– After every show, they make sure to feed you. So if you're in between shows, for instance you finished a morning show but you still have an afternoon and evening performance, they would quickly get you food from a nearby restaurant if craft services wasn't provided or good.
– If you only had one show that didn't cut too late into the night, they take you to whichever restaurant you want.
– It could be a restaurant you saw on the way to the venue that you wanted to try or your favorite one back home. Either way, you're getting fed and they're happy to pay for whatever you want.
– On days when practice was an absolute ass and your body was a mess and too sore to function, Caitlyn offers to draw you a warm bath while Vi offers to draw you an ice bath.
– Sometimes they get into petty arguments about which bath is better and what you truly need at the time but usually, they come to a decision on their own.
– After your bath, warm, ice, or both, a meal would already be ready for you and the bed open for your laying.
– If you were too tired to eat, one of them would feed you in bed while the other massaged your sore muscles and applied muscle repair cream.
– If you're one to enjoy adult activities, sometimes the massaging gets carried away. Especially if you're just in your towel. But trust, it's all consensual and if you're not in the mood for such activities, the girls don't even encourage it.
– Okay, that's all! Hope you guys enjoyed <3
WC: 732
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cheriladycl01 · 8 months ago
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Could you do fic for Fernando Alonso with wife reader?(no age gap). He saw that someone was flirting with her and she was oblivious to it. Then, he swoops in to ‘save’ her from a bad flirt when in reality they were just jealous. He also feels insecure about his age and to make him feel better, she reveals that she had a surprise for him. You decide what it was. Just something fluff and romantic. Tag me later!! Thanks :)))
You make me feel so …. I don’t know the word in English! -McLaren Fernando Alonso x ObliviousWife! Reader
Plot: Marrying Fernando Alonso was the best decision you ever made, you loved how manly and protective he was with you. However, recently he’s been getting jealous of the other men of the grid and how they treat you.
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Fernando Alonso had been your husband for many years. You were sort of childhood sweethearts who married young on a whim and stuck together through it all.
You were able to travel the world with the person, later to be people you loved most. However recently you had a glow about it, maybe it was the fact that you were 1 month pregnant not to the knowledge of Fernando and not yet showing but just had that dewy, glowing skin that made you look radiant.
Everyone in the paddock took notice of this change, not that they couldn’t appreciate your attractiveness before, but now it just made them swoon anytime you breezed into the garage in one of your pretty sun dresses.
Today was no different, it was a beautiful sunny day in Mexico, and you were handing out water and fruit for the mechanics and engineers hard at work on your husbands car. You knew them all by name, you made sure you did, so greeting them was never an issue.
However, nobody told you of the rookie employee that had joined them for Mexico in McLaren garage. You immediately started to introduce yourself to the man, talking to him about what he was doing to the car and asking when he had joined them.
Unknown to you, the mechanic was smitten with you and everything you were telling him about your life. He was listening to every word you were telling him, and that was the effect you had on a lot of people.
“So are you, I dunno coming to the team dinner tonight?” He asks scratching the back of his neck and your about to answer with an animated yes until you feel a hand snake round your waist and pull you closer to them.
You look up and see your husband making you smile and pull him into a gentle kiss.
“Mmm my wife will be attending the dinner” Fernando says, you can’t tell but it’s said with a grit in his teeth and a sharp foxy look in his eyes that tells him to back off.
Fernando was used to you getting male attention, but lately it was constant and you didn’t even know it was happening, you were just so oblivious and he hated that you didn’t realise all these people were flirting with you.
And that mechanic wasn’t even the last of it.
Maybe it was something in the Mexican air, but even Fernando couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you over the weekend, especially after your run in with Lewis, and your old friend Jenson.
When Lewis come up to you, you had a big grin on your face.
“Hey darling. How are you?” He asked kissing either side of your cheeks looking over you with those eyes that would draw any woman in, but you. You had no idea those flirty eyes were intended that way. You just saw the kind chocolate brown and assumed the sparkle and glint in there was happiness to see you.
“I’m really good Lew! Just getting to that point of the day where I’m so exhausted, not all of us are young athletes that look 10 year more youthful than they are” you joked to him making him laugh.
“Mmm you definitely don’t struggle in that department” he says looking over you and you beam at him.
“It’s just so warm, do you recon you can help me take my jacket off? I’m not sure where Fernando is, and the buttons always get caught in my hair” you ask, looking round quickly to see if you can in fact bother your husband with the minor inconvenience at hand.
“Of course, turn around for me” he instructs before pulling your hair back and carefully peeling the tight jacket from your body, now showing off the full look of the sundress you were wearing and how it clung to your most valuable assets in the best ways.
“New dress” Lewis asks observing it making you nod.
“Mmmm, I love getting to wear these kinds of dresses in this heat, they make me feel very pretty” you smile as you shove your hands into the pockets of your dress that when you first got it you couldn’t stop telling Fernando about them, before doing a little spin for Lewis, showing of the small slit in the dress.
Fernando came over the minute he saw the look on Lewis face, who was holding your jacket as he spoke to you.
“Lewis” Fernando faked a smile at the fellow driver, once again wrapping his arms around you so you were in front of him with a tight grip and nowhere to go.
“Hello Fernando” Lewis smiles coyly with a slight smirk. The two make idle conversation before Fernandos dragging you away trying to lightly ask you to stay out in the garage and don’t stray away.
But once he was in the car, you found yourself needing the toilet (Curse the start of your baby sitting on your bladder) and another drink due to the high temperatures Mexico was experiencing that day.
There you found Jenson who was just finishing up with an interview before his eyes landed on you.
“Well if it isn’t Y/N Alonso, looking as beautiful as ever” he grins and you pull him into a hug.
You’d known Jenson for pretty much your whole life being childhood friends from Primary school in the UK. You met Fernando when you went to university in Spain, you always joked that you would have still met someone even if it was later in life because Jenson would have likely introduced you.
So when Fernando saw you and him jokingly messing around with one another his face was like thunder.
Jenson could immediately tell and said a quick goodbye to you not wanting to be at the brunt of the Spaniards anger.
“Fernando baby, what’s the matter?” You ask, coming close to him and trying to thread your fingers through his but he shoves your hand away lightly.
“When will you see it?” He demands and you cock your head to the side, not understanding what he meant, making him groan at how cute you looked.
“See what mi amor?” You ask, using Spanish to see if he’d be calmer.
“You don’t see all these BOYS flirting with you and trying to win you over and you don’t see how it affects me and upsets me! And you make me so mad when you entertain it’s and and I don’t know the world in English because I don’t even think there is a word to describe it!” He exclaims all at once making you step back.
He was really really hurt by all this… and you hadn’t been able to see it.
“Have you ever thought that I don’t notice it because I only have eyes for you?” You ask softly, taking his hand happy and satisfied he lets you this time.
“I know I know, I just think… all of these men coming up to you … they are younger than us and it just makes me think they could give you more than I can” he sighs and looks at you with those little puppy dog eyes.
“Don’t you dare say that!” You exclaim almost offended. He had in fact brought your age into it aswell!
“How dare you say that they could give me more than you can, when you damn well know you’ve given me everything!” You say raising your voice.
“Fernando, I love you, and only you! How can you not see that!” You ask.
“I do see it, I just someone feel insecure and I worry that we are too late to experience certain things and its all my fault coz I put it off because of my career!” He explains and your head cocks to the side once again, wondering what he feels like he’s too late to experience.
“What, what do you think we’ve left too late?” You question.
“Kids, travelling the world without my career being there … I dunno I just had a different timeline for us when we first met” he sighs rubbing his temple before pulling you closer to him and resting his head in the crook of you neck as he takes in your sent.
“Baby, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. I was going to wait for after the race so we could tell your parents too but I think this will cheer you up a little … and stop you from worrying about me running over with your colleagues” you joke and he sighs with a light smile pulling back to look over you.
“What is it mi amor?” He asks looking over you. You take his hand and place it on your still pretty flat stomach.
“You can cross a kid of your timeline” you say nervously with a small gulp worried for his reaction.
“Are you being serious?” He asks with a huge grin and he feels around you more to see if there is a more obvious sign.
“Yeah, i only found out before the flight out here” you nod smiling at him and he lifts you up, being as careful as possible with you as he pulls you into a hug.
“I love you so so much! I’m sorry I get so jealous of you, but you can’t blame me when I’m married to such a beautiful woman. Thank you for everything” he smiles pulling you into a light kiss.
Fernando couldn’t be more content with his life right now.
Taglist:
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rue-isabelle · 2 months ago
Text
Part 1 Part 3
Aphrodite of Formula 1, Part 2
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The Monaco paddock was buzzing, but not with the usual pre-race excitement. The drivers were all acting out of character, their girlfriends were growing increasingly frustrated, and the fans were having a field day tracking every move. The reason? Yn, as always, was oblivious to the chaos surrounding her.
---
Max and Kelly
Max leaned against a railing near the Mercedes garage, completely engrossed in conversation with Yn. She was telling him about the time she had to coordinate a last-minute team dinner for 30 people, her laughter filling the air as she recounted the chaos.
“You’re incredible,” Max said, shaking his head. “I can’t even organize my own breakfast without someone helping me.”
“It’s just practice,” Yn said modestly.
Kelly, meanwhile, stood outside the paddock, furiously scrolling through her phone. Max had promised to pick her up an hour ago, but there was no sign of him. She stormed into the paddock, her heels clicking furiously against the pavement, until she spotted him.
“Max!” she called sharply.
Max blinked, his attention snapping back to reality. “Kelly?”
“Yes, Kelly!” she spat. “The one you were supposed to pick up an hour ago?”
Yn’s smile faltered. “Oh no, Max, if you need to go—”
“No,” Max said quickly. “It’s fine. She doesn't matter as much as she thinks she does.” He turned back to Yn. “So, you were saying about the dinner?”
Kelly’s jaw dropped. “You’re seriously just going to ignore me?”
“I’ll catch up with you later. Go and be a mom for once,” Max said dismissively, earning an incredulous glare from Kelly as she stomped away.
---
Charles and Alexandra
Charles had been in a great mood all day. Why? Yn had laughed at his joke earlier, and the memory had been replaying in his mind ever since. When the day ended, he spotted Yn leaving the paddock and hurried to catch up with her.
“Yn! Do you need a ride?” he asked, his smile wide.
“Oh, that’s sweet of you, but I don’t want to trouble you,” Yn said.
“It’s no trouble at all,” Charles insisted, opening the passenger door of his car.
“Alright, thank you,” Yn said, climbing in.
Meanwhile, Alexandra stood in the paddock, waiting for Charles to take her back to their hotel. A mechanic approached her, not wanting to talk to her but having lost 'rock-paper-scissor' earlier against the others.
“He left,” the mechanic said awkwardly. “With Yn.”
Alexandra’s face turned red with fury. She let out a scream of frustration, startling everyone around her.
“Are you kidding me?!” she shouted. “What is wrong with all of you?! Why does he prefer this stupid bitch over me. I’m the one he should be fucking, not driving this slut home. Oh, she will pay!!”
Phones whipped out, capturing her meltdown as she stormed through the paddock, cursing under her breath.
By the time Alexandra returned to her hotel, videos of her tirade were all over the internet. Fans mocked her relentlessly, calling her a “gold digger” or "the wicked bitch is out again" and posting memes about her jealousy.
Charles, however, didn’t care. Yn had laughed at his joke earlier, and that was all that mattered.
---
Pierre and Kika
Pierre handed Yn a beautifully wrapped gift box, his smile warm. “I saw this and thought of you.”
Yn opened the box to find a limited-edition Hermès handbag. Her eyes widened. “Pierre, this is too much! I can’t accept this.”
“Of course you can,” Pierre said. “You deserve it.”
Kika, meanwhile, had been plotting her next move. If Pierre thought a handbag was impressive, she’d go bigger.
The next day, Kika handed Yn a set of car keys.
“What’s this?” Yn asked, confused.
“A Lamborghini,” Kika said proudly. “It’s yours. Matte black, just like I imagined for you.”
Yn stared at the keys, speechless.
Before she could respond, Kika leaned in and kissed her on the lips, letting her tongueget a taste of Yn's sweet mouth. “I hope you like it,” she said with a wink.
Pierre watched the scene unfold, his jaw tightening. “A Lamborghini?” he muttered under his breath.
---
George and Carmen
Yn joined George and Carmen for a rare day off, excited for a relaxed shopping trip. But George had other plans.
As they browsed a boutique, George held up a sleek, form-fitting dress. “Yn, you should try this.”
Yn blinked. “Me? That’s not really my style.”
“It is now,” George said firmly. “You shouldn’t hide your beauty.”
Carmen nodded approvingly. “That’s so thoughtful, George. Always looking out for her.”
Yn reluctantly tried on the dress, emerging from the fitting room. George stepped closer, adjusting the fabric on her chest. He gave her perfect tit's a squeeze, making it look like he was adjusting the area.
“Perfect,” he said softly. His heart was hammering, his hands not wanting to leave her breast. It was only then that he noticed that Yn wasn't wearing a bra. Her peaky nipples winked at him. He softly stroked over them with his thumbs, before catching himself.
Yn laughed. “You’re too much.” She didn't notice anything, to engrossed in her conversation with Carmen.
Carmen, obviously to everything that George just did, smiled, thinking to herself how sweet George was to look out for her pseudo-sister.
---
Oscar and Lily
Oscar was supposed to be taking photos for Lily’s social media, but his camera seemed to have a mind of its own. Every few minutes, it drifted toward Yn, who was seated nearby, absorbed in her work.
“Oscar,” Lily said, tapping her foot. “Hello? I’m over here.”
“Right,” Oscar mumbled, snapping a quick photo of Lily before turning his camera back to Yn.
Lily sighed but didn’t bother protesting. “You’ve got it bad,” she said, shaking her head.
Oscar grinned sheepishly. “She’s just… perfect.”
---
Carlos and Rebecca
Carlos sat in the paddock, scrolling through his phone. His screen was filled with photos of Yn, her smile lighting up every shot. His panst started feeling tighter, his dick fighting to break free from his trousers.
He didn’t notice Rebecca walking up behind him until she leaned over his shoulder.
“Seriously?” Rebecca said, raising an eyebrow. “Did you just popp a boner in public because of a fucking picture?”
Carlos nearly dropped his phone. “I wasn’t—”. He quickly brought his hands in front of his trousers. However, when he made contact with his dick, he couldn't help imagine Yn on her knees for him, making him moan rather loud.
Rebecca just scoffed at him, feeling disgusted that he acted like that towards Yn in public. She looked him up and down, before muttering "Pathetic Pussy" so only Carlos could hear, and left.
That evening, Rebecca found Yn in her hotel room, exhausted. “You need to take better care of yourself, my love,” Rebecca said gently, brushing Yn hair away from her face.
Yn tried to protest, but Rebecca guided her to the bed and began massaging her shoulders. “You’re too kind,” Yn mumbled, her eyes drooping. Slowly, Rebecca brought her hands lower and lower towards her ass, giving it a squeeze and a soft pad, so Yn would stand up.
Rebecca tucked her in, smoothing the blanket over her. “Goodnight,” she whispered, climbing into bed and wrapping her arms around Yn as the big spoon.
Yn, half-asleep, murmured, “Thank you.”
Rebecca smiled. “Anything for you.” Afterwards, while Yn was asleep, he put one hand on Yn book, playing with it. At the same time, she was sucking a hickey carefully on her neck, licking and kissing her neck afterwards.
---
Despite the chaos, Yn remained blissfully unaware of the war raging around her. For her, it was just another busy race weekend. For everyone else, it was a battle to win her heart, no matter the cost.
@omgsuperstarg
@seonghwaexile
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cottonlemonade · 2 months ago
Text
Dating You For A Bet [Part 4]
word count: 3420 || avg. reading time: 15 mins.
pairing: university AU!Matsukawa x chubby!Reader
genre: angst, fluff
warnings: swearing, use of alcohol
[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]
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By the time Christmas was over, Issei and you were texting each other regularly again. It started with you sending him a picture of a holiday snack he told you about over coffee, and you wanted to confirm that it was the right one. Later that day, he let you know that the photo made him crave the snack, too, so he had gone out to get a bag himself. An hour or so later you asked him if he’d seen the latest cheesy holiday flick on Netflix, he said No but followed it up by saying that it would be rectified immediately and you, naturally, watched it at the same time, texting each other updates and reactions about the plot. There was no doubt that you missed him, and you felt a weird mixture of small happiness and caution whenever your phone buzzed with a new text, but whichever way you looked at it, you couldn’t forget the fact that the first half of your relationship had all been pretend. You kept reminding yourself over and over as you laughed about his silly comments on the movie and when you replayed a voice message he sent imitating an especially ridiculous line.
The day before New Year’s then, your heavily suppressed need to be in his arms again was put to the test. The cold and gloom of the weather coupled with the immense amount of Christmas rom-coms you’d consumed had you reach for the phone more times than you cared to admit. But instead of giving in to the urge, you tossed the devilishly tempting device onto your roommate’s bed and buried yourself deep into a blanket, with your comfort show playing on your tablet.
“Hey, Y/n.”, your roommate came in, freshly showered after a workout at the gym. Yawning from a lazy day spent in bed, you watched her open her wardrobe and pick through her clothes.
“Date tonight?”, you asked.
“Hmm, kinda. My boyfriend and I are gonna go out drinking with some friends and stay up til midnight.”
“That’s nice.”, you said flatly.
“Wanna come?”, she asked, holding a skin-tight little black dress up to her towel-wrapped body and assessing her image in the spotty mirror.
You cocked an incredulous brow in your blanket burrito.
“Do I look like I wanna party?”
Your roommate met your eyes in the reflection and snorted.
“I mean, we still have two hours until we’re supposed to meet. That’s plenty of time to get ready.”, she gave you an encouraging smile, “Come on, I’d love for you to come.”
“Stop tugging at your skirt, you look great. - There he is. Hey handsome!”
Your roommate somehow lengthened her stride despite the high heels and restricting dress, jogging into the arms of the young man waiting in front of the restaurant. He had a stocky build and was half a head shorter than her, especially noticeable in those shoes. You recognized him as the varsity Volleyball team’s libero and offered a small wave hello, which went unnoticed because they were very busy greeting each other. To be honest, the way he looked into his girlfriend’s eyes after she kissed him made you believe in true love and want to throw up at the same time.
Once inside, you were all welcomed warmly by a large group of people sitting around a long table, every bit of which was covered with platters of food. The smell of steak, seared vegetables, and warming soups wafted through the air and made your mouth water. A few more seats were unoccupied but filled up in the next half an hour as more friends joined. You had never talked to or even met any of these people and for the most part, stuck to looking at your dinner and nodding politely along to surrounding conversations.
“Why are you always late?”, the boyfriend laughed towards the door while he dug into a pile of meat. You turned slightly, mildly curious. The slice of cheesy omelet almost fell from your chopsticks when none other than Issei greeted the table, giving your roommate’s boyfriend a half hug. He did a double-take when he saw you. “Y/n. What - hi, how are you?”
Draping his jacket over the back of the chair, he sat down on the remaining space next to you. His leg began to bounce.
Throughout the evening, with the help of your roommate, people also turned their attention to you and even asked questions about what it was like to live and study in Japan, about your home country and holiday traditions.
“Look at you making all those new friends.”, Issei said under his breath, smiling at his plate, but obviously directing the comment at you.
“Well yeah, I’m amazing.”, you said and dramatically pretended to flip your hair.
He smiled even wider and looked at you out of the corner of his eye.
“Yeah. You are.”, he lowered his voice even more until it was barely more than a soft low hum, “You look beautiful, by the way. The outfit suits you.”
You pretended to admire the holiday decoration of the room so he wouldn’t see the heat rising in your face.
You were luckily spared any need for a reply when someone to your right said into the group, “What do you say, should we get the party started?”
General cheers erupted around the table, and a waiter was asked for a round of shots.
You raised the glass to your nose for an experimental sniff.
“It’s sake.”, your roommate explained.
“Oh, you might wanna ask for something else.”, Issei advised.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t think you’ll like sake.”
You cocked a challenging brow.
“Because… you don’t drink a lot, and you like your alcohol sweet.”, he added tentatively.
Along with the rest of the table, you toasted to the upcoming new year, holding eye contact with Issei as you demonstratively downed the glass.
“Alright, be my guest.”, he shrugged and drank his own.
You shuddered next to him, eye twitching and mouth pursing.
His shoulders shook with suppressed laughter as he leaned slightly forward on the table to hide your making faces of disgust behind his broad back.
When you resurfaced, he asked smugly, “How was it?”
“Best thing ever.”, you pressed out and turned once more in your chair for another round of coughing.
“I’m so glad you like it!”, your roommate exclaimed and took bottles worth of sake from a new tray the waiter was holding out for her, “Have another one!”
“Sure.”, you croaked, discreetly stepping on Issei’s foot so that he would stop cackling.
He was already done with his second glass, while you still tried to hype yourself up for what you could only describe as rubbing alcohol with notes of hellfire and a hint of sandpaper.
You turned the glass in your fingers and then noticed how Issei rested his arms on the table as if more engrossed in everyone’s conversations. Behind his elbow, out of view for everyone else, he made a small grabbing motion while he talked with your roommate’s boyfriend. A little puzzled, you carefully pushed your sake into his waiting fingers. It must have been the right move because he set down his own emptied glass in front of you and now smoothly drank yours. As the night went on, glass after glass was exchanged this way and Issei’s cheeks soon turned rosy.
There was still some time left until midnight when Issei stumbled out of the bathroom and nearly caused a collision with a waiter.
“Sor- sorr- ssory.”, he slurred, looking a little past the waiter, probably because he saw two of them and chose the wrong one to address.
Being the only sober person at the table and feeling very guilty for him having had twice as many drinks as everyone else, you volunteered to take him back to the dorm safely. Issei stood still-ish as you wrapped his scarf around his neck and helped him into his jacket but tumbled immediately as soon as you began ushering him towards the exit. He slung his arm around your shoulder, and you half-hoisted him into a waiting taxi in front of the restaurant. You gave the driver the address of the university and opened your handbag to fish out the small bottle of water you had prudently packed. While you were still engrossed in your task in the darkness of the backseat, Issei mumbled, “Lissen, you’re very preddy an’ I’m sure you’re suber nice but… I’m not over my ex an’- an’ it wouldn’t be fair to you. M sorry. I jus’ can’t.”
You stiffened slightly, then held out the water to him without a word.
By the time you arrived at the campus, Issei had dozed off and the side of his face was smooshed against the window.
With the help of the kind driver, you got him out of the car and made your way to his dorm. The campus was quiet. Most students were probably in the city, celebrating, anticipating.
The water and cold night air seemed to have sobered Issei up a little, and he managed to swerve around a bollard rudely put in his way. Progress was arduous, and the freshly fallen layer of snow crunched under his sneakers. You really wore the wrong shoes for this. Your heels slipped on the icy ground, making you cling to Issei as much as he did to you for stability.
“Let’s sit for a moment.”, you suggested about halfway to the dorm. Issei was heavy as a dead weight, and you could feel sweat forming under your hat from lugging him along. Using the hem of your coat, you brushed snow off a wooden bench before you both plopped down. A few stray snowflakes rushed along the ground, picked up by a little breeze that swept over the empty courtyard. You offered him another gulp of water, which he readily accepted.
“Thank you.”, he whispered, almost too quiet to hear, then cleared his throat and repeated it a bit louder.
“No problem.”, you said and focused on the ground where you nudged some snow around with the tip of your shoe.
Issei groaned, pushing both his hands onto the bench, and swayed slightly back and forth.
“How are you feeling?”
“Never better.”, he mumbled, keeping his head low and eyes closed.
“We’re almost there. Not much further.”
“I never should have taken that bet.”, he said quietly.
“What?”
“I never should have even talked to these guys.”
He was now staring at his knees and his voice caught when he continued, “I can’t believe I ruined it. I should have… I should have come up to you on our first day and I should have kissed you.”
You didn’t know what to do, so you tried to joke, “Well, I would have probably used my pepper spray and reported you to the dean.”
Issei gave a toneless laugh.
“Look, I…” You hesitated. “I forgive you. It’s okay. - And hey, you’ll meet someone new someday and definitely not make that same mistake again.” After a moment's waver, you put your hand on his shoulder, squeezing for comfort.
“I don’t want - shit-”, he broke off and turned his head away, then coughed and tried to take a deep breath, but his back stiffened and he coughed again. You realized he started sobbing.
“Issei…”
“Don’t-“, he began.
“Don’t… what?”, you asked softly, taking your hand off his shoulder in case he meant you should stop touching him.
He turned to you, eyes drowning in tears, “I’m so sorry. But don’t … don’t tell me I’ll find someone else.”
“But…”
“No! I don’t want anyone else! God, y/n, I love you so much. I can’t just…”, he hiccuped, “You’re everything I want. You’re all I can think about. I understand that you want to move on. And you deserve the world.” His large hands, still cold from the bench, came up to ever so gently cup your face, “You can hate me but… don’t tell me I’ll ever get over you. I won’t.”
With that, he dropped his hands and rested his forehead on your shoulder as the tears kept falling and you patted his head to soothe him through a new wave of sobs.
The inky black sky lit up with bright lights. Crackling, whistling, and popping of the New Year’s fireworks almost completely swallowed your reply. “I can’t hate you.”
It took a few tries for Issei to slot the key into the front door lock of his building but eventually, you managed to help him up the stairs and into his room. The burnt plant still sat on the window sill and you spotted one of the plushies you had returned to him stuffed halfway under his pillow when he flopped face down onto his bed. You took off his jacket and scarf and made him drink the last bit of water left in the bottle before covering him with his blanket.
“Thank you.”, he said and yawned widely.
“No problem.” Your eyes met and for a fraction of a heartbeat you wanted to lean down to kiss him goodnight but instead, you brushed a lock of hair from his forehead.
“Are you gonna stay?”, he asked hopefully.
“No, I shouldn’t. I’m gonna head back to my room.”
When you got up he held onto the tips of your fingers. It wouldn’t haven’t taken any effort at all to pull yourself free but you didn’t want him to let go.
“Issei, I have to go.”
He thought about it, studying your face in the dim light of the occasional distant rocket. Then he sat up and pushed the blanket off.
“I should walk you.”
“What? You- no. Lay back down.”
“But it’s dark and creepy. You hate dark and creepy.”
“I’ll be fine.”, you couldn’t help but smile when you put your hands on his shoulders and gently pushed him into his pillow.
“Do you want to call me? I’ll stay on the phone with you until you’re in your room.”
You shook your head and tucked him in again.
“Sorry… I didn’t wanna be pushy about it.”, he muttered into his blanket.
“I’ll text you when I’m there.”
His eyes brightened and he nodded.
As soon as he got your message that you were in your bed, he hugged his phone to his chest and fell asleep.
The New Year started with a hangover for Issei. His head felt like it was about the size and weight of a prized watermelon. He wanted to check his phone for the time but the battery was dead. No wonder, since he found it underneath him in bed instead of charging on his nightstand. He sat up and rubbed his face with both hands, trying to piece together what happened the night before. Deciding that the memories would come back to him eventually, he plugged in his phone and went to take a shower in the meantime, using a hand on the wall to steady himself. The hot water brought back a few bits and pieces, flashes of you sitting in a restaurant next to him laughing, you murmuring a pouty thank you when he took the sake off your hands, him sobbing on some bench. When that last one started to return in vivid detail, he shook his head and shut off the water. He cleared his throat and continued with his morning routine, hoping that the sobbing was nothing but an overly dramatized version of whatever stoically shed manly tears he’d actually produced.
With the groan of an old man, Issei sat back down on his bed a few minutes later, while he started up his phone again. A couple of messages from his friends waited in the group chats, tags on social media, a video clip from his sister and her husband, and a voicemail from his parents wishing him a happy new year. But all of that was ignored when he saw a little number next to your name in the chat.
One was from a notification about a deleted message somewhere around 2 a.m., the other was just sent 10 minutes ago.
“We should talk about last night. I’m having breakfast rn. When you’re up, come find me.”
He only stumbled once on his way to the closet where he grabbed random sweats and a hoodie and when he shuffled back into his bathroom slippers - the first shoes he saw - he ran down the corridor and out of the building.
You were lost in thought, stirring your mostly soggy cereal with a long spoon and absently tapping around on your phone, wondering if he was still asleep. The murmured practice of your small prepared speech was cut short, however, because the doors to the cafeteria flew open and a very disheveled Issei looked around. It only took a moment to spot you in the almost empty hall and he hurried over.
“Good morning.”, you said, your heart softened as you noticed a cowlick just above his ear, “Happy New Year.”
“Yea. That. Good New Year to you. You wanted to talk?”
“Okay, straight to the point.” You pushed your breakfast tray away from you so you had space to nervously knead your hands on the table.
But before you could say anything he started rambling, “I’m so sorry for what happened yesterday, I didn’t mean to lay all that on you. If you wanna tell me that we can’t even be friend-adjacent anymore I might as well change schools. So -“
“Firstly, I’m glad we’re not overreacting here.”
“Right.”, he breathed out and sat down across from you.
“Alright, I’m not gonna drag this out. I still have feelings for you and while it will take a bit for me to trust you again I’d like to give it another go. - If you’re up for it.”
Issei blinked in shock. You used the opportunity to elaborate a little on the terms you had laid out last night in bed while you were staring at the ceiling, too preoccupied with overthinking to consider sleep.
“We can get to know each other again and see where it takes us. A fresh start.”, you looked at him, waiting. He still gaped at you. “This is the part where you would answer.”, you said patiently.
“Yes!”, he called, the echo of which bounced off the walls and had the few other students and cafeteria staff turn their heads in his direction. He cleared his throat. “Yes. Ahem. That sounds … uhm. Good.”
“Good?”
“I said what I said.”
You smiled and nodded.
“Okay. Let’s start with a coffee.”
“Coming right up.”
And he was already jogging to the beverage station.
You watched as he placed two steaming cups on a tray and came back over, slowing his steps in thought, then speeding up again with new determination.
He came to a halt next to the table.
“Hey, is this seat taken?”
“What?”
“This chair.”, Issei nodded to the empty spot, “Are you expecting anyone?”
“What are you doing?”
“Well, you said, you’d have to get to know me again so… Hi, I’m Issei and I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you are. Would it be okay if I joined you?”
You frowned with amused disbelief.
“If I say No, do I still get that coffee?”
“Maybe?”
“Fine… just sit down.”, you chuckled.
“Thank you.”
He took his seat and put the mug down in front of you, excitedly.
“So, what’s your name?”
“Y/n.”
“That’s gorgeous. Very fitting.”
“Uh huh.”, you grinned but decided to play along, “I gotta warn you, I just got out of a relationship.”
He wrapped his hands around his coffee. “Oh yeah? Tell me about the guy.”
You sighed. “Are we really doing this?”
“Hm hm.”
“To be honest, he was kinda a jerk. Started off great but then I found out he was just using me.”
“Bastard.”
“Yeah, you can say that again.”
“Well in the name of full disclosure, I have to confess something, too. I just got dumped by the love of my life and you remind me of her.”
“So I’m your rebound.”
“Yes.” He took a sip of coffee.
“Wow, you suck at this.”
“Oh, just you wait til you find out about all the other things I suck at. The list is pretty long. We can talk about all of them on our first date, x/n.”
“It’s y/n.”
“Right, sorry.”
You both laughed.
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a/n: thank you so much to everyone who was invested in this story. This was truly another passion project and I hope you enjoyed it until the end 🌟
taglist: @grassbutneo @samoankpoper21 @reikashe @jasminelee324 @remiratboi @ilovemymomscooking @hashxu @animechick555 @appepel @aldebrana @the-dreaming-me @screamin-abt-haikyuu @dira333 @garouaddict @gojoscloset @multi-fandom-fanfic
[masterlist]
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hitomisuzuya · 3 months ago
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Secret admirer+neighbour reader that allows Scara to stay over in her room whenever shit gets rowdy at his home for whatever reason. She leaves letters of encouragement in his locker and snacks and stuff. He found it stupid at first but gave up 'reluctantly'.
But like, pls, he knows it's her. The way she looks at him, hopefully, every time he scowls a certain way, he gets a more expensive snack (within the budget of a little middle-class lady, of course), and he starts liking her a bit too...
And anyway, they get into a cute little confrontation when she cares about him a little too much, with a bit too much honesty with the cutest outfit and he's turned on and- you get the idea.
Please, praise kink. Praise my hubby🥺🥺 maybe a bit of degrading from him.
scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. porn with some plot. fluff. degradation. praise for scara. cunnilingus. for narrative purposes, college has lockers for people who live off campus.
i grinned when i read this ask. legit scaramouche would fall in love kicking and screaming reluctantly about it the whole time🤣 this is a little long.
if scaramouche had it his way, he would've chosen to live on campus at the dorms. but no, being so close to the college made his bitch mother suggest he might be more comfortable just living at home. incidentally, it was over just that issue that you meant scaramouche officially for the first time.
you swore he slammed the door loud enough to rattle to every window of his house. and yours. naturally, it startled you, being out on the porch looking at the orange and purple painted clouds of the sunset. you'd seen him around campus before, but social anxiety often came into play. and he sort of treated you like a nuisance when you tried to talk to him.
"you okay?" you asked, giving him a soft look of concern.
"huh? do you need something?" scaramouche snapped, glaring at you in a way that would've made anyone instantly fuck off.
anyone wasn't you, though. "no, it just sounds like you were fighting with someone," you replied, his glare making your cheeks flush.
"yeah, bitch mother," it was like he didn't want to dedicate the extra few seconds of time to string together a longer sentence to mention her in.
"you can come hang out with me in my room for awhile until things cool down. no one is home right now but me," you said shyly, playing with your hair in an annoying way he absolutely couldn't miss.
"uh, sure. yeah whatever, gimme a few minutes," scaramouche grumbled, turning to go back inside the house. back inside to tell his mother to fuck off one more time. he was automatically suspicious. why were you offering? what did you stand to gain from it?
he thought about these questions while he unplugged (ripped the cords out of the outlet) his xbox, and slammed the door again. threw the door to your house open, and sort of stomped up the stairs. he promptly hooked his xbox up to your tv like he was automatically entitled to it.
but you didn't mind. scaramouche always made you feel weak in the knees. you even got him to tell you what he wanted for dinner so you could make it for him.
this became almost something of a daily occurrence. an occurrence that scaramouche was startled to find how comfortable he was becoming with.
you sure are a strange one. you even sat and watched him play video games late into the night, monopolizing your tv and not really giving a shit if there was something you wanted to watch. you never said a thing if there was. dvrs exist, after all. you would cheer him on and praise him when he was playing good. you looked stuff up on your phone to help him if he got stuck on a part somewhere.
you would remind him about tests tomorrow. he told you whatever and ended up not studying. he didn't really need to honestly. thing is, though, you started leaving notes of encouragement tucked into his folders or notebooks. or left them in his locker with some sort of disgusting sweet treat. "for you to enjoy now or later. it's up to you. good luck today."
he thought it was incredibly stupid. what could you possibly gain from this nonsense? "i don't like sweets," he said, tossing a baggie of oreos on your desk. "disgusting. absolutely no thanks."
your posture stiffened a little, like you'd just been caught red handed doing something secretive. in a way, you had been. "wh-what are you talking about?" you stammered shyly, "who left you those?" you paused for a moment, twisting lock of hair around your index finger. "incidentally, what would you want for something like that?"
scaramouche almost snorted. god, you are so transparent. he knew it was you, but you are still trying to play it off like it wasn't, fidgeting nervously with your fingers. it was disgustingly adorable so he let you carry on with it in his own way. stop it.
"salted rice balls with sea weed in the middle. i like those, not the toxic waste that is chocolate. or rather horse shit," he replied, rolling his eyes.
sure enough, a few days later, salted white rice balls with seaweed in the middle appeared in his locker the next morning. "please, eat these. sorry about before. you try so hard and deserve a good treat."
fuck, fuck, fuck!
he was starting to tuck your notes into his pockets to keep with him throughout the day. some of the snacks you make him looked expensive. and you were the type to buy the ingredients and hand make them yourself. you had to have been getting up super early in the morning to make them or staying up late the night before.
and every time he called you out on it, you shyly played it off. even joking with him about him having a secret admirer, though he swore you looked a little sad at the thought of someone else liking him like you weren't talking about yourself.
even worse, scaramouche started looking at you and thinking; shit, she looks really cute today. those are thigh highs she's wearing cup her thighs perfectly. it makes me wanna..
he'd had enough when he started jacking himself off after he left your house for the night. thinking of you, the innocent girl next door who doted on him and gave him attention. who is way too sweet for her own good. with this stupid crush on him that you refused to say anything about.
how dare you make him fall in love.
you started wearing thigh highs when he mentioned casually he likes them, tempting him with a garter belt. a garter that his eyes strained to casually get a peek at if the pleats of your skirt bounced in just the right way.
he caught you on your way out the door to go the convenience/grocery store that stayed open all night, a list of ingredients and a recipe in your hand to read on the way.
"why do you do this nonsense?" scaramouche asked, snatching the slip of paper out of your hand. he couldn't help but smirk. just like he thought, there was a recipe for rice balls with eel in them and miso soup. you were even going to stop by the coffee shop and get his favorite coffee.
...
fucking hell, you are way too sweet for your own good but damn it, he enjoyed soaking up every bit of your attention now. his bitch mother even "accused" him of dating someone a few days ago. the nerve!
"i..i." you stammered shyly in a way that made him want to kiss you. really really badly. you knew you were caught. "was i that obvious?"
scaramouche snorted. "you are so obvious that you could've landed plane without waving your arms. it was actually a little pathetic," he sighed seeing your reaction. why did you do that? why did your cheeks flush when he flat out insulted you?
and that was how you ended up on your back on his bed, your legs spread and stripped almost entirely of your clothes as he crawled between your legs. "these stay on," he insisted, hooking his finger under the top of your thigh high, letting it snap back on your thigh. he'd angrily kissed you all the way up to his room, pawing at your clothes and swallowing your moans into his mouth.
you always took care of him in your room. and now he was taking care of you properly in his room. it was a chore to fight his pride, anyways. and he didn't want to fight it anymore.
having his hands holding your thighs apart while he licked slow, hungry stripes up and down your pussy was much more preferable. "desperation is good color on you, slut," he groaned, teasingly kitten licking your clit before sweeping it down to swirl around your hole. youclenched on the tip of his tongue like he imagined that you would.
"i..i can't help it," you moan shakily, squirming as you grind on his mouth, "i'm sorry. i'm so in love you with it hurts. i just..just," you are cut off when scaramouche latched his lips around your clit, letting out a gasp of pleasure. your clit tingled and throbbed as he sucked, prodding and swirling his tongue in a way that made a dizzying warmth spread through your core. "i wanted your attention."
you sound so fucking cute it made his cock ache almost painfully. did you have any idea how unbearable you made it all the fucking time? "i saw right through your pathetic attempts to woe me. praise me more, slut. it's making me hard," he groaned, drunk on the taste on your pussy soaking his tongue.
he held your pussy against his mouth as you grinded on his tongue, your fingers finding his hair and pushing his mouth down. "you are perfect, scara!" you cry out, your clit throbbing twice as hard underneath his tongue. "your tongue feels so good! you are all i ever think about!"
he could edge himself on your words praise, soaking up every word. "go on. keep going while i tongue fuck you," he moaned, focusing his tongue on your clit again.
his tongue working your pussy over like a starved animal was making you start to babble nonsense. "your so smart, and handsome and strong. your fingers are beautiful, so beautiful i want to suck on them. don't stop, please. please," you have the cutest sounding whimpers when the jolts of pleasure rocketing through you were too much for you to process.
your precious babbling spurred scaramouche's tongue on, one hand reluctantly leaving your thigh to palm and rub his cock outside his jeans. you deserve to cum hard on his tongue for sounding so sweet.
you twitch and spasm in bliss, tugging urgently on his hair. your hips bucked up to rub and grind on his mouth. you writhed on the bed, relaxing into his possessive squeeze on your thighs. it wasn't long before you couldn't keep it together anymore. or at least as together as you thought you had it. you'd broken on his tongue a long time ago.
you whimper weakly behind your shameless moans, your thighs shaking as your orgasm washed over you. it was so strong it nearly even made your fingers fall limp in his hair. his tongue lovingly fucked you through your orgasm until you were panting and shaking on the cusps of overstimulation. he lapped at your release.
"i think i found the only sweet i will enjoy," satisfied, he sat up and wiped his mouth. you are practically passed out on his bed, exhausted and overloaded. neither of you were making it to your evening classes. he planned to spend that time further devouring you once he let you sleep a little.
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slutforleeminho · 1 year ago
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heyy, i love your work, i was wondering if you could write a fic based on the song ‘the other woman’ by lana del rey where the reader is the other woman. you could do it about any member :)
this is my first ever request since i’ve been on this app so i hope i did it right 😭
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The other Woman • Hwang Hyunjin
thank you so much! i’m so happy that your first ask was on my acc! i hope you like it<3
warnings: suggestive(no explicit smut), arguing, infidelity, toxic relationship, plot twist at the end;)
"I have to go, beautiful." Hyunjin leaned down to kiss your forehead after pulling his pants up and buttoning them. He placed his hand on the side of your face, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. "She'll get suspicious if I stay any longer."
This was normal for you, yours and Hyunjin's little routine. He'd take you out to dinner and treat you like a princess, paying for your meals and anything else you could possibly want. Holding your hand and taking you places you've only dreamed of going, then he'd take you home --your home-- and he'd fuck you like there was no tomorrow. And then he'd leave to do the same things with his wife.
You never understood why he pursued you the way he did when he had someone at home to take care of, but you didn't care enough to bring it up. Why would you? You have everything a young woman could ever want; a young, handsome, rich man who gives you anything you want. But only a few times a week. It's okay though, that just gives you plenty of time to do things that you enjoy like reading and going to museums and admiring the beautiful pieces of art that you wished you could just shove in your bag and take home with you.
"Okay," You said with a tired smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Actually, I meant to tell you, I won't be able to come over tomorrow. Apparently, Violet has a family reunion, and she wants me to accompany her." He stated as he pulled his shirt over his head and grabbed his bag from the chair in the corner of your room.
Violet. Such a pretty name for such a lucky woman.
"Oh." Was all you replied with.
"Are you mad at me?"
"No, of course not, these things happen," You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into as soon as you entered this relationship, if it can even be called that. "Just text me when you can. let me know when you want to meet up."
"Of course." He smiled.
He kissed you deeply before he left that night, almost making you forget that he had someone at home waiting for him, and you would be left here, cold and alone.
That text that he promised didnt come until a week later.
"I miss the way you feel wrapped around me." Was all that the message contained. You liked to imagine he was talking about your warm embrace, but you knew that wasn't true. He just wanted to feel an unfamiliar body underneath his.
You weren't sure how you ended up like this. When you first met Hyunjin he was sweet and caring, attentively listened to you while you complained about your bad day at work and massaged away all the soreness in your muscles. You can't remember the last time he's taken you out to dinner or bought you flowers. Now you were just his escape from his nagging wife.
You put up with the constant shame and guilt you felt for being with someone who already had their someone, because you thought that maybe his love for you would grow and that maybe someday Hyunjin would realize that you're the one he wants to spend every waking moment with and not someone else. But as your love for him grew your patience shrunk until one day you snapped.
Hyunjin was collecting his things after he had finished what he came here for, which was to get his dick wet and nothing more. "I won't see you again after tonight."
Hyunjin stopped in his tracks and stared at you with wide eyes. "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean I deserve more than this. I deserve to have someone's full attention and all of their heart." You held yourself together, determined not to cry Infront of him. He doesn't deserve your tears.
"Baby, what are you even talking about?" He knelt down in front of you and placed his hand on your shaking knees. "Of course, I love you."
"No, you don't," You shook your head. "You love my body, you love having someone at your disposal, someone you can use only for your own pleasure. If you loved me even in the slightest there wouldn't be another woman getting the treatment that I crave so fucking much." All the emotion you've kept stuffed away finally revealed itself in the form of a single tear running down your cheek.
It was silent for a long time before Hyunjin spoke. "I'll leave her." You snapped your head up so fast that it hurt. "If that's what you want than I'll do it." The way he worded it as if it was your choice whether his marriage ended or not made you sick to your stomach, but you couldn't deny that you felt a flutter of hope in your chest that maybe this didn't have to end after all. But you're smarter than that. He says this now, but he doesn't mean it, and even if he did you wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing that a woman who did nothing wrong was out there most likely crying herself to sleep while your warm and safe in the love of her life's arms.
"No, be with her. I'll be okay." That was a complete lie but even after everything he's done, you still don't want him to worry about you.
"Please don't do this to me. I love you and I want to be with you. He held on to your legs tighter.
"Funny, isn't that what you told her when you vowed in front of God and everyone that your love for her would be eternal." His mouth snapped shut and his hands left your legs before he stood. He leaned down and before you could register what was happening his lips were on yours. You immediately reciprocated, leaning forward and pressing yourself closer into him. He was so intoxicating, the way his tongue glided with yours so smoothly had you in a trance; you snapped out of it when he placed his right knee on the bed beside you and started pushing you backwards. "No!" you shoved him away. He stumbled backwards but regained his balance quickly. "I'm not doing this with you, Hyunjin. I can't do this anymore, its wrong."
"Since when do you have morals?" His voice was louder this time, he was pissed.
"I've always had them, but I put them aside because I love you!" It was your turn to stand up and look him square in the face. "But the longer we do this the more I realize that this isn't love, its obsession and its toxic. You never loved me Hyunjin you were curious about infidelity, and I was an easy target because my standards were so fucking low that I actually settled for you."
"Fuck this, I don't have to sit here and listen to you degrade me like this." He grabbed his bag and left, but not without slamming the door behind him.
~
The past month has been hell. After laying in your bed for an entire week you decided to pack up all of Hyunjins things and throw them out, the smell of him that was radiating off of them was making you sick to your stomach every time you walked in the room. And then you went to the mall to treat yourself to a new outfit, you wanted something that didn't have any memories of him attached to it. A trip to your favorite coffee shop followed after that. you hadn't been her in a while and you missed the smell of fresh espresso as you walked in the door.
After getting yourself your favorite -a butter pecan macchiato and a small triple chocolate brownie (they were out of doughnuts)- You sat in the best spot in the entire shop, in a little booth in the corner right next to the window, where you could watch the leaves that had no color left in them fall to the ground only to get trampled over by the passing pedestrians. The leaves reminded you a lot of yourself in a way, but you hoped you never had to fall again.
"Hi," a voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You turned to find yourself looking up at a very handsome young man. His hair was blonde, and it came down to his shoulders. he had an apron on, and a big smile plastered across his face, little freckles decorated his cheeks. "I saw you bought one of the brownies, it's a new recipe I tried, and I wanted to ask if you enjoyed it."
"Oh," You blinked up at him. "Um yeah it's really good, maybe my new favorite."
"Oh, thank god," He let out a sigh of relief. "I was worried that it wouldn't be any good. See a couple of the ingredients I use were sold out, so I had to substitute-" He stooped in the middle of his sentence. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling. I tend to do that a lot."
"No, it's okay," You huffed out a laugh. He was so cute. "Now I'm curious about what ingredients were sold out." You joked.
He smiled widely at you and stretched his hand out. "I'm Felix."
You hesitated but took his hand anyway. "Nice to meet you, Felix."
PART TWO HERE
THANK YOUUU ALL FOR A THOUSAND FOLLOWERS I DONT EVEN KNOW HOW TO FEEL 😭
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suguann · 7 months ago
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He’s attending one of your father’s summer company parties when he sees you in person for the first time.
The glossy photo perched on the edge of your father’s desk in his office doesn’t do you justice.
You walk onto the deck, sundress swaying around your knees, smiling with your whole mouth when a guy covered in tattoos wraps an arm around your shoulders. Gojo watches him squeeze your cheeks together and kiss you in a way that shouldn’t be allowed, with your parents mingling close by—how you look up at him with clear adoration on your face.
He finds himself thinking about it later when he’s in his big empty house with nothing but the soft humming of his air conditioner and a list of work emails for company. 
Standing in the middle of his entryway, he wonders what it’d be like to have your bright smile and pastel dresses welcome him home.
So when your dad calls a few weeks later to ask if you can crash at his place until you’re steady on your feet, he cleans out one of his spare bedrooms that night. 
He tells himself he’s doing the right thing, and it’s not about fulfilling some fantasy of his. But when he comes home after a long day of work and finds you making dinner in the kitchen in one of your many tiny dresses, something stirs in his chest. 
It’s imprinted on the back of his eyelids. Clear as day when he’s in the shower later and strokes his cock to the image of your breasts straining against thin floral fabrics and the curve of your ass barely peeking out from under the hem of the skirt.
There’s still the issue about your boyfriend.
"I don't like how the old fuck stares at you," Gojo hears him—Sukuna—tell you one night over speakerphone.
“He’s not old,” you argue. “He’s nice, and I like him.”
It’s an ugly thing that rears its head in him and has him thinking, plotting, of tangible ways he can have you all to himself.
It happens in a way that he doesn’t expect, but he thinks it makes it all the better; how your boyfriend gets so easily worked up about a few things Gojo said:
“She’s never going to cum like that.”
Sukuna scoffs, his fingers still trapped against your clit. “You think you can do better, old man?”
Gojo ignores him and pats his thigh. "C'mere, sweetheart."
You bite your lip and look at Sukuna hesitantly, who pulls you into a sloppy kiss before letting you slide off him, and you crawl across the couch to perch yourself in Gojo’s lap. He’s still wearing his tie from work, and you stare at it for a second until he cups your cheek to tilt your chin up, thumb pressing into the middle of your lips until it slips in and strokes along your tongue, giving you something to focus on.
“Listen, if I make you cum, I get to fuck you however I want,” he says, holding your chin to keep you from glancing at your boyfriend again. He can treat you better, make you cry on his fingers, his mouth, his cock—however you want it. He’s sure of it.
You try to speak around his thumb. “But I want—I want—,” vowels and consonants trailing into nothing.
He laughs. “How can you want something that you can’t even ask for, hm?” And he thinks—ah, you’ll learn how to take anything he gives you—just as your boyfriend starts stroking himself to the sound of your moans by another man’s doing.
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toji-bunny-girl · 1 year ago
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𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓✩’𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓
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CHARACTERS— Santa!Gojo Satoru x pretty sexy gorgeous fem!reader SUMMARY— Supposedly another Christmas night being lonely and horny, you’re suddenly woken up by Santa coming to claim you your Christmas gift. WORD COUNT— 3k+ CONTENT WARNING— slight angst, swearing, smut, porn with plot, virginity lost, fingering, clit sucking, oral sex, no protection A/N— Merry Christmas, my fellow bitchless angels 😔 Ya’ll better not let this shit flop or else I’m going insane. btw guys God literally told me face-to-face that my dog is cuter than your pet 😨 it’s true tho
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“So,” your co-worker, Mina started as she haled the roll-up gate down, flipping her long extensions behind her shoulder before grabbing the lock from your extended hand, “got any plans this Christmas?”
“I don’t know…I’ll probably go out with my friends to the new cat cafe. You?” you watched as her fingers worked deftly to lock the gate before trying to pull it open in an attempt to make sure she got it locked.
“Kai wants to visit Ginzan Onsen, said it’ll be the best place to ‘make love’ or something. I mean, long story short he thinks it’s a cute place to fuck,” Mina apprised, always a little bit too forward with her wordings—her bold personality and style amolous from yours.
Albeit she’s amiable and kind, you still couldn’t quite get used to her blatant forwardness despite working with her for the past 5 months. And Mina loved teasing you about how sensitive you are; already blushing from the mere word ‘fuck’.
“Look at how cute you are, (Y/N). Your face is starting to get red!” she giggled, pointing as you hit her arm, feeling your cheeks warming against the cold winter air. “You know, they say the shy-est are usually the kinkiest…”
“Just leave me alone, Mina!” you embarrassingly whined, slapping a palm over her glossed lips before pushing her away. She lets out a few satisfied laughs before raising her hands up in capitulation, already knowing when to stop before you get irritated at her.
“Alright, I’m sorry, ‘kay baby?” she cooed, plump lower lips jutting out into a pout as she wrapped her arms around your waist.
“You keep teasing me,” you frowned and pushed her stubborn hands off of you before you began walking towards the train station.
“Cuz’ you’re so cute. You’re always acting like such a virgin,” her arm hung over your shoulders and your body sunk forward at the sudden weight.
“Now, is there a problem with that…” you spoke lowly, flickering your sight towards her, wary of her reaction.
“You cannot be shitting me?!” Mina widened her eyes, two elder couples turning their attention on her egregious tone, “I mean like, look at you! You’re so pretty and such a good girl. Who wouldn’t want you?! I want you!”
“I don’t know…I just haven’t met the one.”
“There’s tons of guys who want you, (Y/N)! You gotta be a little bold, get out of your shell if you wanna meet ‘your one’.”
“Man…I just wish someone perfect for me who isn’t a creep would come to me,” you sighed, your hand holding onto Mina’s dangling one over your neck. Nearing the station, you could see Kai, her boyfriend already waiting by the entrance for her—probably heading to dinner together later on.
“You’ll find one for sure,” she glanced at you, a bright reassuring smile on her face, and you returned her one before feeling the weight on your shoulders lifted when she pulled her arm away, then waved at Kai.
“So, how was work today?” the male strode over, his two hands reaching out to hold Mina’s from the pockets of his coat before turning to greet you.
“It’s fine, lots of couples today,” she replied, following as you passed the ticket gate and rode the escalator up to the platform. “And as usual, we got a few single lads asking for our pretty girl’s Line today.”
“Yeah, and you forgot to add that they’re either delinquents or high school boys,” the two couples chortled as you sighed, tired of how you’re always attracting guys who are definitely not your type.
“We’re gonna have to get security for our candy shop because of our (Y/N), huh?” Mina joked, nudging Kai’s side with her shoulder as you rolled your eyes.
Within seconds, the bells signaling the coming arrival of the train started, the train announcer apprising the next destination as Shinjuku-sanchōme—20 minutes until you reach your home station.
“Sorry, (Y/N). Kai and I are gonna ride another train to Shinbashi so we can’t go in with you,” the train had arrived and the doors slid open as workmen and women surged in like sea waves.
“No, no! It’s fine. Happy holidays, guys,” you smiled as you began to follow the crowd into the half-packed train.
“Merry Christmas, (Y/N)!” the two bid, Mina waving all the while.
“Enjoy your trip to Ginzan, you two!” you giggled, slightly waving back before jumping onto the train just as its doors began to slide close. The smell of heater and sweat filled your nose and as you swiftly scanned your sight around, you saw most smiling at their phones, probably texting their loved ones, and a few couples giggling in their seats.
Another lonely Christmas, you thought.
Your stomach was growling as you prowled the streets for the nearest convenience store. The sky was already blanketed with darkness and you thought visiting any restaurant would only mount your forlornness, so you figured a quick meal from the store would do for your hunger.
The luminously salient sign of your local convenience store caught your eyes from a distance away, and you hurriedly scorched towards the store. Entering, the cashier greeted you when the automated door slid open with a ding to announce your presence, and you nodded your head with a smile before trodding your way to the back where packed bentos were.
Your eyes raked over the bentos, looking for your favourite Katsudon to find it absent from the display. A surge of annoyance rose in you as your brow knitted into a frown, ‘Can’t even have my Katsudon, huh?’. Grabbing the nearest bento instead, you made your way to the cashier while rummaging through your bag for your wallet.
“Do you want your bento heated up, miss?” the male mooted, a serviceable smile on his face. He caught your affirmative hum before setting the food in the microwave, and silence then transpired between the two of you.
The smell of the heating fried rice pervaded through the air in the wake of the anticipated ‘ding’. The cashier took out the bento and wrapped it in a plastic bag before handing you both the plastic and a card, “Thank you for your purchase, and Merry Christmas!”
You thanked the male and claimed your things before heading out of the store with another ‘ding’, throwing the card into the plastic bag and burying your hands deep in the warmth of your pockets.
What seemed to be your wontedly peaceful route back home suddenly became a path of silent lonesomeness. At that moment, you must be colder than anyone else in Japan. While they have the love and heat of a lover to warm them up—you had no one but yourself.
The walk home was longer than usual and you immediately turned on the heater when you entered your apartment, feeling your limbs beginning to numb. Taking out a few beer cans from the fridge, you set them on the small chabudai along with your cooling packed dinner—ready to scarf down your meal.
It took you an empty bento box and two beer cans to notice the Christmas card the cashier gave you on the wooden floor, probably dropped when you took the packaged meal out of the plastic bag. You could feel yourself getting tipsy as the alcohol set in your veins, rushing to your brain and making it all light and woozy.
“Christmas…Wish?” you read the bold, cursive title aloud, eyes absorbing the contents on the card.
Write a wish on this card and Santa shall grant what you seek!
Aren’t these for kids or something? Why would the cashier give you something like this? It’s obviously fake, but for you to think of a wish…you would love to be a millionaire. Or a billionaire. Or have a pet cat. Or…
Heading to your bedroom to get your pen, you trodded back to the chabudai where the card was, taking your time to ruminate on what to write just for the fun of it. Perhaps it was the alcohol thumping in your pulse, absorbing whatever sense you have in your head as it passed your bloodstream—you found yourself injudiciously scribbling something you normally wouldn’t.
Lose my virginity. 
Fire popped beneath the skin of your cheeks as you stared at the piece of card with your writing on it. “I must have gotten insane…” you sighed, rubbing your eyebrows.
Maybe a wash would clear your head, you thought. The beer was making you drowsy and you’d better have an early night. You don’t take long with your shower and you were quick to set your things aside and take out the trash.
It was only 10 but you’ve already settled yourself in your bed, sleepiness blanketing over your head. Your eyelids began to shut, sending you to an abyss of peace and dream.
Then, there was shuffling. And mumbles.
Your consciousness drew back to reality and through your dazed state—you tried to make sense of the noises. Until you began to sober up, there was no one but you in your apartment. No pets nor roommates to be making up all these sounds.
“Who’s there?” you panicked, straining your eyes through the dark, to find a tall silhouette in your room. A sense of aghast rumbled through your being and a shriek ripped itself out of your throat.
You fumbled for something from your bedside table to act as a weapon, and the most threatening object there was was your lamp. At least you could smash it against the intruder and bolt out of your apartment for help.
And as you tried to rip the lamp’s cord out of the socket, its light turned on—revealing the stranger to be…Santa?
“(Y/N), is it?” the male chuckled, rubbing his nape.
“Who are you?!” you screamed, pointing the lamp at him. “Get out of my house, please!”
“Just relax, man. I’m Santa, here to grant you your Christmas wish!”
“Look, I’m just a broke college student! I-I don’t have anything with me. Just leave and I won’t call the cops,” you tried to reason, already starting to break down into hiccups and tears
“Well, I'm sorry. It’s my policy to not leave a house unless I’ve successfully fulfilled one’s desires. So, I won’t be leaving anytime soon!”
“W-What…?” you were beyond dumbfounded, trying to make sense of the random lunatic standing in your room.
“This,” he pointed at the card from the convenience store. “Here, your wish says…to lose your virginity,” the male cladded in his Santa suit bemusedly read aloud.
“No…! I wrote that as a joke!”
“Well, I don’t take Christmas wishes as a joke,” he lifted an eyebrow, resting his hands on his hips.
“Just cut it out, Santa isn’t real,” you retorted, tightening your grip on the handle of the lamp.
“But I am real,” his voice suddenly became closer, and more lucid, his frame had disappeared from your sight—as if he was suddenly gone and had dissipated into space. Whipping your head behind, you found him just there and a scream cracked out of your lungs as you tumbled out of your bed.
“H-How…Wha—“
“I can teleport, y’know?” he smiled, reaching out a hand to pull you up from the floor. “And I can make anything out of thin air,” his other hand rose to have a random Dior bag in his grasp as you stared, shocked and finding it hard to register the scene in front of you.
“So, you’re really…Santa Claus?”
“Yes, and my real name’s Gojo Satoru—at your service,” he slurred, and you found his voice smooth like freshly woven silk. You were silent and still, eyes widening at the white-haired male in front of you. “Speaking of your Christmas wish…”
Your face burst into florid red as you awkwardly laughed, “Could you please just forget about that?”
“Now, if you’ve read carefully; no changing or refusing of wishes once you’ve written ‘em down,” he pointed at the small text at the bottom of the card, “You must’ve missed it just now.”
Thinking over the situation, something in you cracked as you realised—you were going to lose your virginity to Santa Claus. Your eyelids twitched as you nervously chuckled. This gotta be a heck of a joke. 
“Hey, don’t underestimate me!” Gojo had caught your expression, and as if he was reading your thoughts, his eyebrows knitted into a frown.
“T-Then what are we supposed to do now?” you asked, switching your gaze away and feeling hot embarrassment tickling your skin.
“No need to worry,” Gojo gave a reassuring smirk, “just trust me.”
Alright, trust.
You felt the bed shift with his weight, and he was hovering over you—face mere inches away. His eyes seemed to sparkle like those of a diamond; blue stars orbiting in his orbs, and you note the plump shape of his lips, so visually kissable.
For the second time, as if he had caught your thoughts, he let his lips mould into yours. He felt soft and plump like peach, and he smelled like a merge of snow and warmth.
Your lips danced in the dark, and your body leaned forward towards him as he fell back, something about the kiss was unbreakable. It felt so soft, it felt so good.
You let his hands wander around your curves from underneath your pyjamas, meet the shape of your hips and dips of your waist, then the roundness of your breasts. You let him study your body with the cold tips of his fingers and slip your clothes off when he wanted to.
A soft moan slipped out of your tongue when the cold December air hit your nipples, and Gojo took no time to let his tongue play with your buds. His hands continued to roam around your body, pressing a finger against the wet spot through your pants.
“You fine with this?” he pointed at the way his fingers slid over your clothed core. You wordlessly nodded, drifting your sight away before you felt yourself benignly pushed onto your back, your pants slowly slipping off of your legs along with your panties.
You were bare, in front of a man you’ve met tonight. But at the same time, you felt oddly safe with him. This was only a wish come true and nothing more, you affirmed.
His long fingers began to reach deep inside, and your nerves tingled at where they caressed your walls. His pace switched after a few pumps and his fingers were dextrously pistoning in and out of your cunt. You could hear your erotic slick coating his digits as it follows his rhythm, and your cheeks burn hot in shyness.
His face lowered to your pussy, and his tongue began playing with your clit. A sharp mewl escaped from your lips as his cheeks hallowed from sucking on your nub and his fingers paced up over the gummy spot deep inside.
Pleasure began amassing in your nerves and you could feel yourself brimming over the edge of lucidity. Gojo didn’t stop and instead, fastened his digits in and out of you, the sound of sex was loud through your state of delirium and he was coaxing all the pleasure there was in you.
Then, you spilled. Your thighs tightened around his head, fingers gripping onto his white locks as you’re sent to a world of blank bliss. Gojo peeks up at you as you pause with your lips parted, edges of eyebrows sewn to the stars, and half a wail stayed choked in your throat.
“You alright?” he chuckled, raising his upper body to your blushed face. You didn't say a word and drove your tongue into his mouth, arms locking him closer to you. The shared heat between your two bodies warmed the air around you, and you thought maybe that’s what it feels like to have a lover.
“Yeah,” you breathed, still ever so shy yet for once, a daring timbre crawled through your tone. “I think I’m ready…”
“If princess wants it,” his lips crack into a smile against yours, pants pulled down and hand pumping his length, fat tip lined against your entrance. Peeking down, regret almost settled into your being when you saw his size. Would it fit?
Then, he saw you and reassured you that he would go slow. No need to worry and to trust. So, you did. Bashfully spreading your thighs open for him.
Your muscles squeezed when he first entered, and he let out a long groan with a pause to his hips. It took a few seconds until he began to move, this time with a thumb rolling your clit to loosen your grip. Every inch of his cock stretched into your cunt made you go almost insane—the pain that first came was soon replaced with a delicate buzz of pleasure.
His hips were slow to thrust at first, gentle and soft until your walls had adjusted to his girth. Your little moans began to fill the chilly air when he slowly started to quicken up, and the bed began to squeak along with his rhythm.
“You look so pretty, y’know?” like silk, slinking through the hot air and into your ears. Every time his curved tip kisses your G-spot, you feel blank—blank of pleasure and stimulation. He could see it in your face, always able to read your features so well.
“Mmhp—” you let out a moan when he pulled your hips closer to him, fucking deep into your squelching cunt. Your back arched from the way his cock rubbed against your walls, hands over your mouth to muffle your whines.
“I wanna hear your pretty moans, (Y/N),” Gojo teased, softly leading your hands into his before fucking himself harder, deeper inside of you.
“Nngh! Feels s-so good—haa!” your hips began to move with his, legs hugging him closer to you and the world seemed to be on vertigo. Pleasure pervaded through every single cell in your body and your blood was pumping loud in your ears. “Please, I wanna cum!”
“Whatever princess says,” you could hear the smirk in his quivering tone, and with a few deep thrusts, the coil inside of your womb snapped—and your essence wet his thighs; your shaky moans high-pitched and sharp. “Yeah, pretty girl. Just like that.”
Static shot through your nerves, and your clit throbs against the hot air. Gojo let a thumb circle your nub, rubbing it through your climax as your nails sink into the skin of his arm. You could feel the warm mix of cum slipping out of your lips, running down your skin and into the bedsheet.
Once again, you felt the bed shift, and the warmth that held you lifted away. Through your hazy sight, you saw his figure rising, “Merry Christmas, pretty.”
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