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grimmsbride · 1 month ago

Text

LOVERS ROCK [ daisuke / reader ]

keeping your relationship a secret from your coworkers was no doubt; thrilling. and also, very, very challenging. it didn’t help the two of you just loved to push your limits

notes / #bringbackdryhumping | reader is the same janitor reader in my previous fic (obviously). i got this idea randomly, daisuke seems like the type to take his partner to scenic places for dates. and well.. the nighttime screen is about as scenic as it gets on the tulpar. i hope you enjoy and as usual please excuse any grammar mistakes or typos 🫶🏾. i feel i made him very ooc, i’m used to see daisuke smut being quite submissive to the reader so i wanted to go a different approach.. i think in situations like this he may be a little more confident, especially if his partner is reciprocating to the feeling. if you have any thoughts on the manner let me know <3

The Tulpar was filled with mundane tasks. Wake up, clean, eat, shower, and go back to sleep— a routine that’s been ingrained into your body. A continuous cycle that would have bored you to death without your beloved music. You were grateful for your position, no matter how minuscule, yet you couldn’t deny the wish for something more.

And luckily it came true; in the form of a young man nonetheless.

You weren’t one to mix business and pleasure, it just seemed like a disaster waiting to happen. Coming across Tulpar and the demographic you expected to be on the ship — older people that certainly weren’t your type — you were quite confident you wouldn’t go against your usual code. But alas, you surprised yourself while falling for a certain intern.

As bright eyed and slightly clueless he was, Daisuke was a pocket of sunshine you’ve come to truly adore. Always there when he can be, even if it means a quick kiss when you’re cleaning or a gentle pinch when passing by to remind you of who was in your corner.

Keeping your growing relationship a secret from your coworkers was troublesome but extremely necessary. You couldn’t imagine the expressions the others would display, especially Jimmy who just seemed to be far too eager to stomp on just about anyone's happiness; no matter the size.

Still, you couldn’t deny how thrilling it was at times. Pulling your partner into a quiet dark corner for a few extra kisses, or the secret looks the two of you gave each when in a public setting. The line was thinning longer and longer, close calls increasing as time passed.

And yet here you were, seated upon the living room couch; waiting for your beloved Daisuke.

Usually if the two of you wanted alone time when everyone was asleep you alternated between your bedrooms. At least there, there was a door and bed. But for some reason, Daisuke was adamant on spending some time out here; underneath the pretty nighttime screen.

Your eyes stared up at the blues and whites, head leaning back against the shoulder of the couch as music poured into your ears. Your thumb traced the little device, perfectly at ease.

That was until something delicately traced the back of your neck.

You swallowed a yelp, quickly turning with a jump to glare at the one responsible— who only grinned back at you.

“Daisuke! What if I had yelled?”

You stood up from the couch, watching the man walk around the before waltzing down the little steps. Within two strides he was standing in front of you, glancing down at you with the sweetest smile.

“But you didn't!” Daisuke chuckled the moment you lightly shoved his chest, catching your wrist in time before you could move it away. In doing so, he locked your fingers whilst his free hand went for the earbud occupying one of your ears. Pulling it out, the man then lifted it to his own, bringing himself closer to your form.

You met him, unoccupied hand sliding up to wrap your arm around his waist, laying your head against his chest. Between the melody of his heart beat and Tv Girl running through your ears, you were at complete bliss. As if you could fall asleep right then and there.

The two of you swayed, allowing yourselves to get caught up in each other rather than your surroundings. You felt his free hand sneak underneath your arm, pulling it higher until your hand was on top of his shoulder. After which, Daisuke’s hand found your waist, tugging you even closer and actually adding moves to your swaying.

You snorted softly, mumbling softly about him being corny to which the man only laughed. Silence continued after as the two of you danced slowly, carefully, as to hopefully not alert the others of your rather embarrassing nightly activities.

A step, another, and then a graceful stride. You wondered if Daisuke danced a lot back home. The thought caused you to laugh once again, just in time for your lover to twirl you.

Slithering his arm tighter around your waist, he pulled your back to his front, face being shoved into your neck.

Your eyes peeled open, staring up at the nighttime screen that stared back at you. “Dancing under the stars, huh?..”

“A perfect date.”

You smiled at his words, hand rose to reach back and lightly fuss with his hair. “Yeah, all girls love dancing at work while watching a blown up image of a fake sky.”

Daisuke laughed into your ear, the pitch perfectly going along with the music you shared.

“I told my dad I knew what the ladies wanted.”

You groaned softly, teetering between amusement and playful annoyance. You turned around in his hold, hands rising to hold his warm cheeks.

“You’re corny..”

Daisuke smiled, thumb tracing the small of your back, messing with the fabric of the top you wore. “And lucky for me, you’re into it.” You didn’t need to agree nor deny, given the sweet kiss you pressed to his lips was answer enough. He kneeled to meet you fully, tugging you so close as if wishing to melt into you. Your noses brushed against each other, cold tips warming as you consumed one another. You loved kissing Daisuke, not just because he was your boyfriend but more-so cause he was a damned good kisser.

His lips always moved so slow at first, before slowly picking up the longer you continued. A hand rose from your back to instead cup the back of your head, a shiver running down your spine the moment his fingers traced up your scalp; messing in your hair.

So desperate.. you two always were. The thought of any interruptions spurred you on to always savor each and every moment with as much as passion as possible.

And it seemed the both of you intended to do just that, as — ever so carefully — Daisuke walked backwards, leading you with him. Once close enough he was descending to the couch, taking you with him by the waist and pulling you onto his lap.

The two of you broke apart for a moment, gulping up the air around you greedily before smashing your lips together with even more vigor. Your hands were clutching his shoulders at this point, suddenly being reminded Daisuke wasn’t just some clueless man.

You shivered as you felt his hand glide, intruding your top to lay his fingers upon your warm skin. With each interlock of your tongues his fingers were digging into your flesh, a soft whine being pushed from his throat into your mouth. The sound alone caused your thighs to clench, moving carefully in his lap.

Which of course, was met with a hiss and a quick squeeze. You questioned this for a moment, before quickly realizing why it happened in the first place.

This only caused you to smile against him, lowering your hips fully before dragging them against him slowly.

Daisuke was off your lips in minutes, hands falling to your waist as a hushed groan escaped his bruised lips.

“Here?..” The man spoke gently, eyes flicking from between your bodies before back to your face. His eyebrows furrowed as you continued your languid drags, biting the inside of his cheek nervously.

You nodded slowly, leaning closer to press your lips to his ear. “Mhm.. here.”

“Then.. I want to feel— more. Please.” His words were sweet, allowing them to settle in the air for a moment before his fingers were curling to tug at your pants, allowing you to get the message. You stood up rather quickly, pushing your pants down and off, the bottoms pooling at your ankles.

You watched as Daisuke did the same, now only in plain boxers, a funny contrast to the gaudy everyday shirt he usually wore.

Stepping out of your pants, you caught his hands as you made your way back to his lap, brushing your clothed cunt right against his growing bulge as you sat down. It was your time to whine as you felt him through your thin fabrics, Daisuke capturing your lips rather quickly afterwards.

Slowly, you began that same languid pace, gripping his shoulders for stability as you dragged your hips back and forth.. back and forth. His nails were digging into your thighs, meeting your movement with a small, desperate thrust. Moans passed between the two of you, warmth, and music mixing into a sensation that you could only describe as euphoria.

Dramatic sure, but what else could you call it, exactly?

“Could come.. ju—just from this.” Daisuke mumbled the moment the two of you broke apart for air, his face falling to your neck to stamp wet kisses to your skin. He was gentle not to focus too much on a single area, worrying about leaving behind a mark. Though, it seemed rather contradictory given the location the two of you chose for your.. fun.

You were aching, panties surely soaked with arousal as that itch grew. You could only pant in his ear, unsure how exactly this felt so good. Maybe it was pent up, a mixture of stress and the misfortune of lack of alone time. Regardless, it wasn’t your job to figure it out at the moment.

The only job you had right now was to continue to chase this feeling, for as long as you could.

Daisuke pulled you closer if humanly possible, hips rising up from the couch as he ground up into you. He wasn’t lying early, despite zero actual contact he could feel himself twitching— begging for release. The effect you had on him was far too great, after all.

Desperate breaths escaped you, thighs shaky yet yearning for more. His touch, everything, you wanted to feel it all. Your fingers rose to curl into his hair, leaning into his ear as the softest more, dropped from your tongue.

Your words spurred him, fingers squeezing your flesh, nails tracing against those pretty marks that lined your hips.

“You want more?.. Of course, whatever you want.”

Daisuke could never deny you, no matter how small the request was. In minutes he was tugging his boxers down to his thighs, hand lazily dragging across his length. It was a pretty color, lighter than him, with a mole on the under side of his shaft.

The man then reached with his other hand to curl his finger on your panty, tugging it to the side and exposing your soft cunt to his hand. For a moment his finger gently circled your hardened bud, enjoy the pleasant noises you struggled to keep down.

But soon enough he was becoming as desperate as you, helping you position carefully, rubbing his weeping tip against your clit. Daisuke hissed, continuing to coat his dick in your arousal before finding your entrance, lining up, and raising his hips to push himself inside.

The both of you groaned, your eyes pinched closed as you sunk down. Your walls wrapped around his length perfectly, swallowing him up and keeping him deep inside. With each breath you released you clenched, causing the young man under you to struggle to keep his mind straight. Daisuke couldn’t help being so inexperienced, and well.. neither could you, given you felt a single movement would be enough to push you over the edge.

Your eyes slowly opened, gaze falling to his face, taking the time to map out his expression. Would it be corny to call him beautiful? Was it corny to find your lover beautiful in a such state? Under your mercy, as close as biologically possible? Maybe.. but you didn’t dwell on it long, instead deciding to graze your palms across his cheeks, thumbs coming to trace the moles on either side.

“I love you.”

Your words were earnest, laced with the sweetest honey. You smiled, watching his own signature smile cross his face, perfectly. Like any other time.

Daisuke pulled you even closer, a grip to your thigh as he leaned to just a breath’s away.

“See. Now you’re the corny one.”

Your lover swallowed the pretty laughter threatening to leave your chest, all smiles as his arms wrapped around your waist. Once tucked close and snug, his hips, the small thrust enough for the both of you to sigh into the other’s mouth.

Soon enough your knees were pressing against the cushions, hips rising and falling into his lap. With each drop, wet skin smacked against each other, certainly a worrying sound but the two of you seemed to no longer care.

You were too caught up in each other anyway.

Your fingers curled into his silky locks, crying out into his mouth as he stirred you up deeply. His length hit each spot perfectly, a mold made specifically for you. And what’s more, the moment a hand snaked under your skirt to drag his thumb across your nipple— you began to see stars.

Daisuke groaned into you, meeting each drop of your hips with desperate thrusts. You felt so good, way too good. He tried to keep his voice down as to avoid alerting the others, and hear you. You just sounded far too good to ignore.

Your shaky breaths, the way your voice pitched whenever his tip brushed against that special spot — don’t even get him started on the gasps you made when Daisuke went, just a little too deep. Alas he couldn’t focus on the growing list of reasons for his obsession you; bringing you complete pleasure was the main objective.

“You’re clenching me.. you’re going to come, aren’t you?” Daisuke drawled against your lips, pressing a kiss to them before dragging his own over to your ear. Each pant and groan hit it directly, the man at this point helping you rise and fall upon his cock.

“I want you to finish.. all over me.”

“Daisuke—!”

“Not so loud..” The intern spoke in a soft rasp, squeezing you close as his end grew closer. “I don’t need the others to hear you like this. It’s on—only for me, yeah?”

You shook your head rapidly, lip nearly bleeding from how hard you were biting down, your fingers digging into his shoulders— sure to leaves marks despite the shirt he wore.

Within moments you were seeing white, clutching him as you fulfilled his wish. Your arousal coated his dick and thighs, making a sticky mess that was surely on the couch by now.

Daisuke swore under his breath, bringing you onto his lap in one final thrust before filling you up. Luckily he remembered you took the pill as to regulate your period.

The two of you panted, in sync with each other and the music that seemed to still be blasting in your ears. How exactly your earbuds sustained that erratic movement, you will never know nor question.

You pulled back to glance at Daisuke, spotting the man already looking at you, smiling brightly.

You rolled your eyes, glancing down at the space between your two bodies.

“This is going to be so annoying to clean.”

Daisuke stifled his laughter, pulling you into a tight hug, eyes shining whilst he stared up at the screen;

“Maybe… I love you too, [Name].”

657 notes · View notes

hoshigray · 10 months ago

Note

hey!! I love you works=) Can I request a fem!chubby(optional)reader x gojo,where gojo is her mean roommate and after a night when he had fun with a random girl and reader couldn't sleep because of it she confront him and he shows her how much he loves-hates her (NSWF if you can,when I say love-hate I mean he loves her,but she is not afraid to attack his ego so he finds this quite annoying) I truly understand if you don't want to write and I respect your decision =) I just say to try my luck and see if you like the idea

lol well, I'm lucky to have time to indulge in this idea, so why not? hope i did this right...

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x roommate! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - the reader can be read as chubby or not - implied mutual feelings/pining - kissing/making out - teasing - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping and licking) - doggy style + missionary position - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up) - Gojo being a bit whipped for you - pet names (angel, baby, princess, sweetie) - implied usage of alcohol - mention of saliva/drool. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.1k

“God, you can be such a fucking dumbass…Who told you to drink so much?”

“Listen–hic–I was just being the life of the party. Plus, gotta impress the ladies~”

“Oh, for God’s sake, just eat your damn mocha bread.”

Lying on the living room couch with you sitting on your knees on the carpet, tending to his drunken state, was not something Satoru Gojo had planned. It was supposed to be a chill night at the club with the guys – Geto, Nanami, and Haibara – yet he somehow found his way to the dance floor and danced like a rock star, drinking like a fish from taking up all the shots bought by all the women infatuated by him. What can he say; he could never refuse the ladies, even if he doesn’t like alcohol.

However, he’ll admit he might have overdone it and puked in the club bathroom for a solid 20 minutes before his friends decided it was time to go. You opened your apartment door to your roommate being carried by Haibara and Geto, the dark-haired men apologizing for the inconvenience at the late hour after dropping their friend on the couch and leaving you to deal with the tipsy fool.

Although, with him dealing with the raging headache and horrid acid from the vomit earlier ruining his tastebuds, Gojo would say this wasn’t all too bad. Why? Well, now he has his cute roommate to look after him like they always do.

Although he feels a bit bad that you were up to see him at this ungodly hour, watching you sitting beside him and feeding him his favorite snack to ease his subsiding intoxication made him feel warm. The little pout on your face as you break apart pieces of the mocha bread to feed into his mouth, your gorgeous eyes examining him to see if he’s okay, and your cute pajamas comprised of an oversized shirt and some shorts. If it meant being treated by you like this, the snow-haired man figured he ought to get drunk more often.

The only problem was you nagging at him like he was a child, grabbing for his hand to hold the glass of water on his own. “Drink; I don’t want you puking on my carpet.” Yup, you were his roommate, all right.

He rolled his eyes while taking a sip. “You’re supposed to be talking all sweet and slow to me here because my head’s going at sixty miles an hour. Aren’t you supposed to be sympathetic to the weak?”

You scoffed. “Oh please, you are not weak; you’re just dumb enough to drink whatever thing some pretty girl gives you.”

“Hmph,” He puffs at you, evoking your eye to twitch. “Well, maybe I should just go back to the venue and find that pretty lady who was dancing with me all night!” He takes a bite of some more mocha bread. “I’m sure she’d be nice enough to minister to my drunk self.”

That was a lie. There was a lady he was dancing with, the same lady who hung out with the guys at the club and had a good time with them. The woman was a wild and entertaining girl, Gojo will admit. But in all aspects, she was just there; she was nothing. If anything, Gojo wished that you were there instead of her. You were busy with work, opting to sit this out and maybe go with the guys the next time.

And although he didn’t try to argue (outside of pestering you in giving in and coming along), he couldn’t get his mind off you while he was away. You were all he could think about, wondering if you were okay or if you remembered to eat dinner. Or just imagining you being with him, wearing something nice and letting loose around his friends – around him. Fuck, just visioning him and you dancing together would’ve been such a treat and probably saved his poor liver and stomach from all the alcohol.

Instead, he’s spending the last moments of his late-night high with you, who should be sleeping. You say to him, “Would you?”

He draws his brows upwards. “Hmm?”

“Would you go back?” he now notices the look on your face, as if you’re going back and forth with something internally. “I mean, probably not because I’m sure whoever has to deal with you can’t feed you your favorite bread.”

He hums, taking note of your expression and your fingers playing with the edge of his plate. “Why do you ask?”

“Because Nanami called me earlier when you were getting a little too wild, like, five shots in,” The number throws the man in a whirlwind; damn, I had more than five? “And he told me you were so tipsy and touchy that you couldn’t stop asking about me. Like, ‘Where’s Y/n’ or ‘Man, I wish Y/n was here; they love this song.’”

Did I say that? “I said that?” A curt nod is given to Gojo, and he presses his lips to a thin line. Ah, shit.

“All I’m saying is,” you continue with a pout. “It would be pretty scummy of you to say you’d wanna hang with another woman and then turn around and worry about me, for whatever reason.”

Sky-blue eyes observe yours downcasted to the plate with the sweet bread. He couldn’t ignore how cute you avoided his gaze — it’s what prompted him to say this: “…There is a reason.”

“Hmm?”

“I didn’t worry about you for nothing,” you watch the white-haired man bring his upper body up from the couch with his elbows. His face is now a foot away from yours, close enough for you to see the earnest glint in his eyes under the soft, warm glow of the ceiling lighting. “Nothing is for ‘whatever’ reason if it’s with you.”

Your brows furrowed together, eyes avoiding Gojo’s gaze. “What could that reason be, I wonder. You’re just saying that so I can stop being up taking care of—“You couldn’t finish that sentence; how could you when Gojo brought a hand to your chin and prompted you to look back at him? Azure eyes pierced right into yours; it made your heart skip, and your body dare not to move.

“You want me to prove you wrong?” He asks with a neutral expression, hard for you to gauge what’s on his mind. You know him; he likes to poke fun or try to get you riled up. So, this shouldn’t be any different (aside from him holding your chin).

You huff, “Go ahead.”

And it was there where you should’ve chosen your words carefully.

“Khaaa! Ohhh! G–Gojo, stop…! Y’r fingerss—Ahhaaa!”

“Aht, aht, don’t do that, angel. Open those legs up for me…Fuck, you’re so cute…Mmm”

It took you aback when Gojo stood up from the couch, took your hand, and walked you from the living room to his room. Confusion on your part turned into immediate shock when he brought you into a kiss. With wide eyes and thoughts going at a million miles per hour, you instinctively tried to brush him off you. But one kiss turned into two, and two kisses turned into three. And before you know it, you sink into the feel of his pillowy lips, a leg situating between yours while your hands come around his neck.

And the surprises don’t stop there; Gojo then hoists you up — yes, picks you up! — and brings you to his bed to continue laying his lips on you. Your shaky moans resulted from his kisses trailing from your chin to your collarbone, the humps of his lower half chafing the groin of your shorts. The twitch of your chasm happens involuntarily — how embarrassing! Especially when he distracts you by claiming your lips again so he can pull down your bottoms and panties.

And that’s how we end up here, you crying out for him as he kisses and nibbles on your ear while his fingers play with your wet folds. “—Ahahhnn!! G–Gojo, no..! Not there…Hnnfff…!”

“You say that, but you’re not letting my fingers go, huh.” He chortles before kissing your cheek, stuffing his middle finger to aid his forefinger in scraping your inner walls. The wails that escaped your lips were so unlike the stern persona he’d usually deal with; they provoked him into wanting to hear more. “Damn, didn’t know my little cute roomie could make such cute sounds. Let me hear more, ‘kay?”

Cute!? The adjective had your cheeks increase in heat with the twitch of your southern walls clamping onto Gojo’s digits. “Hoooh! Q–Quit playing with me, Gojo; just stop going so fa—Aaahhhh!!”

From your protest, his fingers go even faster. And worse, he sneaks his thumb to your clitoris, where he shocks your body with swipes and grinds to the delicate pearl. Too fast for you to chew on your lip to shield the creams, “Hey now, I said call me by my name.” He looks at you with flushed cheeks and soft, hooded eyes — way too late to blame the alcohol for such effects. But you can see the passion that’s burning inside those blue orbs of his. “Don’t be stubborn on me, pretty girl. What’s my name, Y/n?”

God, first cutie, now pretty girl; how many names was he gonna call you to drag you deep into your pool of embarrassment? “Haahhh, Satoru, please,” your body jerks to the jabs of his fingers hitting inside you.

“Heh, good girl. My little angel…” Gojo kisses you again, sucking on your tongue with a teasing vigor before lifting your shirt to display your body to him in its whole form. Your breasts spill open for him to claim a nipple into his mouth for a quick suck. He then travels down your abdomen, playfully nibbling on your soft skin and flesh for you to jerk. His hands massage your inner thighs after spreading them further.

His face then comes down to your bare cunt, blowing on it to make you squirm. “Fuck, I’ve been wanting to look at you for so long. You made such a gorgeous mess for me.”

“Go fuck yourself, Gojo,” you peer down at him, only for him to beam with a mischievous smile. Damn, you cursed his dimples for making him look like a childish bastard!

“No thanks, I’m more interested in fucking this cute thing.” He snickers to himself before descending further in between your legs and having you gasp sharply at the feel of his lips on your slit. His tongue swishes between your folds and sucks in your leaking substances for him to savor, the wet muscle teasing its entrance of your vagina before inserting inside.

You almost choke on your spit, crying out for him to stop and trying to close your legs. But that proves worthless, Gojo’s hands holding them to your chest for him to feast on you properly. You’re forced to accept the laps of his tongue, and it has your ears ringing with the obscene sounds coming from the commotion.

“—Ohoo!! Satoru, stop!!” You bring a hand to his head to grab a tuff of his snow-white hair. It does nothing, only making him eat you out even more unsteadily. His nose occasionally bumps into your clit, your other hand gripping the sheets. “Stooop it, I’m gonna cummm, if you keep….!”

“Go ahead, baby,” he withdraws his mouth, slipping his fingers back inside you to massage euphorically. Your eyes roll up when he licks on your clitoris. “Let’s see my pretty angel be messy for me.”

You couldn’t prevent yourself from following his command even if you wanted to, the fingers and his wet muscle all doing their part in making sure you give in. And so you do, releasing the reins to let your orgasm overcome you, clamping onto his fingers as it pass through your body through the shocks and your erotic howls.

And Gojo eats you up through your sensitive nerves and all, his hands not letting you writhe out of this as he stuffs his face into your cunt. Your body jolts with every passing shock until it relaxes. And even then, Gojo still carries a naughty grin when lifting his face and licking his digits. “Look at that, princess. Making my fingers all pretty.”

The display made your ears hot. “Don’t play with it like that!”

“Why, I’m gonna play with you a whole lot more, anyway,” he says while kissing your thighs. He surprises you with a bite, making you huff in surprise. “Gonna play and mark you all mine all night long.”

And he was not lying. Everything happened so fast; one moment, you’re lying on Gojo’s bed with him, eating you out until you come from his mouth two times. The next moment, your pajamas are stripped off you and thrown to the floor along with his.

“—Noohhh!! Ohhh, fuuuck, ahh, ‘Toruuu, yer goin’ too fast…! Slow down!!”

“Hnngh! Ahhhh, easy for you to say with you gripping on me like crazy…Holy shiiiit, you feel so good…”

Now, you two in the nude are fucking like animals. The hour is way past late for noises to disrupt your neighbors, yet here you are on Gojo’s bed with your face down to the sheets and your ass propped up for him to drill his length deep inside you. He’s caged you beneath him, his strong arms on either side of you while his hips thrust into your plump ass and thighs. The sounds of the action were so raunchy to the ears, something straight from a porno.

The two of you have been going at it for about two previous rounds; your body is already sensitive and sweaty from this. You want to be tired – your mind is trying to tell you you’re exhausted. However, it’s impossible to think of anything else with Gojo hammering his dick into you like no tomorrow. Excessive come leaks from your cunt down your thighs, a white ring forming around the base of his shaft — evidence of your sexes union.

“Ohhh Jesus, this ’s too much…Nnnphh!” The clap of your ass smacking onto Gojo’s pelvis made you sheepish, sinking your face further into the sheets to try and conceal your cries. But that’s not working when the tip of his cock grazes your velvety walls in such a precise motion that you almost choke on a sob, drool coming down your mouth. “Oh God, right there, ‘Toruuu…”

The white-haired man observes from above, examining your round ass and body jerk from his movements. Fuck, you looked so fucking sexy like this under him, wailing out from him being able to make you feel so good. It strokes his ego so badly, but that’s what happens when he’s finally proving to you how much he’s wanted your body like this. Your erotic body, your adorable mewls, and your amazingly tight cunt clenching on him as if you don’t want to let him go — it all makes his head pound, and his strokes smack on your harsher.

“Shiiiit, I’m so close…” He moans with a cold sweat that rolls down to his chin and hits the skin of your trapezius. Gojo then decides to switch things up before his evident release comes knocking. “Hey, sweetie. Let me see that pretty face of yours.”

You were already maneuvered to face him before he could finish that sentence, your front forced to be seen in his gaze. Your half-lidded orbs locked in with Gojo’s as he bucks his hips to you during missionary. Oh, what an intimate position!

“Hic—Don’t look!” You say while putting your hands up to his face – accidentally hitting the bottom of his chin, taking him by surprise – not wanting him to see your disheveled and messy self under his observant eyes.

But that didn’t fly by with him, immediately grabbing your wrists and pinning them down. “Oh, none of that, princess,” his face descends to brush his nose against yours. “I told you I’d prove you wrong. So, how am I supposed to do that with you hiding from me like that?”

You gulp to give him a snarky answer, “Mmmph—You’ve proven that enough!”

“I don’t think so,” he chuckles lightly; fuck, he sounds so hot. “With you, there’s never enough.” He takes your lips with him before you can say more, grinding his hips onto your squelching chasm to scrape your sensitive spots to evoke your screams to be taken from his mouth.

Gojo then snaps his hips into you at an unsteady tempo, the rhythm too fast to comprehend and catch yourself. The rough hits of his dick so harsh and sporadic, and your mewls are muffled by his kisses. Your hands go to his back, preparing yourself for the climax that rushes back to you for the fifth time that night.

Oh, fuck, oh my fucking God! And it hits you like a slap to the face; your exhausted body trembles for yet another crescendo to crash over you. Your legs come around to Gojo’s waist to hold on. And Gojo’s not too far from orgasming on his own; the fluttering contractions of your cunt force him to give in and spill into you once again, groaning into your wet and puffy lips.

The two of you embrace the jolts of your bodies in union, your lips glued to his as he kisses you through it all. And he drops his sweaty body on yours, the heat between you two sticking to your skins from the contact. A hand comes to the top of your head, caressing and massaging your scalp to further your relaxed state.

Gojo breaks the kiss with a soft sound, and a string of saliva sticks to you two until it’s broken apart from his ascent. He chortles, using a thumb to wipe your mouth from spit. “Well, did I make my point?”

You send him a tired glare, sighing heavily while your finger traces his back. “More than enough, Satoru.”

He beams, the dimples returning to blind you. “Good! Because I was thinking of going for another round—“

Your lips quiver with dread at the words, grabbing for a pillow and instantly hitting him in the head with it, not caring about him exclaiming in pain from the impact.

“Hurry up and get off me, you drunk, horny bastard!!”

But one thing was definite; it wasn’t the alcohol that Gojo was drunk on — it was you.

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demiesworld · 1 year ago

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thinking about men who are obsessed with big girls.

☆ — men who love the stretch marks on your hips, thighs, tummy, ass, tits, and arms. you call them weird when they plant their face in between your plump breasts as you're cuddling. but the affection they show towards what you call "flaws" is genuine and heartening.

☆ — men who makes it their habit to help you apply your lotion to your body after your shower. they have you laying on a towel on your stomach and they rub it all over your skin. "i like it when your skin feels soft and smooth." they answer when you ask them why they like to put lotion on your body. in reality it's because they want to explore your chubby body with their hands. fingers rubbing circles onto your skin and groping on the fat flesh on your love handles.

☆ — when they get agitated by something and you're near by them, they wrap their arm around your waist and squeeze your tummy. jiggling it in their hand as they're trying to assess a problem that's making them irritated in their head.

☆ — men who love it when you wear crop tops that show off your tummy, shorts that barely go over your ass and leave some cheek hanging out, and body hugging dresses (without the shapewear). especially when you're at the pool wearing a two piece swimsuit.

nsfw under the cut!

☆ — men who can't control themselves when you ride them reverse cowgirl and your round ass cheeks are recoiling each time you slam your pussy down on his dick. his eyes are darkened yet focused on your ass because, fuck, the sight of them jiggling and clapping when they hit his skin is mesmerizing. "god... you do that so good baby. riding my cock like that, oh fuck." there's sticky strings of white attached to your pussy and on his cock. your head is tossed back and mouth is singing a chorus of squeaky moans from his cock ramming into your sweet spot. he smacks you on your ass repeatedly till the skin is stinging and it gets sore.

☆ — men who like to fuck you when you're on your stomach. this position is their favorite because they have control over the pace and they get a view of your body jiggling by their hard thrusts. he has his right arm wrapped under your tummy and gripping the fat on your waist. the left one is squeezing your breast and pinching your nipples. he likes that he could toss you around on the bed and fuck you hard enough that you're seeing stars. "can't talk anymore baby eh? did i make- fuck- make you go dumb?"

☆ — men who get excited when you get on your knees and take his big cock into your mouth. your fingers can barely connect around the base of it and you make an effort in swallowing his full length down your throat. your head tilted back shows him the bulge and it drives him crazy that you could do that. "mmm, fuck, mm, just like that. i love that shit baby." he thrusts his hips forward and bullies his dick in your mouth like he does when he's in your pussy. your head game has his legs shaking and balls tightening up when he's getting close to cumming. he tells you stop so he could come on your face, but you hold him by his thighs and lower your mouth on his shaft. your throat flexes around his dick, and he breaks, he releases a heavy load down your throat. just when he thought you couldn't get any nastier you swallow it and fondle his balls.

☆ — men who want for you to sit your pussy down on their face when they eat you out. their pointed nose rubbing at your clit with their long tongue wiggling inside of you. you're going numb when they jostle their head around. he gives your ass gentle smacks as you slowly start to rock your hips on his face. you can't help yourself though, it just feels so good. he makes a gesture for you stop, and he lifts the hood of your clit up, then his tongue flicks rapidly to the hard bud. a shudder crashes through your body, as you whimper and tangle your fingers in his hair. pulling at the strands when you bring his face closer and grind your hips again on his face. "daddy, daddy, i'm going to cum, daddy! m'ohh, ahh, hm!" you whine. you feel a tightness in your stomach at the same time your body is lifted up and you're on the bed with your head on the mattress and rest of your body hoisted up in the air. your feet are touching your shoulders. you look up to see him fucking his tongue into your pussy. in between short breaths, out of his mouth are the words, "come on baby, make this pretty pussy come on my tongue." and your hole clenches around his tongue, a stream of your juices spurt onto his face and drip down your body. his mouth pulls off from your mound smacking his wet lips and tasting yourself on his mouth.

☆ — men who after they're done fucking you they cuddle with you on the bed and just feel all over your body. their hands caress your soft skin and grope on your breasts. his deep voice is whispering praises, appreciations, and assurances into your ear. "i love you so much baby," "you're so fucking beautiful." "don't worry honey i'm not going anywhere." no matter the size of you, they carry you into the shower and help you wash off the body fluids. still they murmur appreciation for your existence as they clean you.

(jjk) gojo, TOJI, NANAMI, geto, choso, sukuna, (kny) TENGEN, RENGOKU, sanemi, (aot) jean, EREN, ERWIN, connie, (tokyo rev) mikey, kakucho, DRAKEN, HANMA, TAIJU, baji, ran, rindou, (marvel) MIGUEL O'HARA, steve rogers, bucky barnes, any of your favs! ♡

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stellawish · 5 months ago

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bad dream

how papa toji deals with gumi’s nightmares genre: fluff warnings: none. just dilf toji

Besides the occasional snoring, the sound of a baby's cry filled the bedroom

Toji's breathing pattern changed, he opened his eyes. After blinking a couple of times, he turned his head toward the baby monitor.

He groaned pushed the blanket aside. Cracking his neck, he got out of bed. As he headed toward the nursery, he rubbed his face with his hands, trying to fully wake up. The sound of the baby's cries grew louder.

He entered the nursery, illuminated only by the nightlamp. As he approached the crib, he was met with a heart-wrenching scene that made him frown.

His nine-month-old son was curled up, holding a plush cow close. Despite the crying, his eyes remained closed. Nightmares, Toji thought.

Megumi is a placid baby. While all the other babies his age were usually fussing, he was always quiet and rarely cried. Therefore, in the moments when he did cry, Toji always panicked inside.

He gently stroked his son’s damp back and tenderly said, "Hey Gumi, wake up." The baby’s cries subsided, and he opened his doe eyes, turning his head toward Toji, he blinked his tear-streaked lashes.

“Papa,” the baby mumbled, and his crying resumed, he reached out his little arms. Toji immediately picked him up and held him close to his bare chest. Megumi buried his face in Toji’s neck. “Papa,” he let out a long sob, wrapping his chubby arms around his strong neck. Toji’s lip trembled.

"'S okay, Gumi, papa’s here," Toji whispered gently. "Just a bad dream. You safe"

He stroked his son’s back and walked over to the chair. "Papa chased away the bad monsters," he soothingly said. With tender motions, he ran his hands over Megumi's head and back, reassuring him that papa’s here. He’s not alone. The crying gradually subsided, leaving only the sounds of the baby's hiccups in the room.

Gently soothing his baby, Toji recalled the star projector his colleague had recently gifted him. He’d tested it once, and Megumi seemed to like it.

Without hesitation, he stood up, still holding the sobbing baby and walked over to the drawer. After finding the projector, he returned to the chair, placed it on the table, and turned it on. "Look, Gumi," he said.

Megumi pulled away from Toji’s shoulder and sniffled. Seeing the bright stars on the wall, he rubbed his eyes with chubby little fists then turned his head and noticed that the entire ceiling and walls were covered in them.

He opened his mouth and blinked adorably. Toji smiled and wiped away the traces of tears from the baby’s round cheeks and kissed his son on the forehead.

Thank God it worked.

Gumi looked at his father and pointed his tiny finger at the ceiling look papa! Toji grinned and wiped the mucus from Megumi’s tiny face. The sensation of the rough skin made the baby scrunch up his nose amusingly.

Pressing his chubby cheek against Toji's shoulder, Megumi continued to gaze at the stars, blinking his wet lashes. His sniffles grew quieter and he started to yawn.

Toji kept rocking in the chair, gently stroking the baby's back. Megumi’s breathing gradually steadied, and his eyes closed. "Sleep tight, baby. Papa will watch over your dreams."

btw my ask inbox is open so feel free to share your thoughts about jjk!dads

and if u have any requests lmk!!🩷

so y’all really liked dad!gojo. how about papa!toji now hm??

dividers 2.

#jjk fluff #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji fluff #dad!toji #baby megumi #toji zenin #jujutsu kaisen toji #megumi fushiguro #megumi fluff #jujutsu toji

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mactavishsgfandwife · 11 months ago

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Dad!Simon Taking Your Daughter to the Optician’s (Fluff)

another random one but OMG imagine your daughter had needed those adorable baby glasses and simon took her to the optician to buy a pair 😭 like awwwwweewwwwwwwwe purest domestic fluff ever, not proofread

He pulls her tiny, pink raincoat off of the coat hangers by the door, along with his own black bomber jacket that he holds under one arm, and he tenderly leans down to zip up her little jacket - the one with cutesy rubber ducks embroidered at the cuffs. Most people wouldn’t immediately assume them to be father and daughter. This huge, intimidating military man with sunglasses on in early Spring to hide his eyes and a small silver dog tag dangling down around his neck, dwarfed by his broad shoulders - and reaching her hand up to hold his, babbling something unintelligible about rocks, a little girl. Her hair was carefully tied into bunches - Simon had tried to do it himself but he somehow managed to miss out half of her hair, so he lifted her up over his shoulder as if he were a firefighter and went to find you.

"Y’married a soldier, not a hairdresser," he grinned, a little bit embarrassed.

At the optician’s, he guides his little girl around the room, inspecting the shelves of different glasses. He holds her soft, little hand in his big, tough one. For a moment, he is distracted by some informational poster on the wall, but a sudden exasperated gasp from the 3 year old at his feet pulls him back to reality right away. Looking down, he sees her chubby hands holding a pair of adult sunglasses to her eyes, a big grin on her face.

"Glasses! Want glasses, daddy!" she giggles, the specs falling wonky on her little button nose. Simon laughs softly, crouching down to get closer to his baby, his elbows resting on the denim of his jeans.

"You can have glasses, love… but those are too big for a littl’un like you," he leans in to kiss her soft forehead, and tries to place the sunglasses back, as her little fingers paw at them.

"What about these ones..?" he smiles, holding out a little pair of pink glasses, purple at the edges, with sweet little stars along the sides. That smile on his face is met by her exaggerated, pleading eyes and her little sad pout, still trying to reach her hands out to the sunglasses that her daddy had meanly placed on a high shelf. :(

Simon finally settles on buying the sunglasses ‘for himself’, rolling his eyes with a small chuckle as he helps fit those cute, purple glasses to his little girl’s face, turning her to look at herself in the mirror of the shop.

"Ahh!" she lets out a little, excited squeal, "I love it, Daddy!"

"You look so pretty, little girl," he smiles protectively, trying not to laugh as he sees her chubby, grinning face looking up at him behind those glasses that make her eyes seem twice as big as normal.

Her little mary-jane shoes run in circles around the shop, as she lets out little squeaks of joy and mumbles to herself - in the end, it takes your husband a whole 10 minutes to convince her to take them off so that he can buy them, and on the walk home she does her best to speed ahead of him (not that he would ever actually allow her out of his sight), shouting, "Faster, Daddy!", alternating between running away from him and walking slow at his side, panting from the running until he caved and carried her. She was just so excited and couldn’t wait to go home and show Mummy. <3

And she looks so cute when she excitedly rushes into the kitchen, screwing up her face and giggling as she tells you all about her new glasses, Simon leaning against the doorframe in the background and chuckling softly as he watches, unable to hide how much he loves his little family.

i love him so much i’m crying tears thanks for reading lovelies! x

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miguelhugger2099 · 9 months ago

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Quiet Loving

Summary: Miguel loves you and your little family so much.

A/N: made seconds before I fell asleep last night

In the comfort of your husbands arms, you buried yourself closer—it was never close enough in your opinion.

Miguel shared the same sentiment, his beefy and strong arms were firm around your body, tugging you closer in his lap. One arm around your waist and the other cradling your head in the crook of his neck.

When he held you like this, he felt at peace. He didn’t know how else to explain it other than that it felt right. It felt like it mattered—the only thing that mattered. He leaned into to smell your hair, your signature shampoo scent invading his senses and calming his nerves.

Miguel tightened his embrace around you. You were never close enough.

He loved you dearly. Too much, it was borderline concerning to others but not to you.

Footsteps patted down the stairs of your home. Lifting your head from his neck, Miguel groaned—missing the warmth and weight of you. He felt like half of his puzzle piece was missing.

You looked over to see the culprit of the loud unstable stomps down the steps. Your daughter Gabriella, in her purple pajamas, was holding her baby brother, Isaac. Your eyebrows knit in worry to match her own expression.

“Que pasó, mija?” You call out to her and she stands in front of you and Miguel on the couch. Gabriella bounces Isaac in her arms while he babbles and coughs.

“Zee-Zee woke up and I tried putting him back to sleep but…” She holds the baby out to you when Isaac winds up to start crying.

You quickly take your baby boy in your arms and cradle him to your chest. Miguel carefully shuffles you off his lap and tugs his daughter to him.

“I didn’t…I thought I could help Mami.” She whispers to her father. Miguel gives her a soft smile, reaching up to pat her head before ushering her in his lap.

She crawls into his embrace, resting her back on his chest and her head leans on his shoulder. Miguel brings his arms around his little girl, ignoring how bigger she’s gotten since the last time he held her like this.

“You did help Mami, mijita.” Miguel coos. His hand squeezes her tiny shoulder. “It’s the thought that counts. Did he just wake up?”

Gabriella shakes her head. “He was awake for a bit before I realized he wouldn’t sleep.”

Miguel nods and looks over at you as you held his son in your arms. His heart swells with love and pride. He couldn’t ask for a better woman to be the mother of his kids. He couldn’t ask for a better wife to be married to him. He couldn’t ask for a better person to spend his remaining days with.

“Well, I think you did a pretty good job. He didn’t start crying until he saw Mama right?” Gabriella nods. “That means Isaac knew you were there for him. And you knew to bring him to Mama so when he saw her, he felt safe enough to start crying. You did your part, corazón.”

Gabriella sighs, not feeling convinced. Miguel pokes her chest where a purple star was printed on her pajama shirt.

“And I’ll even ignore the fact that you were supposed to be sleeping.” He whispers next to her ear and Gabriella giggles.

“Sorry, Papi.” She mumbles bashfully and hides in his neck. Miguel’s heart softens. He could never be mad at his princess. His hand pets her hair which lulls her to sleep. She was still at an age where early bedtimes were a must, her little body unable to handle staying awake past 10:30.

“It’s okay. It’ll be our little secret.” He whispers as she yawns and snuggles close to her father, her chubby cheek squished on his firm chest.

You look over and grow amused at the sight. A tough man with scars and hard features, turned into putty when his little girl was curled into a ball in his arms. He always held a soft spot for his firstborn—his princess. Miguel’s eyes meet yours and they brightened. No matter what, however, you held most of the space in his heart—his queen.

“Bed?” You asked him softly as you rocked Isaac in your arms. He nodded and you both got up from the couch to head upstairs to their room. Miguel grunted as he moved Gabriella carefully, tucking his arm underneath her legs to carry her bridal style. Gabriella got even not comfortable and Miguel noticed how heavier she’d gotten. He bites back a smile, a soft twinge of melancholy as he realizes how much she’s growing.

You place Isaac in his crib, making sure to wrap him snuggly in his blanket and surrounding the corners and walls with pillows in case he rolls around. Miguel puts Gabriella down gently in her twin sized bed, tucking her blanket up to her chin and plopping her stuffed teddy bear by her head.

Miguel feels you wrap your arms around his waist, you head between his shoulder blades. Miguel grows goosebumps along his skin and he can’t resist the urge to turn around to face you. He cups your cheeks and leans down to pepper your smiling face with kisses. You stifle giggles, not wanting to wake the children.

“Miggy..!” You whisper to him but he only takes you back into his arms where you belong. The only way to stop him from showering you in his affection was when you physically pulled him off you, your hand ins his hair. He has a dopey grin on his face, a look of utter bliss of just putting his kids to sleep with the woman he loves. The woman he had these beautiful babies with. The woman who gave him these beautiful babies. He could never thank you enough.

Miguel shuts the door behind him, making sure all lights are turned off and double checking that the kids are asleep. Back in your bedroom, Miguel is on you once more. His body weighs on top of yours while he kisses you deeply and lovingly. If you two were younger, it would’ve delved into intimacy—stripping off clothes and having to cover your moans with his hand.

But these kisses were anything but lustful. They were a love letter, a language that only you two understood. Miguel spoke of his admiration for you, not just for your body but for your mind and soul. Each kiss was gentle and left no room for longing when he added another kiss immediately right after the other.

His hands pulled your body up to him. No matter how hard he tried he was always unsatisfied that you weren’t close enough. It was never enough. He wanted to drown in you, worship you and be one with you. Some call him obsessed.

He sighed after one final kiss, but even then his lips lingered above yours. Miguel’s eyes followed each scar you had, each freckle or mole, the color of your lips—oh, he adored it all.

“Te amo, te quiero.” He whispered, hurriedly like he needed you to know even when you already did. He was hopelessly in love with you.

“I love you more.” You whisper back.

“Impossible.”

You smile, knowing that Miguel would always want to win this game of who loved each other more. He was so stubborn it would go on for days. When you relented, he rewarded you with love—kissing you silly until you were breathless. Despite being the “loser”, you always felt like the winner at the end.

Miguel rests on top of you, your hand in his hair as his nose breathes by your neck. Your fingernails scratch his scalp and he hums in delight. His thumb rubs up and down your skin by your stomach. He feels the scars of your stretch marks and the rest of the chub you had gained from pregnancy. You never got a second of doubt in your mind when all Miguel did was remind you how gorgeous you were to him.

He lazily presses more kisses to your neck until he grew too sleepy to move. Miguel had grown comfortable in your arms while you held him and his weight felt nice—especially when he could be switched out with a blanket.

Miguel finally falls into a deep slumber and you follow suit, his hand slowly coming to a stop.

A/N: i feel like if miguel hugged me i wouldn’t be mentally ill 🤔

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #miguel x you #miguel o'hara imagine

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sweetchildcloud · 1 year ago

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||MINI ME|| written by me ☆~♡~◇

Plot: Gojo being an affectionate father as he meets his baby for the first time.

Tags-Breast feeding mention,lots of cuddles,fluff,fatherly love,heartwarming,cute overload.

@muzansslxt @candy69gurl @kiwicopia

“You’re cuter” Gojo teases, but he is pleased. He likes watching you nurse Hotaru. It’s a special moment, for the both of you and your child. “He’s adorable” Satoru continues, his voice dripping with affection “but his mother… hm, far more gorgeous" Satoru laughs softly and pulls the baby in for a tight squeeze. Then, he lifts his head and stares at him once more, holding him at arm's length. The baby’s eyes are wide and bright, like stars in the sky "You have my eyes, little one. You have my eyes...and that adorable chuckle" He adds, before grinning to himself. It feels good looking at his baby. Good and strange. The whole situation was a bit surreal, in a good way, but... "I think I'm starting to understand what being a dad means"

Hatoru yawned as he wobbled scooting near his father chest and laying his head on his shoulder.

Satoru grins as he feels the weight of his son’s head resting on his shoulder. He gently caress Hotaru’s head as the baby falls asleep, and Satoru’s hand comes down to rub soft circles on his son’s back.

Hatoru yawned and he whimpered softly as he couldn't sleep continuously sifting in his dad embrace.

Satoru looks down at his son, noticing the baby’s tired, watery eyes. Immediately, he feels guilt again, realizing that his son is still adjusting to his new surroundings and hasn’t gotten used to falling asleep by himself yet. With a gentle sigh, he pulls Hotaru close to himself again, his grip tightening around the baby as a way to offer more comfort. “Shh” Satoru whispers quietly as he rocks his son “It’s okay… I’m here. I’m here….”

But that didn't help much as Hotaru whimper continued, his tiny fists clutching to his chest as he whimpers, more maybe he needed his pacifier.

Satoru’s heart twists when he hears the cries continue. He couldn’t stand seeing his son like this, with his tiny fists clutching his cheeks and his big, blue eyes so watery. Without a second thought, he pulls out a pacifier from his pocket and pops it into Hotaru’s mouth. The baby chews on the pacifier with an adorable expression, sucking on it as he does. “Better?” Satoru smiles, letting out a breath of relief.

Satoru stares at his son for a long moment, his breath caught in his throat over how *tiny* the baby is. His tiny fists on Satoru’s chest, his chubby cheeks as they wobble with his yawns, a small smear of drool as he sucks on the pacifier—everything about the little one makes Satoru’s heart swell. The baby looks incredibly adorable right now, and Satoru can’t help but feel a little happy to see the little one so calm.

"Boop" Gojo said soflty as he booped softly Hatoru little bitty nose with the tip of his finger and the baby made a cooing noise curling up his nose.

You sighed looking at the two of them and how cute they were before you let a yawn of your own "Let's go to bed sweetie" you said tiredly at Gojo.

“In a few minutes” Satoru pouted whispering, his gaze still on his son. “Just…” The baby’s sleepy eyes are adorable, and he can’t help but feel affectionate seeing them in this state. “Just let me cherish this moment, please?”

"Oh my god you're so adorable, you're not having a baby fever now are you?" You asked smirking looking at him.

“Maybe a little...” Satoru smiles, not denying it. The entire situation with them becoming parents was a bit overwhelming, but... it was so worth it. He loves it here, with his son in his arms, smiling at him just as he is. “You’re not jealous are you? And “If you mean ‘is seeing my baby like this making me feel all kinds of feels’? Yes” he answers, feeling a bit sheepish “And if it’s not baby fever, then… I don’t even know what to call it. Just watching him sleep makes me smile for some reason”

He paused before adding

“Is that weird?” He asks, still admiring Hotaru’s sleeping form. “I just feel…” A strange feeling of warmth erupted throughout his body. Love, maybe? “I feel content”

"No,not at all,it just means that you love your son and I feel the same" you said caressing softly the baby cheek as he sleeps

The warm sensation spreads through Gojo’s chest as he stares down at his son. Hatoru is so small and innocent that he makes Gojo want to cover him in kisses and hugs. He never imagined being a father would make him feel like this. Love and affection, sure, but this… this is a whole new world of emotions that he’s never experienced before. “It’s a nice feeling” he murmurs. “A very nice feeling”

“We should get to bed now, right?” He asks, still watching his son’s sleeping face, then looking over to you. He doesn’t want to miss this moment, but he also doesn’t want you to exhaust yourself.

"You can bring the baby in our bed so that we can sleep together"

Satoru looks down at Hotaru at your suggestion and his heart flutters. Yes. He wants that. He wants that very, *very* much. The two of you could sleep in bed with the baby together. Hold him close as he sleeps. It would be the most content moment of his life. Satoru swallows, trying to keep himself from smiling like an idiot. “That’s a great idea”

Satoru nods and gets up, taking his son in his arms once more. The baby is *so* light. So delicate. So cute. He chuckles as he follows you up the stairs, and walks into the bedroom. Your bed is large enough for a king, and it doesn’t take you long to climb into bed and pull Hotaru with each of you at either side. “We’re a family” Satoru whispers, his voice nearly breaking. “We’re a family now”

"Are you crying?" You asked giggling softly at your husband antics.

Satoru gives you a sheepish smile. It’s true, he has tears in his eyes. Not tears of sadness, but tears of pure joy. “Am I crying?” he chuckles softly, wiping his eyes. “Maybe just a little. This—” he gestures to their family in bed “—it’s just so beautiful… so precious…” “We created this…” He continues. “Me and you, together, we created this perfect thing” Satoru smiles again, his voice cracking with emotion as he stares down at his son. “There’s nothing better in the world than this”

“You’re a sentimental idiot” you giggled and rolled your eyes amusedly, but you didn't object when Satoru sweeps you up in a warm embrace and pulls you close to hug you. You’re a family now. Hotaru is yours, and together, you are more than you’ve ever been.

Bonus:

Satoru laughs softly, pressing his face against you “I’m a sentimental idiot” He agrees, smiling against your cheek. “But my God, I don’t think there’s anything in the world that can make me so happy right now. You and our baby…” He trails off as he continues to embrace you contented and completely at ease as you both slowly drift off to sleep.

♤♡◇♧☆♤♡◇♧☆♤♡◇♧☆♤♡◇♧☆♤

Me thinking about this:

☆Happy,happy,happy~☆

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katebishopsbow · 1 year ago

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SOMEDAY IT WILL ALL BE OKAY • MAX VERSTAPPEN

pairing: max verstappen x driver!reader (platonic)

summary: watching kevin and his daughter, laura, playing together at the paddock makes you emotional as you remember the love that you never get to receive growing up. max is here to remind you that your past doesn't define you, and one day you will be okay.

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, daddy issues, mentions of absent parent

word count: 3.1k

author's notes: based on the real-life event of me tearing up when i saw that video of kmag's daughter playing with his visor. healing my own daddy issues one fic at a time :)

(image is not mine)

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

Kevin Magnussen is a great dad.

People can say whatever they want about his driving – aggressive and maybe a little dangerous sometimes – but there is no denying that he is an amazing father who puts his daughters above all else. The Dane is always joking about how his two little troublemakers have been giving him a constant headache, but the rest of the grid knows that he would do just about anything for his girls.

Occasionally, Louise likes bringing Laura and Agnes to the track to see their dad at work. Being a Formula 1 driver with all the hectic schedules and non-stop traveling means that family time together can often be difficult to come by, so Kevin cherishes all the time he gets to be as present in their lives as possible.

The drivers all love it when the Magnussens visit the track, not only because Laura and Agnes are the sweetest little angels ever, but also because they get to witness the rare sight of Kevin “tough guy” Magnussen shedding his hard exterior and tease him about the heartwarmingly softer side he displays to his family.

And while you would never admit this out loud, somewhere residing deep within you is envious – envious of this kind of love that you never got to receive. Sometimes when you look at Kevin interacting with his daughters – just sometimes – you find yourself wondering what it would be like to have a father who is present, who genuinely cares, who loves you with everything they have so much that you never have to doubt your worthiness.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

You were standing with a few other drivers at the track, idly chatting about the upcoming race and your holiday plans now that the winter break is right around the corner when Kevin suddenly saunters nearby, holding the hand of the most adorable little girl. “Laura, come say hi!” he kneels down and says to her, sporting the biggest and most loving smile on his face as his daughter gives a shy little wave to the crowd of drivers before her.

“Hey there, Laura,” you wave at her, settling on a simple greeting since you have never been particularly great with children. “Hello, little one!” Lando greets with a wide grin as he offers Laura a fist bump, and the girl explodes into giggles when he pretends to yelp in pain at how hard Laura fist-bumped him. Classic Lando – always so good with kids.

“She’s got quite the punch, doesn’t she?” Kevin jokes while he chuckles at the sight, admiring the joyous smile on Laura’s face with the tenderest gaze he only reserves for his daughter. Becoming a father is the best thing that has happened to him, and he thanks the stars every day for being blessed with such precious gifts of life. Laura and Agnes – his biggest pride and joy.

“Here to be dad’s little assistant, Laura?” Max asks, his nose scrunching up in an adoring smile like the way it always does when he speaks to Penelope. The little girl nods bashfully before running to hide behind her dad, holding onto his hands as if he is her safe place, her rock.

Kevin laughs at his daughter’s endearing shyness, picks her up and envelops her in his embrace before placing a kiss on her rosy, chubby cheeks. “You’re the best assistant in the entire world,” he whispers softly, adoration swimming in his eyes while Laura lets out a giggle at her father’s words. The drivers around them cannot help but smile along with them – how can they not at such a heartwarming sight?

Yet watching Kevin’s doting smiles and the way he looks at his daughter as if she is his entire universe, the initial warm fuzziness within you silently morphs into a dull ache that squeezes at your heart – an odd yet familiar feeling you know all too well. Despite your best efforts to push them away, your mind becomes clouded with hazy memories of the past – the painful past that has broken you and haunted you for years.

In the fogged-up memories of your childhood days, you were never at the receiving end of such an affectionate gaze. The only way your father has ever looked at you was indifference, annoyance, and a sense of uncaringness that tore your little heart up into pieces and left you wondering what you did wrong to be so undeserving of the fatherly love you yearned for.

He never picked you up and hugged you as if you were a fragile treasure that he cherished. He never held your hand in a way that made you feel safe and certain that nothing could ever harm you because he would be your shield, protecting you from the world and its merciless cruelty. He never once made you feel loved and cared for, ignoring your attempts to gain his validation and approval because he loved himself and his ego more than he would ever love you.

When you received good grades at school and showed him your report card with the rows of A’s, hoping that it would help you get his approval, he didn’t praise you. In fact, he didn’t bother saying anything. He simply gave you a half-hearted nod before shifting his attention back to the damned television screen in front of him, some uninteresting TV show that never should have mattered more than his daughter. So you stuffed the tear-stained report card back into your school bag, uncaring that it got crushed and crumpled, because in the end your hard work and effort didn’t matter. It never did.

When you had a rough day at school and came home with tears running down your cheeks, your father looked at you for a second, rolled his eyes and walked away. So that night you cried yourself to sleep as you soaked through your pillows with your wallowing tears, wishing that your dad could wrap you in his arms and tell you that everything would be okay. You knew that he could hear your sobs across the hallway, but chose to ignore you anyway. You wondered if he hated you that much, or was it simply because he never even cared to begin with?

And when he finally gathered all his belongings and disappeared from your life once and for all, you surprised yourself when you didn’t cry at the sight of the now-empty house. You had just felt empty and lonely – so painstakingly lonely. The kind of loneliness that seeped into your bones and slithered along your veins and consumed your soul.

As you grew older, you became familiarized with that emptiness – comfortable with it even. You begin to find yourself pushing people away when they get too close, keeping most at arm's length because that seems like the safest option, breaking your own heart before others can do it because you never want to experience the same heartbreak your father has put you through.

Despite how painful it is, you hold onto that loneliness like a lifeline because how could you not when that’s the only thing you know? How could you love when you don’t even know what it feels like?

Even though it had been years since your dad had left, the emptiness he had left behind never seemed to fade away. They say time heals all wounds, but you call that bullshit, because then why does it still hurt like a fresh stab into the heart?

Too deep in your storm of thoughts, you don’t realize the tears brimming in your glossy eyes and the way your lips quiver ever so slightly. “Hey… you okay there?” Charles, who is standing beside you, gives you an affectionate pat on the shoulders and whispers hushedly in your ear, worried at your sudden change in demeanor. Quickly nodding your head, you answer him with the best smile you can manage, “Yeah, just remembering some things.”

While most of the drivers still have their focus on Kevin and Laura, a few have also noticed your red-rimmed eyes and quietness. “What’s wrong?” Lando mouths the question silently toward you, eyes wide in concern as he tries not to shift everybody’s attention toward you. You shake your head and mouth “nothing” in reply to him as discreetly as possible, not wanting to ruin the group’s mood with your sudden sentiments.

As much as you want to stay, you simply need to get away for a moment to recollect your thoughts. “Uh – There’s something I need from my driver’s room, so I’m gonna head off,” you hurriedly blink away the tears and put on the best smile – a skill you learned to master after years of being in the public’s eye. You hope that the excuse you just blurted out is somewhat believable, and you quickly disappear into the distance after your fellow drivers bid you goodbye.

While making a beeline for your driver's room, you cannot help but feel so embarrassed, so guilty for the sudden burst of emotions that erupted in your chest moments ago. “What is wrong with me?” you mumble hushedly to yourself as you make your way to the garage – irritated and beyond annoyed at yourself that the mere sight of Kevin with his daughter is enough to bring you to tears.

This isn’t something new to you. It isn’t the first time a good father-daughter relationship has made you tear up. Movies, TV shows, song lyrics – you always get so emotional when you allow yourself to get lost in your thoughts, thinking too deeply about the painful reminders of the love that you never have.

It makes you feel stupid, because how broken do you have to be that trivial things like these are enough to make you cry? And it makes you feel scared, so utterly scared, because what if you were too broken to ever be capable of loving someone this much, too damaged to ever receive love despite yearning for it, and end up pushing away everyone who cares about you for the rest of your life.

When you arrive at your driver's room, you take a seat in the corner, breathing in and out while the self-blaming thoughts inside your head spiral in full force. This is so stupid, you are being stupid, and you hate yourself for being a fool and letting your past trauma affect you like this. Why were you even crying? There is nothing to be crying for. Stop. You need to stop.

Then you hear someone calling your name, voice faint and soft behind the door – Max. “You feeling okay?” he asks, and your delayed response and trembling voice as you answer him, “I’m fine.” are a clear enough indicator that you are far from okay. “Alright, I’m gonna come in now.” A sigh of mixed emotions falls from your lips – annoyance that you never seem to be able to lie to the man, and gratefulness that he always understands what you really need, and right now it is the company of your best friend.

“Hey, kiddo,” he says to you, eyebrows ceasing in sadness when he notices the expression on your face. Max hates seeing you like this, especially knowing the reason behind your tears is your absent father – someone who will never be worthy of having you cry over him.

You wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your race suit, guilt weighing heavily on your chest as you apologize, “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to ruin the mood back there. Did the other drivers notice?” Max shakes his head with a frown, refusing to let you blame yourself for something you should never feel guilty for. “You don’t have to be sorry, you did nothing wrong.”

“I don’t even know why I am crying, honestly. Why am I still so angry and sad after all these years? It’s like… am I always going to be like this, broken? Will the hurt ever go away?” you explain truthfully to him while trying to piece your muddle-up thoughts together, yet you struggle to put them into words. How can you begin to explain the years of trauma your dad has left behind? How can you describe the mess of emotions you have for him – the hatred, the resentment, and the fact that you still love and miss him so much even after everything he has done to you?

You don’t need to, because Max understands, he always does. One of the reasons why you two became close quickly is because you share a similar, troubled past – something that is rather unfortunate to bond over, you would argue, but it brings you a great friend nonetheless. Max’s father isn’t exactly absent like yours – Jos Verstappen is still quite prominent in his life, along with his abusive and manipulative ways of raising his kids which he would vehemently deny and claims to be “tough love” instead.

Even though he is there, it doesn’t change the painful truth that the presence of his father has ruined Max. For years, he thought being violent was the way to solve problems because his dad always seemed to be able to solve his with his fist. He used to believe that you had to be perfect to be deserving of good things in life because he grew up with the punishment of “no dinner” if he had performed poorly in a race. He didn’t know if he would ever be capable of loving someone, and then he met Kelly and Penelope.

“You know… when I first met Penelope, I was terrified. I was scared that I could never be a good enough father figure for her, that I was too ruined to show her the love she deserved to have. But then I saw her, and then I realized I love her more than anything,” he confesses as he places himself to sit beside you, a reminiscent smile dancing on his lips while he remembers his first time meeting Penelope, the little girl who has become his family.

He remembers the suffocating fear of ending up like his father when he first held the hands of little Penelope, mind plagued with all the horrible what-ifs. What if he was a terrible dad? What if he couldn’t ever love Penelope? What if he was just like Jos Verstappen and ended up destroying her childhood with his anger and temper the way his dad had with his?

Then Penelope gave him a sweet smile, her tiny hand holding onto his pinky as she looked into his eyes with such trust and comfort, as if she knew that Max would love her more than anything in the world. Max genuinely thought he was going to cry, his heart surging with an overwhelming amount of love and determination to protect the little girl in front of her and give her the home she and Kelly deserve to have, and that’s when he knew that he had nothing to be afraid of – that he was going to do better than his father.

“Listen, kiddo. Time doesn’t heal all wounds, it just makes the pain bearable. But there will be a day when your wound will still be there – it always will be there – but the pain and the hatred will no longer consume you. And you will realize that you can be better and stronger than your past, that you can break the cycle, that you are deserving of such unconditional love too.” You listen quietly to your best friend’s answer, exhaling a relieved sigh at the words you so desperately need to hear, giving you hope that despite all your trauma, one day you will be able to love with such certainty as well.

You are never too broken to love or be loved. You are not damaged goods that need repairing. You are not a monster for being intimidated by love and affection, for pushing people away even though you want more than anything for them to stay. You just need to allow yourself to heal from the hurtful past, to understand that your past trauma does not define you. You need to allow yourself to feel, to accept the depths of your emotions, to understand that your sadness and anger are always valid. You need to believe that you will be better than your father, that you will not follow in his footsteps, and that you deserve to be loved just as much as anyone else.

Feeling sentimental over this doesn’t make you stupid or a fool, it just makes you human. It is okay to cry over it, to be sad over it, as long as you remember that one day – while things will never be perfect – it will certainly get better.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Max tells you with a smile, reaching for your hand to give it a comforting squeeze, and you believe him. For once in a very long time, you genuinely believe that everything is going to be okay. The impact your father has on you will always be there. You can never wipe away the hurt and awful things he has done to you, nor can you simply erase the simultaneous love and hatred you hold for him, but one day you will learn to move on and find closure, and you are going to be okay, just like Max said.

There is a knock on the door, and you can hear your name being called again, this time in the soft and squeaky voice of a little girl. “I’m here,” you answer, and peeking behind the gap in the door is Laura with a cheeky grin on her face. Kevin leads her inside your driver's room with an apologetic smile, “Hey, sorry… Laura says she wants to play with you and insists that I bring her here.”

You watch as Laura crawls up into the seat next to you and Max, looking at you with the brightest toothy little grin ever, and your lips begin pulling up into a huge smile as well. “Is it okay if she plays here for a while? I’ve got a team meeting in 5 and she never likes coming to those…” Kevin asks apologetically before relief floods his expression when you answer him, “It would be lovely to have a little playdate with Laura.”

“Alrighty, see you later little one,” Kevin leans down to place a kiss on his daughter’s head, reminding her to be a good kid when he is away for the meeting, and you smile at the sight. Not an envious one, or a reminiscent one, but one of contentment because you know that one day you will be able to receive and give such unconditional love to someone too.

Someday, it will be okay. You will be okay.

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #kevin magnussen x reader #f1 drivers x reader

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hyukalyptus · 1 year ago

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a coincidence — rockstar!yeonjun x fem!reader

cw. rockstar!yeonjun x audiencemember!reader, chubby!reader implied, fem!reader, mentions of alcohol, oral (m. receiving), sex (condoms mentioned <3), roleplaying(?), orgasm denial, lmk if there's more. notes. this is part of @napofamoon's growing pain rock band!au collaboration :D thank you @nightlyawnzz for being a beta reader :3 and thank you angie for that one line of dialogue (didn't know if you wanted to like not be tagged lol), not super well edited, smut under cut <3 wc. 2.8K

Who is that? Yeonjun’s seen hundreds—thousands—of pretty girls at his concerts. But no one’s ever truly made an impression. Every once in a while, there’d be one that barely stuck out from the crowd, but nothing ever stuck. After a while, the crowds started getting blurry. Has performing become a bit boring for him? Maybe. There wasn’t a spark anymore. No reason to perform.

But you…you immediately caught his eye. A bright star in a sea of dull strangers—smiling, drinking, dancing to the music, having a blast. You looked fun, exciting, flirty. And he wanted—needed—to get to know you. But first, he needed to get your attention.

He’s cool, casual with his bass; he’s a natural. The way he moves with the music, pouty lips singing under his breath along with the frontman, the stage lights sparkling in his eyes—it didn’t take much focus for him to nail every song.

So he decided to have a bit of fun tonight. Moving a bit more, putting on a bit more of a show than usual, getting closer to the edge of the stage without being too obvious. All to get your attention. So why won’t you look at him? Just a bit closer and maybe…

Bingo.

You’ve locked eyes and there’s that something he’s been looking for. Something he’s been looking for for a while. That spark. That reason to put on a bit of a show.

And you could tell. You were just as into it as he was.

Watching his every move—flirting without crossing a line, giving him seductive looks, dancing in his direction. It was fun. It was thrilling. That unspoken desire between two strangers—and one of them admires the other before they’ve even met? How scandalous, hm? The tension grew and grew until—

“Thank you everyone; good night!”

But…what do you do now? How could he find you later? Oh, why didn’t he slip the security guard his number to give to you? Where are you? No, no, no, don’t leave.

There was nothing he could do; the lights were dim, the curtain was drawn, the crowd was spilling out the front door. You never left his mind, though. Not when he put his bass in its case, not when he zipped his hoodie up to leave, not when he plopped down on his hotel bed, never.

Desperately trying to get you off his mind, he heads down to the hotel bar. Oh, how pathetic is this? A world-famous rock star sitting alone at a hotel’s bar sipping a whiskey feeling sorry for himself? Over what? Some girl?

Please don’t sit there…he begs silently watching a strange figure take the seat in the bar stool next to him. Despite the need for alone time, he couldn’t help but glance over at the sound of your—

“Just a vodka soda, please.”

Oh, shit. It’s you. What does he do? Why are his hands so sweaty? When did he turn into such a loser? Getting this worked up over a girl. He needs to get your attention again, but he doesn't want to come off too pushy. You’re here alone too and maybe you wanna keep it that way.

Fuck it.

He clears his throat, cooly-maybe-not-so-cooly saying, “I saw you in the audience.” Just as you planned. Well, sort of. You didn’t mean to run into him. Glancing across the room at the hotel you were staying in to see that hot bassist sitting alone at the bar was pure luck.

But you need to keep it cool. Don’t be too…weird. Just a simple glance and gentle nod is enough.

“Did you enjoy the show?” He asks, knowing your answer. He could see your desire just as much as you could see his, but you weren’t gonna give in just yet. You nod again, adding a quiet hum. “Are you from around here or…?” Should he move a bit closer? Sure. Should he brush your knee with his fingertips? Why not? Oh, they give you goosebumps. You don’t pull away or even flinch. You’re welcoming this.

“No, I’m here on business. That’s why I’m, you know, at a hotel right now.”

“Right.” He pauses, like he has to think of the next thing to say, “I’m Yeonjun, by the way. But you already knew that.”

“And what makes you think that?”

“No reason,” he snarks. “Just that you bought a ticket to my show.”

“As if,” you roll your eyes. “I was bored and the show was right down the street.” Lie. All of this was lies. Of course you were a fan. Both of you knew that.

“So you got front-row seats from a scalper then?”

Now it’s time for some fun. Turning toward him, you introduce yourself, face inching closer and closer, his hand sneaking up higher on your thigh, your heartbeat getting faster with each millimeter. You maintain your confidence best you know how, but you must admit, he’s intimidating. Is it that way he unapologetically stares at your body? The way he’s flirting with a fan after a show? The way his lips look like they’d perfectly wrap around your—

“Do you always find fans to flirt with after the show?”

“No. Never,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “But you’re so…” he tucks some fallen hair behind your ear, eyes roaming your face, “gorgeous. I haven’t stopped thinking about you in the audience. Then boom, here you are at my hotel’s bar. Must be fate.”

“Or a coincidence.”

Both resorting to a shrug, there’s tension in the air like you’ve never felt. It’s excruciating. He’s leaning closer to you, oh, what was he about to say?

“I saw you watching me,” he whispers right against your ear—close enough to feel his breath. Fuck, he’s good. This is gonna be fun. And you’re gonna be a brat. At least for a little.

“I was watching all five of you,” you say, adding an annoying eye roll for good measure.

“Nope,” he says, sitting back and smiling like he knows a secret of yours. Which he may. “Only me.”

“So what if I was?” You narrow your eyes at him. You weren’t gonna break eye contact now. You can’t. But he doesn’t expect you to keep it. He expects you to cower and blush like everyone always does. But you don’t. And he likes that. “I’m waiting.”

“Makes me wonder what else you wanna watch me do is all.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno,” he chuckles. “You tell me. You were the one that couldn’t stop staring at me.”

That jerk. That stupid fucking jerk. Looking at him with heavy-lidded eyes, you glance down at his lips—side note: jesus fucking christ they look delicious but that’s beside the point right now—and lean in as close as you can without touching him. Parting his own lips, he tilts his head just barely and closes his eyes.

“Aw, you’re so cute.” You giggle. “You thought I was gonna kiss you?”

While you’re watching him retreat, defeated at his own game, he runs his fingers through his messy black hair.

“So you think I’m cute?”

Let’s give in now. “No.” You stand, taking a deep breath and walk behind him, sliding your hands down his chest, bending to meet his ear to whisper, “I think you’re fucking sexy.”

Goosebumps—but this time, they’re on him. Has anyone ever done this to him before? Let’s take it one step further. You bite his ear lobe gently and he sighs, your name falling out of his lips breathlessly.

“Hm?”

“Come upstairs with me,” he whispers.

Another step further. Sliding your hand up the back of his neck, you grip some of his hair, tugging it harshly, his eyes widening as he hisses.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Will you come upstairs with me? Please.”

Turning him around in his barstool, you stand between his legs, his eyes roaming up and down your body. “I thought you’d never ask.”

It was all a blur as he took you upstairs—heading straight for the elevator, pushing you against the wall to finally crash his lips into yours, hands roaming your body trying to decide what part of it to grab onto. The ding of the elevator snaps you out of it before stumbling down the hallway to his room.

When he finally gets the door open and the door slams behind you, he’s gentler, like he wants to take his time with you. But you don’t. You drag him toward the bed and push him to the mattress to straddle his hips. Wrapping his hands around your waist, his hands slip under the skirt of your dress to squeeze and squeeze and squeeze.

Lifting off him, you lift your dress over your head as he eyes your pretty white lace lingerie while he smirks to himself. Fuck, he looks hot when he bites his lip like that. And, god, you need his shirt off. Tugging at it, you rock your hips back and forth to shimmy it off while he stays laying down. Hands on bodies, breath heavy, lips on each other’s…god, this was fun.

He flips you to your back, pressing his lips to your chest, trailing kisses over your collarbone. Pushing your face to the side to access your neck, he covers it in sloppy, wet kisses.

Since when was your bra so uncomfortable? And since when was it such a cock blocker? With that out of the way, his lips find your nipples, sucking harshly, but licking them to soothe the stings. Tugging at the waistband of his joggers, you can’t stop begging him to fuck you.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he says, mimicking your tone from earlier.

“Please, Yeonjun—” you gasp at the feeling of his finger gliding over your clit slowly—slower than anyone’s ever touched you before. But it’s amazing. “Will you please fuck me?”

“Not yet,” he whispers. Standing to pull his pants and boxers down in one motion, he looks over your body. Oh, what was he gonna do with you and everything your body has to offer? Put you on your knees so he can cum all over your full tits? Fuck you from behind so he can see your ass jiggle? Fuck you in missionary so he can see your tits and tummy jiggle while he squeezes your thighs? There’s too many options to pick from.

But before he can make the decision, you crawl over to the foot of the bed, making a big show of it before reaching for his hips. Wrapping your hands around his hips to squeeze his ass, you pull him closer, kissing the tip of his cock. You were going to be the death of him. But you haven’t even tasted him yet. Glancing up at him through your eyelashes, you finally sink down on him completely.

And fuck do you feel good.

Fingers fumbling through your hair as he tries to steady himself, his head falls back to let out the most beautiful moan you’ve ever heard from a man. He whispers your name.

“What?” You look at him, your lips forming a pout while you wait for an answer. He responds with a simple eyebrow raise. “You said my name,” you say matter-of-factly. “What is it?”

“Don’t tease me.”

“What are you gonna do about it?”

Hooking his hands behind your knees, he pulls to flip you on your back while you let out a yelp. He boxes you in with his elbows, dragging his teeth over one of your nipples while you grip his hair, back arching to meet his mouth. He covers you in kisses. You don’t think anyone’s ever kissed you this much. Nothing will ever be enough after this.

As he makes his way down, your legs fall over his shoulders, showering your thick thighs with kisses. Using his mouth to put the smallest amount of pressure on your clit over your thong, he makes you whine and involuntarily grind against his chin, trying to relieve any tension. But he’s not giving in either. Backing away, he chuckles at you. That jerk. Why does he have to be such a jerk?

“Don’t do that to me,” you say. Eyes dark, he takes the waistband of your thong between his teeth, pulling them down slowly, letting them drag over your skin. Kneeling between your thighs, he keeps that spine-tingling eye contact as he rubs his tip over your center. That sends a jolt through your body, letting your brain finally catch up with your body.

“Will you wear a condom?”

Nodding, he quickly rustles through his suitcase messily splayed across the floor. Ripping the condom open with his teeth, he starts to roll it down himself, which is a glorious sight. And he can tell the effect it has on you. You smirk, glancing up at his eyes—eyes that are sparkling back at you.

“Eyes on my cock, baby.”

Fine by you. Sliding it down so slowly, you’re entranced. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

One hand pressing on your hip, the other lining himself up with your pussy, he pushes himself inside you, your eyes rolling back and he groans in your ear. Short shallow breaths grace your skin as he thrusts fast and hard, just like you wanted.

Bodies rocking together, he stares at your tits bouncing with his movements. Your nails start dragging down his back, but he quickly pulls out to turn you over, lifting you by your hips to bring you on all fours, your ass on full display. He spanks you, hard enough that your cheek will be pink tomorrow morning.

Pressing on your lower back to deepen the arch, he thrusts into you again. With your face squished against the mattress, his hands dig into the fat of your hips to hold you in place. The fire in your stomach roars, legs trembling, muscles weak. He yanks you up by your hair—you were hoping he’d do that—to press your back to his chest, letting you feel how heavy he's breathing.

“Don’t cum yet,” he says.

“Who said I was close?”

That evil laugh makes your eyes roll. “I can feel it.” Well, you can’t really argue with that. He was right. “Don’t.”

“You really like telling me what to do, huh?”

He snakes his hand in front of you to circle your clit, turning your whines to whimpers, desperately fighting the urge to let yourself go. What would happen if you did let yourself cum, though? It might be exciting to find out, hm? But being told what to do and when is just as exciting.

Grabbing his arm, your nails dig into his skin. He releases your hair, pushing you to the mattress roughly, face pressed against the mattress. Fists full of bed sheets, his hands spread across your ass, skin spilling through his fingers.

It’s getting increasingly difficult to hold it together—the only thing letting you is knowing how good you must be making him feel if he’s making noises like that.

“Yeonjun,” you gasp, his speed increasing. “Please.” The way he grunts tells you he’s close too, but he doesn’t plan on holding back. Pull my hair again, pull my hair again, pull my hair again, you keep thinking to yourself. And, oh, did you say that out loud? Because he pulls your hair again, finding an even deeper spot inside if you, the feeling spreading to your toes.

“Please, Yeonjun—” you yelp. “Please let me cum.”

He groans again, your name falling out of his lips before adding, “Cum for me.”

Your loud whimpers are muffled by the pillow you’ve shoved your face into, the fire in your stomach roaring louder and louder until—

Fuck…

God, this is good. Your orgasm explodes inside you, fireworks going off in all directions, filling every nook and cranny of your body. Praising you through your orgasm, he encourages you to cum hard around him, reminding you of how good your pussy feels around his cock.

Your body relaxes, but his doesn’t. He thrusts deeper inside of you, desperate to reach his own climax.

“Fuck—” he grunts, spanking you again. He loves seeing you jiggle like that. Reaching in front of you, he massages your tits, squeezing to get a firm grip.

His breath hitches, his thrusts getting sloppy as he twitches inside you, groaning through his climax.

Collapsing on top of you, he catches his breath, chest rushing and falling against your back. Rolling off you to plop onto the mattress, he turns to look at your face while there’s a stillness in the air.

“...so you’re a fan now?”

“Haven’t I always been?”

Chuckling, his face turns to the ceiling, running his fingers through his hair, resting his arms above his head. As you make eye contact, both of you burst out laughing—

“I didn’t think you’d like the roleplaying thing as much as you did,” you giggle.

“Well, what can I say? It was hot,” he says. “Great idea, baby.” Tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, he smiles at you, kissing your forehead. “I love bringing you on tour with us.”

“I love it too.”

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steddiemicrofic · 29 days ago

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Steddie Microfic November 17th-30th Masterlist

This Magic Moment by @fkinkindagauche | Rated G | no cw

summer job by @steddieas-shegoes | Rated T | no cw | tags: different first meeting, pre-relationship, lifeguard Steve Harrington, lifeguard Eddie Munson, getting together implied

guard your heart by @katyawriteswhump | Rated G | cw: drug use | tags: idiots to lovers, no upside down au

yes, sir by @steddieas-shegoes | Rated E | cw: alcohol, mildly dubious consent in that eddie is drunk but it's definitely fine | tags: established relationship, rock star Eddie, bodyguard Steve, modern au, dom Steve, sub Eddie, mentions of edging, hint of a handjob

Night Watch by @adverbally | Rated T | no cw | tags: Wayne POV, post-S4 where Eddie doesn’t die, pre-Steddie relationship, hospital, recovery, allusions to post-traumatic nightmares

Love Him Loudly by @novacorpsrecruit | Rated G | no cw

Luck Guardian by @scoops-aboy86 | Rated M | cw: weight gain, belly kink | tags: chubby steve harrington, feeder eddie munson, post-canon by way of eddie munson lives, creative use of a D20

I've got you, sweetheart by @hawkinsbnbg | Rated G | no cw | tags: omegaverse, stranger to lovers, scent mates, omega steve, alpha eddie

you could be bad, but i wanna find out by @thefreakandthehair | Rated M | no cw | tags: goalie!Steve Harrington, fan!Eddie Munson, alternate universe- no upside down, different first meeting, meet ugly (but it's still cute), bars, alcohol mention, description of sexual activity, humor, big mouth!Eddie Munson, long-suffering besties Gareth and Jeff

this man is more to me than you can dream by @onirislanding | Rated T | cw: mentions of violence and death, smoking

Vocation by @berenwrites | Rated G | no cw | tags: Fluff, Upside Down aftermath, future, corroded coffin, famous Eddie

of ogres and omegas by @katyawriteswhump | Rated E | cw: omegaverse, fingering, slick, sexual content, slightly under negotiated but they're totally into it | tags: fairytale omegaverse, alpha Eddie Munson, Omega Steve Harrington, happy ever after

untitled by @hotluncheddie | Rated E | no cw | tags: chubby Steve Harrington, dom/sub dynamic, belly kink, belly button play

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficnovember #stranger things #masterlist #steddie events

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moonxytcn · 6 months ago

Note

Hey could you please do Insecure chubby x Leighton please and thank you

I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.

Leighton Murray x fem!reader

summary – Leighton always has a way of making you feel loved despite your insecurities

warnings – very mild angst (It's more just insecurity about your body), fluffy

a/n – Thanks for the request anon!! I like writing to Leighton because she is one of my favorite blonde, preppy and gay, in love with her since she appeared in the series.

English is not my first language so there may be some errors.

˗ˋˏ masterlist

–––

You stare at your reflection in the mirror, a mix of emotions bubbling within you. The dress you chose hugs your curves in a way that feels both liberating and daunting. You had spent hours contemplating whether to wear it, questioning if it was too tight, too revealing, too much. The voices of self-doubt were loud, but Leighton’s encouraging words echoed louder.

Leighton Murray. Your girlfriend, your rock, your safe space. She has been there through the highs and lows, always finding a way to make you feel like the most beautiful person in the world. But tonight, as you prepare for a date night that she planned so meticulously, the insecurities creep in again. You can’t help but wonder what she sees in you.

You run your hands down the sides of your dress, smoothing the fabric. "Does this really look okay?" You whisper to yourself, not fully convinced by your reflection.

Just then, there's a knock on the door. "Are you ready?" Leighton's voice is light, teasing.

Taking a deep breath, you open the door to find her standing there, a vision of effortless elegance. Her eyes light up the moment she sees you, and her smile could outshine the stars. "Wow." She breathes, stepping closer. "You look absolutely stunning."

You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks. "You always say that."

"And I always mean it." She replies, wrapping her arms around you. Her touch is gentle, reassuring. "I love this dress on you."

You glance down, fiddling with the hem. "I wasn't sure if it was too...much."

Leighton tilts your chin up, making you look into her eyes. "It’s perfect. You’re perfect." She kisses you softly, as if to seal her words with affection. "Now, come on. I have a surprise planned."

She takes your hand and leads you out. The evening air is cool and crisp, a welcome change from the stuffiness of your room. Leighton’s excitement is palpable, and it’s infectious. You find yourself smiling despite the nerves fluttering in your stomach.

As you walk, she keeps the conversation light, asking about your day and sharing little anecdotes from hers. You love the way she talks, her voice a soothing melody that calms your anxious thoughts.

Eventually, you reach your destination—a small, cozy restaurant nestled in a quiet corner of town. It’s beautifully lit with fairy lights and candles, creating an intimate, magical atmosphere. Leighton had reserved a private table, adorned with your favorite flowers.

"Leighton, this is...amazing." You say, touched by her thoughtfulness.

She pulls out a chair for you, her eyes twinkling with joy. "Only the best for my girl."

Dinner is a delightful affair. The food is delicious, but it's Leighton's company that makes it truly special. She talks animatedly, her laughter like music to your ears. She’s attentive, making sure you’re comfortable and enjoying yourself. The way she looks at you, with such genuine admiration and love, makes your heart swell.

As the evening progresses, the insecurities that had plagued you earlier begin to fade. You realize that Leighton sees you—the real you. She sees beyond the physical, appreciating every facet of your being. Her love is unwavering, and it fills you with a warmth that chases away the shadows of self-doubt.

After dinner, she takes you for a walk by the lake. The moonlight dances on the water, creating a serene and romantic backdrop. Leighton stops and turns to face you, her hands gently cupping your cheeks.

"I need you to know something." She says softly, her eyes locking with yours. "You are beautiful. Inside and out. Your body, your mind, your heart—they all make up the person I fell in love with. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you."

Tears well up in your eyes, a mix of gratitude and emotion. "Leighton, I...I struggle sometimes. But you make it better. You make me feel loved."

She kisses you tenderly, her lips conveying all the words she doesn’t say aloud. When she pulls back, she rests her forehead against yours. "And I always will. No matter what."

You lean into her, finding solace in her embrace. The world fades away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of love and understanding. With Leighton by your side, you feel like you can conquer anything—even your insecurities.

As you walk back home, hand in hand, you realize that while the journey to self-acceptance may be long and challenging, having someone like Leighton makes it a little easier. She is your anchor, your beacon of light, and with her, you feel truly beautiful.

Tonight, as you lay in bed with Leighton holding you close, you know that you are loved—for exactly who you are. And that makes all the difference in the world.

#moonxytcn requests #moonxytcn writes #wlw #lesbian #leighton murray #leighton murray x reader #leighton x reader #leighton murray x fem!reader #the sex lives of college girls #leighton murray x you

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frenchkisstheabyss · 2 years ago

Text

♡ ａｔｏｍｉｃｂｌｏｎｄｅ♡

♡ Pairing: boyfriend!mingi x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Summary: Comforting your boyfriend after he gets a new look gets you into trouble but the good kind.

♡ Genre: smut w/ a dash of fluff

♡ Word Count: 1.4kish

♡ Warnings: oral sex (m & f receiving), unprotected sex (ya'll know better), creampie, a lil spanking, scratching, nibbling, some rough play (nothing major), pet names (baby, my girl, etc).

♡ A/N: Mingi's wrecking me and I am not okay. Just FYI.

@anyamaris save me from myself

“You hate it” Mingi sighs, staring at his choppy blonde hair in the mirror. It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision to take a pair of scissors to his hair. He had no plan going into it. Only that he needed to do something…anything…different to get out of his own head. But you can see it all over his face that he's second-guessing it. Stepping into the bathroom, you dodge the clumps of fire-red hair scattered across the tiles, to get a closer look at your boyfriend’s new hair. “I love it” you smile sweetly, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet.

Mingi watches you in the mirror for a moment, skeptical. He tousles his hair, trying and failing to style it. “It’s okay. You don’t have to lie.” You grab his arm, turning him to face you. “Hey, look at me,” you say, momentarily losing yourself in those gorgeous pools of sable he calls eyes, “When have I ever lied to you?” Mingi cracks a faint smile, his lips pressed together to keep him from full-on cheesing. “Never.” You play with his hair a bit, gathering them into small spikes. “Exactly. I think it looks pretty hot. I’d definitely throw my panties at you.”

Your comment gets a laugh out of him precisely as you intended. All you ever want to do is see that adorable smile of his. It’s your favorite thing in the world. Sometimes Mingi gets down on himself, wondering if he is, in fact, good enough in one way or another. When you feel that way, doubt weighing heavy on your shoulders, he makes sure to remind you how special you are. “Yesterday, today, and tomorrow” he likes to say. A small reminder that you were, are, and always will be perfect in his eyes.

Pinching his cheeks, you plant a quick kiss on his peachy lips. “Yesterday, today, and tomorrow, remember?” Mingi nods, feeling all of the blood rush to his cheeks. He turns back to the sink, rubbing his cheeks to chase that rosy hue away. “Anyway…” he mumbles, shifting his focus to cleaning up his mess. “Anyway?” you scoff, rolling your eyes, “I’m glad we could have such a touching conversation. I have to get started on dinner. I’m out of here.” You walk off with your arms folded across your chest and your nose in the air. As fake offended as a girl could ever be.

You make it a few steps down the hall before Mingi’s behind you, his arms around your chubby figure as he trails kisses along your neck. “What was that you were saying about throwing your panties at me?” You giggle, your body wriggling against his, “That’s what you got out of what I said? Really?” You never wear pants around the house, a habit he’s grateful for when he easily squeezes your fluffy thighs. It tickles enough that you twist away from him, stumbling backward. “Mingi…I have things to do!” He raises an eyebrow at you, taking one step forward for each one you take back.

“So do I.” “Aah!” you squeal, being pulled into an intoxicating kiss. Even with your eyes closed, paralyzed by the artful way his tongue dances with yours, you’re seeing stars. Holding you firmly by the hips, he guides you into the bedroom without even looking. Your shirt’s being pulled up over your head before you make it through the doorway with his following right behind. When he gets like this he has a one-track mind. Nothing else matters. He only wants one thing and it’s you. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, you run a hand across his lean chest, the other palming his thick bulge through those godforsaken gray sweatpants.

An invention by the devil if there ever was one. Mingi’s knees nearly buckle from the unexpected friction. Each time you brush your palm against him he gets harder and the warmth between your legs intensifies. By the time his sweatpants are at his ankles, his leaking tip on your tongue, he’s throbbing. Placing your tongue on the underside of his head, you lick upward, collecting his precum on your tongue. Mingi pets your cheek, watching intently as you take him into your mouth, your warm, tight lips hugging his length with no room to spare. “So…fucking…beautiful,” he says, each word broken by the flutter of your cheeks.

There’s something about feeling the pulsing veins of his cock through your cheek, your head rocking back and forth, that he can never get enough of. You gag the tiniest bit when he hits the back of your throat, knowing how insane it drives him when you take more than you can handle. He can already sense that familiar feeling prickling in his stomach. Shit, why were you so good at this? Mingi grabs you by the neck, not too hard, just enough to rip himself from your mouth with a wet suctioning noise. You look up at him so innocently, proud of being able to push him to the brink that quickly.

“Bend over” he commands, your gentle giant replaced with something more domineering. You slide back on the bed, spreading your legs to expose your moisture. “Only if you say please.” Without a word, he reaches out to stroke your clit through the thin lace. Your breaths grow shallow when his fingers push the fabric to the side, sinking into you until his knuckles are flush against you. “Please” he whispers, rotating his wrist at just the right angle to have you pushing against him for more only to snatch his fingers away, “Pretty…pretty…please”. “Mmhmm” you whine, tossing your panties behind you and getting on all fours.

This view of you is so tempting. That juicy ass of yours sticking out. Your pussy so wet and desperate to take him. Taking a deep breath, he gets his head together. Not yet. A marvelous sting radiates through your body when he palms your ass with a slap, pushing you forward to lap at your entrance. “Mingi, fuck, yes” you’re moaning and he’s thrusting his tongue into you. He brings his fingers back up to massage between your petal-soft folds. Each time your body quivers, pert nipples dragging against the bed heightening your pleasure, it only deepens his hunger for you. The way he’s devouring you, drinking you down like a man who hasn’t had water in days, has you screaming every filthy word you know into the sheets.

Shit. Fuck. Goddamn it. Motherfucker. “Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me” you cry out, nearly throwing a tantrum, an explosion brewing in your core. You feel his husky laugh vibrate against you. “What was that?” he taunts, flipping you onto your back and climbing on top of you. You lick yourself off of his lips, dragging him into a kiss. “Fuck…me” you moan down his throat. He drives into you, your body immediately erupting into shivers as your walls clamp around him. Your world's shattering. Your heart's racing. Is he trying to kill me? The room’s spinning. You’re lightheaded. I might be dying. Worth it.

“Is my girl gonna cum for me?” he’s almost singing, nibbling at your bottom lip. Your nails digging into his back is as close to an answer as he’s gonna get and it’s enough for his motions to grow harsher. Your ears are ringing, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Such a mess you’re making creaming all over him like this. “That’s it, baby. Mmm” he coos, keeping his pace even as the overstimulation tears you apart, but that doesn’t last long. Soon his motor skills go to hell and he’s pouring into you, whispering praises into your cleavage.

Your bodies go limp together, your muscles as strong as a pot of boiled spaghetti. Mingi flops down beside you, struggling to catch his breath. Out of the corner of your eye, you see your panties near your head. You pick them up, throwing them on his head. “There, I threw my panties at you.” “I’ll…treasure…these…forever” he pants, twirling them around his finger. You cozy up to him, resting your head on his chest. “You know, that’d be a nice color on you.” “Hmm?” You gesture towards your panties, “The pink.” Mingi stares at them, weighing his options. “Pink” he sighs, kissing you on the bridge of your nose, “I like it.”

#mingi x reader #mingi x you #mingi x y/n #ateez x y/n #ateez x chubby reader #ateez x reader #ateez x you #chubby smut #plus size smut #chubby reader #plus size reader

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kedsandtubesocks · 9 months ago

Text

seasons of you (year 1 - winter)

Blacksmith!Frankie Morales x F!Reader

summary: your first winter in the valley brings in a frosty breeze & a push towards a certain blacksmith

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, stardew valley AU, reader is a farmer & has a family but no physical description, shy & sweet!Frankie, major pining & yearning, friends to something more, Frankie being previously married/a bit secretive about his life, gift exchange as love language, use of nickname (Frankie calls reader “little farmer” affectionately but it’s no reflection on reader’s size), blooming romance

word count: 5.6k

a/n: we’ve arrived to Frankie’s first piece in our Stardew AU series! We’re starting ‘in the middle of things’ & it’s meant to show how slow/shy our relationship with Frankie unfolds that romance just starts rolling now, plus I needed Frankie’s story to begin this way so something else can maybe unfold in year two but that’s all I’m gonna saying lol, again couldn’t have done this without @lowlights @swiftispunk @perotovar & @burntheedges you babes are my guiding stars always and I’m eternally grateful. And to you, if you’re reading this, thank you too lovely

Snow crunches under your boots and the chilly air seeping through your coat feels different. This would be your first serious winter storm and you already sense it approaching.

Yanking open the blacksmith’s door, a wave of heat washes over and you sigh.

Thankfully Frankie’s shop is still open and you almost cry relieved.

“Sorry!” You apologize walking further towards the counter. “I know there’s five minutes left before closing, but I just wanted to swing by!”

You wanted to pick up your newly forged ax before the storm hit and of course…

You wanted to see him.

Autumn kept you so busy with the farm and the fall festival. Now you hope to see more of your favorite blacksmith.

Waiting for him, your eyes wander.

The shop, with its eternal flame flickering, holds so much personality in its walls. A military pilot flag hangs by the front. The low radio plays a soft rock ballad. A bulletin board by the side of the counter is covered in various flyers and photos. Your favorite snapshots are one of a smiling little baby girl with sweet chubby cheeks you still haven’t gotten to ask Frankie who she is. There’s another photo of a group of men in military uniform.

It’s all so familiar and welcoming now.

With all the time in the mines, you wonder if maybe your pickaxe needs work too. Sliding your backpack off, you examine your trusty tool. Worn, but not weathered, the steel speaks of the craftsmanship and skill of the blacksmith who first forged it for you.

“You waiting for that tool to do something or should I leave you two alone?”

Frankie.

You fight back a smile when his warm deep teasing voice floats in.

Frankie wasn’t this easy going with you at first. He kept his distance, was polite but rather reserved.

“He’s just shy. He was like that when I first moved in too,” Leah, your closest friend here in the valley, reassured you one night at the saloon.

Now those beautiful gem eyes of Francisco Morales blaze straight at you as he walks towards the counter. Wearing his trademark baseball cap you playfully glare at him.

“I’m just checking to see if I need to complain to my blacksmith about my pickaxe needing work.” You quip back to him.

“Oh well shit, thank god that isn’t me.” Frankie smirks and you snort at his comment.

Frankie reminds you of the flames and steel he works with. Hard working and gently intense, yet a warmth gleams beneath him and fills an entire room just like the heat from his kilns.

“You just had to come in five minutes before I closed huh?” Frankie sighs dramatically.

You think he’s teasing but guilt still strikes you quick. Rambling out apologies, you scramble to explain how it’s mainly for precaution with the storm coming.

“I can always come back later!” You urge panicking.

He chuckles, cozily deep, and you sputter to a stop.

“I kid little farmer, I kid.”

That nickname he so casually gave to you just this month sparks an electric warmth through your entire body. You weakly laugh back, not able to fully process a reply.

Frankie’s gorgeous features, his striking nose, and his warm eyes disarm you in a way that makes your knees want to fold.

He moves around the tables and workbenches to pull out your ax.

“There it is!” You happily cheer.

Frankie even playfully shows off the sleek new tool like he’s a hostess in a daytime game show and you clap appreciatively while you laugh. It surprises you how silly sometimes Frankie can be.

Moving back to the counter he places your ax onto it. Then he leans towards you and begins explaining what upgrades he did.

You should be listening, but you can’t. Not with him leaning so close to you.

You’ve had an embarrassing crush on Frankie since the first moment Mayor Lewis introduced you to him. But with how busy you’ve been settling into the valley, along with how shy and reserved Frankie is, your feelings simply have stayed crystallizing inside you.

Frankie’s diligent eyes are so focused on his work and it’s beautiful. He’s beautiful. How dedicated he is to his craft, how quietly passionate he is, you yearn to fall into him more.

Suddenly Frankie’s eyes flicker up and catch you staring at him. In a panic your gaze snaps down to your tool.

“Yup! Looks like it can still cut a tree! Good job, Morales.” You lamely reply and Frankie snorts.

You do sincerely thank him and even offer to get him coffee for making him stay this late.

Frankie waves you off casually. “Maybe next time, besides you gotta get home before the storm hits.”

He’s right. There's still so much you need to do before the night comes. The clatter of Frankie slowly shutting everything down for the night draws you out of your thoughts.

“Do you need any help?” You offer.

“Nah, I’m good. Plus I don’t need your pretty hands getting burned.” Frankie replies back.

Although he’s not looking at you, his sly compliment sends a spark through your body.

Scrambling to put your ax in its guard and then shoving it into your backpack, you thank Frankie again and plan to quietly leave.

“Wait!” Frankie suddenly calls out and you freeze.

“Wait, don’t head out yet. Let me walk you home.”

The chill from outside settles into the shop now that the fires are extinguished. Yet, Frankie’s words ignite a dizzying heat.

“Oh no it’s okay!” You quickly stammer out as a nervous energy spikes in you.

You know he lives besides the forge. It wouldn’t make sense for him to walk you home then have to head the way back here.

The lights from the back area turn off and Frankie already walks out towards you with his coat on.

Your eyes go wide.

“Come on.” He gently nudges you with his kind eyes and your body moves on autopilot.

Once outside the cold galvanizes you. The sky above stretches out a misty blue while the edges of evening’s midnight coloring slowly creeps in.

The entire walk back to your farm Frankie stays in step with you. The conversation is light, easy, simple talk of how his and your day went. Your heart hammers in your chest. Yet, it’s comforting to have someone beside you. He’s warm and stays close.

Now your farm stretches before you a soft welcome home. Frankie, like the gentleman he is, walks you to the door.

Appreciative, you warmly thank him and wish him a safe trip back home.

“Thanks and stay warm, little farmer.” He grins softly, kind.

After a sweet wave goodbye to him, you walk off the porch to do all the final errands before you call it a night.

“Wait, what’re you doing?” Frankie suddenly calls out and curiosity colors his voice.

You glance back and see he hasn’t moved an inch.

With an eased sleepy smile you tell him you have a few last minute things you need to do. Like check on your winter seeds, double check the coop and then make sure the pipes are covered.

“You need help?” He warmly asks concerned and sincere.

“Oh no, I’m good I promise!” You reply. If you were braver you’d joke about not wanting to hurt his pretty hands.

“Besides, you need to get home.” You firmly tell him.

It’s getting darker, not completely night out, but you feel guilty for Frankie walking out here.

So with one final sigh you give him a warm goodbye.

“Stay warm tonight, Morales.”

Frankie quietly grins back and you hope he makes it home safe. Now your focus turns to the small field and you kneel before it.

Your winter seeds aren’t ready just yet. A dread fills you wondering if they will last against the storm.

“What are you growing?”

Frankie.

You didn’t even hear his footsteps in the snow. Whipping your head up you watch Frankie lean down to squat beside you.

“You should be walking home!” You cry out surprised.

Frankie shrugs sleepily. “It’s still early, I’ll be fine.”

You make an indignant squeak that makes him chuckle. Frankie’s eyes return to the little saplings still making their way through the snow, stubbornly growing against the harsh winter.

“They’re just winter seeds.” You sigh explaining how you’ve been growing them mainly for the experience and money.

“You think they’re gonna make it?” He asks gently.

You hope so.

You’re about to get up when Frankie quickly stands above with his hand outstretched to you. Even though your hands are gloved and so are his, a flutter runs through your chest when you place your hand in his. Frankie lifts you up effortlessly and you thank him, trying to steady yourself.

“Alright, what’s next?” Frankie asks light.

“For you to go home, Morales!” You laugh.

“Well you’re walking towards the barn so…kinda doesn’t seem like you’re finished yet.” Frankie comments almost shyly as he stays walking beside you.

“I’m not, but I don’t need your help. Go home!” You urge with a weak laugh. Frankie simply shrugs.

Sliding open the coop door, warmth begs you to come inside. You’re thankful for investing in those barn heaters.

“Your chickens are so big.” Frankie admires quietly in awe at the sleeping birds.

You smile while double checking the coop. Everything seems secure and safe for whatever might come this way tonight.

Stepping back outside the cold air seems still, quiet.

“You need to head home.” You tell him sternly, more worried than ever about his walk back to town.

“What’s next?” He asks with steeled resolve in his voice with no sign of leaving.

“Go home Francisco.” You firmly urge saying his full name.

But then you catch the sight of your pipes and sigh. So you almost did forget to wrap them.

“You didn't wrap your pipes?” He sounds a bit worried.

“I thought I did earlier…” Now you’re extra grateful for double checking.

When the first snow came at the start of winter, everyone reassured you the pipes would be fine. It was during harder snow storms, blizzards, that you needed to be careful. And now one approaches fast.

Frankie follows you inside the house to grab the necessary materials.

You can’t even process him being in your home for the first time. Simply on a mission you and him work together swiftly grabbing duck tape, a ratty old towel and head to the pipes.

It’s a swift team effort. In minutes, the pipes are securely wrapped safely and snug. You and him even share a triumphant high five.

“I wish I could invite you in for a thank you hot chocolate but you need to head home now.” You press.

Frankie, with his hands in his coat pockets, shrugs easily.

“I can stay for some thank you hot coco.” He offers.

“You gotta get home before the storm hits!” You shriek.

He waves you off casually. “It’s not coming till later tonight I’ll be fine. Now come on, don’t you wanna impress me with your hot chocolate skills?”

The smirk he gives you is so boyishly charming, almost like he’s daring you to invite him in.

This side of him is rare. You’ve only seen him get this smug and cocky at the saloon during a game of darts. Now your heart flutters fast in your chest.

“Come on,” He pouts. “Think of this as a way to help keep me warm on the walk back.”

He makes a point. The panic of wanting him to make it home safe before the storm, becomes smaller against the thought of spending more time with this man.

To have this man in your home.

So with a sigh of defeat you crack. Nudging your chin towards the door, you let Frankie in.

He’s in your home now. You need to stay composed.

You do have budding feelings for him, something that’s evolved out of the simple crush you had. And having him here in your home feels like dipping your toe into the deep end of a pool before jumping in. But you shake those thoughts away.

“Your place is nice.” Frankie admires and you thank him.

It’s still small, cozy now that you’re slowly allowing yourself to fully settle into the old bones of your grandpa’s home.

You want to say more until Frankie’s stomach suddenly growls.

Looking at him with surprised eyes, he stares back with beautiful eyes the size of the full moons.

“Shit.”

You laugh at his panicked response.

“You okay with maybe staying and having a quick dinner or should I really kick you out so you can head home?” You leave the option up to him, place the ball in his court.

Frankie with the most bashful smile slides off his coat.

“Dinner sounds great, little farmer.”

Your heart floats up and gets tangled in your throat, but it’s incredible.

You have the leftover lasagna Evelyn gave you as a thank you. But you also think of the soup recipe you've been dying to make for this weather.

So you leave it up to your guest for the night.

“Soup or leftover lasagna?” You offer light.

Frankie’s eyebrows scrunched together adorable, thinking hard at the two options, and you keep back a giggle.

“Will the soup take you a while to make?” He sounds sweetly concerned.

You swear it will take less than twenty minutes.

“Soup it is.” Frankie grins and it touches his eyes.

You begin grabbing the various ingredients and hate how hyper aware you feel even in your own house.

“So what can I help with?” Frankie now slides beside you and you almost squeak in surprise.

For someone who makes so much noise when he works, you find he’s rather quiet, swift.

“You’re my guest, so don’t worry. Plus you’ve helped enough!” You shoo him away and don’t miss the way he playfully glares at you.

Conversation again unfolds effortlessly with him. Frankie talks about how Mayor Lewis was in the shop earlier bragging about you hitting a full year in the valley.

“And here I thought everyone had stopped gossiping about me.” You snort lightly and start grabbing the bowls.

It will be a full year since you moved to your grandpa’s family farm. However, you wonder when the newness of you living here will subside.

“There’s… still some gossip of course. Small town after all.” Frankie admits shyly, like a school boy admitting a secret.

“But don’t worry, I don’t let any of ‘em talk bad about you in my shop.” Frankie, endearingly sweet, adds. His words knock you breathless and you almost drop the bowls.

“I knew I could count on you, Morales.” You manage to say with a grin.

Thankfully quick, the soup turns out comforting and delicious. Frankie even gushes about how incredible it is and your ego inflates wild.

“Thanks so much for dinner.” Frankie beams with the brightness of a sun.

“Please, I’m the one who’s thankful for all your help.” You earnestly tell him.

“Plus, it’s nice to have good company for dinner.” You add.

“I understand,” Frankie nods. “Gets a bit quiet around my place too. S’nice to change it up.”

A dual sided emotion settles in you. You ache understanding but also yearn to uncover more about this beautiful and sturdy man.

Before you can dive more into this discussion, Frankie’s phone rings wild and loud. Hastily scrambling to grab it, once he discovers who’s calling his face drops for a flicker of a moment.

“Sorry little farmer, but gotta excuse myself real quick is that alright?” His voice wavers.

Of course you earnestly reassure him and even direct him to the bathroom so he can talk in private. Frankie thanks you graciously then rushes out.

The house is quiet and he didn’t fully close the bathroom door fully. So his conversation leaks out enough for you to catch it.

“Wait, so you wannna just spring this on me now?” His voice slices out sharp. You’ve never heard Frankie sound this upset.

“Yes of course I’m gonna take her. But do you know how fucking shitty this is, Diana? Did you even think about my schedule before you fucking planned this trip?” He snaps.

You’ve also never heard him curse and it snaps your snipe straight. He sighs incredibly frustrated and angered, allowing whoever is on the phone to talk.

“Oh yeah, yeah, real fucking nice. Always make me the bad guy, right?”

Then Frankie starts speaking fast and low in Spanish you can’t catch what he’s saying. His tone however feels barbed and venomous.

So many questions bubble up. You believe you heard the name ‘Diana’ but this could be a conversation about anything.

Now thinking about it, even though you’ve been here almost a full year… you don’t know much about Frankie personally and that truth sinks your heart.

Silence now settles into your home until Frankie’s footsteps echo returning down the hall.

“I’m so sorry.” Frankie’s voice jolts the air but with a deep sadness. “I think I’m gonna have to save that cup of hot chocolate for another day.”

You kind of figured. Besides, you didn’t want him to get caught in the storm.

Outside the air has chilled, but thankfully the snow hasn’t begun.

“Had a great time tonight, thanks again for having me for.” An earnest grace radiates from his words.

You’re the one who’s truly thankful for him and you repeatedly tell him that.

Unfortunately a dread hits you. You want to make sure he makes it home. Your worry must be evident on your face because Frankie’s eyes cloud with caution.

“Wait, what’s wrong?”

When you tell him, a beautiful relief melts on Frankie’s face that you almost wish you could capture.

“Oh come on, that’s easy to fix, little farmer.”

He pulls out his phone and hands it to you.

He’s asking for your number.

Your heart beats so rapidly in your ears when you type your digits in.

“I’ll message you when I get home. Promise.” His warm voice is gilded with truth.

“Stay safe okay Frankie?” You tell him and his gorgeous eyes soften.

“Yeah, will do. And you stay safe too okay, little farmer? Stay warm and if you need anything.”

He holds his phone up and playfully wiggles it, a signal to say you should call him. You smile unbearably big and stay on the porch watching him leave until he vanishes from your sight.

You keep busy so you’re not simply staring at your phone waiting for his message. You clean up the remnants of dinner and feel comforted seeing two bowls in your sink.

Then your phone chimes and you scramble.

An message from an unknown number:

[Made it home safe!]

Another message flickers in.

[Also this is Frankie btw :)]

[Hi! 🪓]

The little ax emoji he adds makes you giggle giddy over how adorable this man can be.

You add his name and contact info into your phone. It warms you better than any sip of hot chocolate could.

- ❆ -

“Why do we even gotta celebrate ice?” One of the kids, you think Vincent, shouts that as you reach the edge of the forest and you snicker.

When you heard about the festival of ice, it simply sounded like a way for the town to break up the winter days. But it also reminded you how earnest and endearing the town can be.

Your heart jumps fast spotting Frankie bundled in his cozy jacket. He stands close to Willy and the two of them talk low, completely engaged with each other.

Whatever they’re discussing seems serious, evident in Frankie’s hard frown and Willy’s unusual somber expression. You decide not to interrupt them.

The fishing game is the highlight of the festival and to no shock the town’s head fisherman wins.

“It’s rigged.” You tease Willy and his hearty laugh is contagious.

“Don’t worry, next year you’ll be puttin’ me to shame.” Willy proudly declares.

When the event concludes for the day, Frankie already walks off without saying a word to you.

You try not to think about it too much.

When you’re about to head to bed, you find a message alert on your phone.

Frankie:

[Good try with the fishing tournament today! Sorry I didn’t get to talk to you today… have a lot of stuff going on. Also Willy wins every year. Think Lewis even adds fish into his crate to make sure it happens lol you’re the real winner in my book ]

You laugh as warmth balloons rapidly in your chest.

This message feels like a true victory for the day and it carries you for the rest of the week. Especially with how hard and brisk this final season of the year is.

Everyone warned you winter would be tough, and with your greenhouse still unfixed you’re realizing how true the warning is.

The days drag and bleed together. You throw yourself into the mines trying to gather more resources but that drains you fast. So you start doing a few errands around town to break up the days.

When Frankie requests a certain amount of wood you scramble quickly to complete the errand.

Inside the blacksmith shop, the familiar warmth greets you. However when Frankie walks out, a weariness looms over him. Heavy bangs hang around his eyes even as he smiles thin.

“Hey.” His voice is weary.

“Hey.” You reply back hesitantly. “I uh…have the wood you asked for.”

“Oh shit really?” He perks up. “Thanks, little farmer.”

You beam proud knowing you managed to at least brighten his day a little.

“Wait here, let me get your payment.”

You almost want to tell him that wasn’t necessary, but Frankie scrambles for his wallet.

“So, how ya been?” He asks.

“Good.” You partially lie. “How have you been?”

“Good.” He answers quickly, however you sense a lie buried.

You weakly smile. Exhausted, Frankie barely grins back and a pang pierces through you.

“Hey… Frankie.” You begin weakly. Frankie, midway pulling out your payment, freezes and blinks towards you.

“Yeah, little farmer what’s up?”

You know this might not mean much but you want to at least tell him.

“I just…” the words get stuck in your throat but with a deep inhale you unclog them.

“You just seem tired. I appreciate how hard you work but I just hope you get some rest when you can.” You tell him earnestly. “And… if there’s anything bothering you, I just wanted you to know you can always talk to me.”

You finish and hope you didn’t overstep.

Frankie’s gemstone eyes flicker stunned and then he sighs.

For the first time, Frankie slips his very notable baseball cap off and runs a hand over his hair.

His soft hat hair, the way you get this new glimpse of Frankie, lights something within your chest. You’ve never seen him without his cap. When he slips the baseball hat back on, his eyes seem cloudy and downcast.

“Thanks little farmer, appreciate it.” He mutters with another sigh. “It’s just stupid shit with my ex wife that’s taking longer than I expected to work out.”

Frankie’s words catapult you straight out of the atmosphere and your blood runs cold.

Ex wife.

Frankie was married before.

“I shouldn’t let it bother me and I don’t wanna be that type of ex husband, but holy shit she can be so damn difficult.” He shakes his head.

This feels like you’re meeting him again for the first time. But you’re grateful he’s sharing this with you.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with this and with her being difficult.” You reply with a soft comfort.

“You’re a good guy Frankie. I hope she doesn’t make you forget that.” You add, meaning those words.

You and him might have just recently become closer, but this entire year you’ve been living in Pelican Town Frankie’s been so sincerely kind. Always being patient with you and how awful you sometimes are to your poor tools. Even just seeing his soft shy smile when you run into him has brightened your day many times.

Frankie’s eyes finally flicker to you. They search your face like he’s waiting for you to react.

His mouth opens slightly.

Then he says your name, breathes it out, and it kickstarts a wild flutter in your heart.

But the door suddenly yanks open wildly behind you, cutting him off rapidly.

Robin, the town’s ever handy carpenter, arrives with a warm welcome drawing all the attention to her. The moment flutters away with her entrance. With a fast goodbye to Frankie and a swift warm greeting to Robin, you scramble fast to leave.

“Wait I didn’t-”

You don’t even wait to hear what Frankie has to say before you’re out of the door and back into the cold winter air. With so many thoughts buzzing in your head like angry hornets you simply head to the mines.

You stay there until the dead of night and drag your body back to farm. Even with how tired you are, your mind still thinks of a certain blacksmith.

The next morning there are two letters waiting for you. One is from Lewis reminding you of the upcoming Winter Star festival. The other is from Frankie.

Your heart jumps fast.

Little farmer,

Thanks for thinking of me and wanting to look out for me. Appreciate it a lot. Also you forgot your payment yesterday, silly! Don’t work yourself too hard either. So you get some rest too, alright?

Hope you swing by again and maybe soon we’ll have time for that hot chocolate :)

He not only sent you the payment for the errand but also a sweet pack of maple bars.

An overwhelming sweetness consumes you and you wish it never leaves.

The next day you plan to make Frankie a hot chocolate to bring him in the morning. But you realize you used the last remaining bits a few nights ago when you snuggled in for a cozy reading night. You mentally kick yourself but decide a green tea will hopefully be the best second option.

The minute Frankie’s shop opens you’re there the first one inside.

“You’re here early.” Frankie greets you with crinkled smiling eyes.

“Thought I’d stop by before I head to the mines.” You reply back brightly.

“It’s not hot cocoa, but I hope it’s a nice treat.” You offer lightly while you hand him the cozy to go drink.

“You got this for me? Thanks so much.” Your heart flutters hearing how warm his voice gets.

He takes a sip and his eye brows shoot up under the cover of his hat. Oh no. Does he not like it?

“Is this green tea?” His voice jumps so excited. “I love green tea!”

His brilliant smile creates a sun bursting light in your chest and you’re a bit grateful now you ran out of hot chocolate.

- ❆ -

Gus is a full five minutes into his handmade candy cane discussion and while you adore the endearing saloon owner, you can only take so much.

The feast of the evening star still warms and eases you though. The twinkling decorations, the absolute grand festive tree, the delicious food - it’s all a cozy blanket to soak into.

So you allow dear Gus to ramble about his candy canes while you sip on your warm drink.

“So who’s your secret gift recipient?”

Frankie’s soft but playful voice catches you off guard and you almost sputter out your drink.

You caught sight of him earlier but he was busy laughing with Pierre and Caroline. Then you got caught up in greeting everyone. Now you’re thankful to finally talk to him.

“You know that’s a secret.” You playfully glare at him.

The blacksmith simply shrugs but the amusement tugging his lips makes you smile.

A beautiful flush crawls over Frankie’s face. A kaleidoscopic joy sparkles in his deep eyes. He seems better and joy fills you.

“So does that mean you’re not gonna tell me what your winter star wish is?” He asks light.

You roll your eyes, but giddiness consumes you fast.

“You tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.” You surprisingly coyly reply.

Frankie snorts and his face crinkles up adorable.

“If I told ya, you probably wouldn’t even believe me.” He says casually then takes a sip of his drink.

“Wait,” you reply back. “Now you gotta tell me.”

Frankie doesn’t reply for a moment.

In the stillness of this moment, you notice how close he is. He’s leaning right beside you that you can smell the faint smoke of his work, and a crisp cologne you’ve never noticed before.

Then, you see it. His stunning amber gemstone eyes flicker to your lips.

It’s fast, happens in a breath of a moment. Your throat dries. You blame the warm food and festive atmosphere, but you ache to lean closer.

Before you can react or even wait for Frankie’s next move, Mayor Lewis claps loudly, breaking the spell.

“Time to exchange gifts everybody!” He declares.

Your body feels electric and immediately you try settling yourself down. You needed to give your gift.

Jodi, the sweet mother she is, deserves a nice sweet treat and you surprise her with a fully cooked chocolate cake. Her warm excited reaction is a treat itself.

Evelyn, ever the kind grandmother, gives you a pack of her delicious and warm cookies. You hug her tight thanking her.

The festival concludes with a gentle end and fizzles out softly. The clean up is eased, relaxed, and by the time it’s finished an unfortunately long yawn takes over you.

“Can I walk ya home, little farmer? You seem tired.”

Frankie again, so stealthy, suddenly appears out of thin air.

You squeak out a quick yes and his face melts soft.

“So a full year down huh? Hope we haven’t scared you off too badly.” Frankie offers hopeful.

It has been a year, feels like so much yet so little has been composed into your new life here in Pelican Town. You think of the dilapidated community center you’ve been keeping an eye on and working on.

You’ve taken this new journey slowly, at your own pace. You can almost hear your grandpa’s voice cheering you on saying just take it one step at a time.

“No way.” You laugh answering Frankie’s question. If anything, you’ve grown more attached to the valley than you ever imagined. You even tell Frankie this and his face lights up so beautifully it rivals the festival tree standing in the town plaza.

“Everything work out with your ex?” You ask gently and then sputter out an apology if you’ve overstepped.

Frankie chuckles. “Nah, I’m glad we can talk about it.”

That comforts you.

“And yeah, thankfully everything worked out.” Frankie grins sleepily. “I’m still really sorry you had to hear that.”

“No worries! And like what you just said, I’m glad I can be here for you. That’s what friends are for, remember?” You reassure him.

“Yeah, friends.” The way his voice hangs on the word friends gets tangled in your chest.

A quietness clouds the walk.

“So Gus tell you about homemade candy canes?” Until Frankie’s light voice breaks the silence and you laugh.

It might have been a slow start becoming friends with Frankie. But you’re glad, grateful, to finally arrive here.

Arriving at your farm you thank Frankie again.

“If it wasn’t so late I really would invite you in for that hot chocolate I’ve been promising you.” You sigh. You even begged Gus for a new pack just to be stocked up.

“Don’t worry about it. There will be another night, promise.” His words are gilded in a promise you want to treasure.

He suddenly says your name and now under the light of your porch, Frankie seems bashful as his eyes flicker around.

“I, uh, kind of have something for you.”

That takes you by surprise.

“Couldn’t give it to you earlier cause I know Mayor Lewis would’ve had my ass.” Frankie dryly snorts and then pulls out something concealed in the classic brown paper wrapping he uses at his shop.

“Happy feast of the winter star, little farmer.” He delicately hands it to you and your eyes feel as if they’re going to pop out any moment.

You cry in protest that he didn’t need to get you anything and guilt rushes in. You didn’t get him anything.

“Eh,” he shrugs. “No pasa nada.”

You’ve only caught small bits of him speaking Spanish before and now hearing him speak so casual sounds beautiful.

Unwrapping the surprise gift, you discover he got you an iridium bar and you inhale sharply.

You haven’t even been able to forge one yet. The most precious, coveted, type of metal bar and he just casually gave one to you right now.

“Francisco Morales, this is too much!” You shriek.

He laughs buoyantly and loud at your reaction.

“Trust me, it’s not. Besides, seen how hard you work. How much you do for me and the town. You deserve it.”

You don’t want to get emotional, but the tears clogging your throat say otherwise. Those tears and the bubbling emotions, gratitude and all other shades of thankfulness, overtake you. Before you can stop yourself you rush to Frankie and collide into him.

You hug him best as you can but realize what you’ve just done. You don’t even know if he’s okay with close contact like this.

Immediately Frankie wraps you in his arms and squeezes you back. He’s all encompassing, beautifully so.

Your mind, your thoughts, everything melt as you embrace him back.

“Thank you.” You earnestly tell him.

“Anytime.” Frankie whispers back.

You would never tell Frankie this… but your winter star wish came true because you couldn’t have wished for a better way to bid such a sweet farewell to this season here in the valley.

#oh I needed this today #here’s to more Stardew sweetness and magic!! if you read thank you so much blacksmith Frankie and I are giving you a stardrop #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #blacksmith!frankie morales #frankie morales x f!reader #seasons of you fic series #Frankie 🤎#pedrostories

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