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#it needs some more lighting in places but I'm pretty happy with it
o-lanterns · 2 months
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I built a minecraft museum to put all the paintings in!
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lymtw · 3 months
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It's three in the morning and the sound of your phone vibrating against the bed wakes you from your peaceful slumber. You lazily reach for the blinding light next to you, instantly knowing who's on the other end when you see the blue diamond emoji.
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"Hello..."
You were very much asleep, the raspiness in your voice making it that much more evident.
"Hey, sorry to wake you. Are you okay to talk for a bit?"
Satoru sounds like he's wide awake.
"Don't worry about it. What's up?"
You roll onto your side, your phone between your ear and your pillow. If you close your eyes for more than three seconds, you'll fall asleep again.
There's a slight pause between your response and his. Maybe the signal is bad or he didn't hear you.
"Is everything alright, Satoru?"
"I can't sleep."
He responds quickly this time. His tone didn't change. He didn't sound like he was in distress or too worried about the fact.
"Oh. Uh... have you tried drinking some chamomile tea? I personally don't like it, but when I need to rest, I suck it up and force myself to drink a cup."
He chuckles on the line. You always do what is best for you, even if it's not something you particularly enjoy.
"I think i'm just missing you a lot. Can I come over?"
It was strange to think he hadn't tried a tea remedy for his inability to sleep, but who were you to tell him that? Sleep deprivation does things to people.
"Right now? It's a little late, don't you think?"
You blink slowly, trying to adjust your blurry vision in the dark.
"I promise I won't fall asleep behind the wheel. I really want to see you. Please say yes."
You shut your eyes tightly and open them, your vision clearing up a little. When have you ever said 'no' to him? He always manages to change your mind when you do.
You sigh.
"Okay. You have the spare key to my apartment. I'm going back to sleep."
"I'll be there in like fifteen minutes. Love you, bye!"
You can hear the joy in his tone. He was genuinely so uncomfortable being alone with himself, that he had to wake you up so late at night to invade your space.
You knocked out again, once you hung up the phone. You were in such deep sleep that you didn't even notice when Satoru got to your apartment, or when he entered your room.
You did feel the bed weigh down when he laid down next to you, and your nose couldn't ignore his sweet, sweet scent.
"Baby," he whispered. "I'm here."
"Okay, now go to sleep," you mumble, your eyes still closed.
"Come here." He effortlessly turns you over and pulls you close, lifting your leg over his hip. His hand went up to your face, caressing your delicate, peaceful features before scattering kisses all over it, making sure to elongate the duration of the ones he leaves on your lips.
"Baby," he coos. "Come on, kiss me back."
He's like a dog—constantly begging for your attention. The thought makes you crack a smile, one Satoru does not miss.
"I know you're awake." He smiles, putting your leg back in place, before rolling over until he's on top you.
"Fucking hell, 'toru," you break, cracking up at how he had no remorse after crushing your body.
"There's my pretty baby. I'm so glad you're awake now."
"It's your fault," you grumble.
"If wanting to love you is a crime, then throw me in the slammer and toss the key." His nose dove into your neck, inhaling your scent deeply. "You're just so pretty, and you're all mine."
His affection was starting to evolve into more than lovey dovey kisses. His lips stung every time they met your delicate neck. His hands were roaming beneath your shirt, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
He loved the way your breathing quickened. It had him chasing more of the reactions associated with the hummed melodies.
"You are mine, right?" He knows the answer, but hearing you say it from time to time always makes him happy. His icy blue eyes can read your response before you even form it. He loves flustering you with eye contact tied with touches that burned with desire. To top it all off, he loves teasing you to see the way you scramble your response. "It's okay if you're not." He smirks, catching the way your eyes widened the slightest bit. "That's subject to change, isn't it?" He eggs on.
"I'm yours, Satoru. I belong to you," you say, making it crystal clear to him. "All yours." With this, he wouldn't doubt it again until the next time he wasn't with you.
"Yeah? You know, I would've done anything to hear those words from you." He leans down to kiss you, a spike of arousal hitting him when you bit his lip and sucked on it.
"Oh... you can't do that. I will put a baby in you." He has never said anything so seriously.
"I dare you to put a baby in me," you say, teasingly. You know he won't do it. He's not ready to share you yet.
"Keep acting like that and I will."
His lips ghost the column of your neck, trailing down your chest and lower to your abdomen. Your oversized gown of a t-shirt was the only thing standing between your body and his eyes. He pulled it up and off with a little help from you, tossing it aside after.
You were a little nervous about what was running through Satoru's head. He was devouring you with just his eyes and already you felt so flustered.
"God, don't ogle me like that, 'toru." You put your hands over your breasts—a makeshift bra to cover what he was staring at.
"Let me see you, baby," he pries, gently. He puts his hands on yours, not pulling them away as to not make you do anything you don't want to do. You end up moving your hands on your own, but turn away, unable to hold his gaze when he's watching you that way.
He cups your breasts, his thumbs swiping over your nipples, instantly making them pebble. He could feel the way you tried to press your thighs together, your relief disturbed by his body wedged between your legs. You tried your hardest to remain composed, but his fingers wouldn't let up. His eyes were glued to your face, watching intently until you let out a shaky breath.
"Mhm..." he hummed, grinning at your bashful attempt to stay quiet. "I know this is driving you crazy."
"Shut... up."
"If it isn't, why can I feel you rubbing up against my stomach."
You stop and your cunt throbs at the suddenness of it.
"Just let it out and we can move on. Let me hear that pretty little ah-"
"Fuck," you whimper, interrupting his instructive moan. Your back arches slightly off the mattress, your hands flying to grip his wrists, tightly.
"Good girl," he praises, his fingers letting off your tortured peaks. Little butterfly kisses are placed between your breasts, trailing down to your stomach, where he spends so much time eliciting giggles from you.
His fingers hook around the elastic band of your shorts and panties, pulling them both down in one swoop.
"I didn't know kissing turned you on so much," he says, eyeing the glossy remnants left in your underwear.
"'toru..." you whine, feeling somewhat embarrassed about the amount of arousal you feel at the simplest touches from him.
"What? I'm not complaining one bit. It's cute."
He slides two fingers between your folds, easily collecting your sweetness. You jolt at the sudden contact, looking at him with doe eyes.
"Oh, baby. I don't deprive you of my touch that much, do I?"
You shake your head as he continues to collect your nectar, his fingers dipping in slightly to fully coat his fingertips.
"My sensitive princess." He smiles, softly. "How many times do you wanna cum?"
He never asks you this, always just giving you everything he can give or what you can take. You go for a small number, not wanting to seem excessively needy.
"Maybe two times? Please?" Your voice sounds meek. Like you're asking him for the impossible.
Satoru just chuckles. "How 'bout we triple that number?"
"S-Satoru—fuck— just like that, like that!" Your head pushes back against the pillow, your hands beside your head, scrunching up the sheets.
This was the fourth orgasm. There was cum spotted over your inner thighs and sweat layered over both your bodies. He had driven you to insanity like he planned.
"More, baby?" He grunts, thrusting with his continuous pace.
"Please," you cry out, fresh tears welling in your eyes again.
Satoru loved watching the tears stream down your face because he got to lean down and kiss them away. He takes the opportunity to praise you— to tell you how good you're being for him.
Your back arched and you braced yourself for the intensity of your next orgasm. Satoru swallowed your moans, kissing you fervently through his own rush. His breathing stuttered when he felt your nails clawing at his back, and once again his cum spurted into you. His breathing was heavy through the nose due to his insistence of kissing you until he you patted him for air.
"Fuck," you muttered. You let out an out of breath laugh, your chest rising and falling quickly as you tried to even out your breathing.
"That's five, baby." He exhales sharply, leaning back and running a hand through his dampened locks. You look at him with twinkling eyes, a smirk being thrown in your direction from your admiration.
"Come here," you say, outstretching your arms towards him. Satoru immediately fills the vacancy, sighing when you rake your nails against the nape of his neck. "Want you to take your time with this last one."
He takes that as a green light to start up again. He guides his cock into you again, savoring the hum that leaves you when he stuffs you again and begins his slow rhythm.
"'toru?" Your voice sounded sultry to his ears.
"Hm?"
"This won't happen again. I hope you know that." You're trying your hardest not laugh or make any sounds that take from the meaning of what you're saying.
He had to raise his head to meet your gaze. Something in the way he looked at you made you believe that this would definitely happen again.
"I hope it does. I love having you under me."
"It's inconvenient. It's so late, 'toru. Why can't we fuck when i'm not trying to sleep? Like in the daytime, or earlier in the night?"
His lips trace your jawline, and you just know he's going for your neck. Satoru lives for pointing out the marks he left on you, the day after.
"Simple," he hums. "I want you to myself." His hips continue to rock into you at the same languid pace. "At night, nobody is gonna take you from me. You won't be distracted and I get all your attention to myself." He kisses your neck. "You're all mine at night. Nobody expects you to be awake."
You gasp when he hits a spot that aches deliciously.
"Come on, baby. Give it to me," he murmurs into your neck. You can feel the way his back ripples as he instinctively picks up the pace. He was overwhelming, thrusting deeper and deeper like he was trying to consume you. What was supposed to be a slow drive towards your final orgasm of the night, turned into him unapologetically using his stamina to lure everything he could out of you. He was almost too much with the way his mouth was ruthless towards your neck and the bruising grip he kept on your hips. You were rendered the smallest thing for him.
"Satoru," you moaned, mindlessly grabbing onto his shoulder blades.
"I know, sweetheart, I know." He kisses you, tenderly, heavily contrasting the savage speed of thrusts.
You whimpered into the lip lock. Your heels dug into the mattress and your toes curled from the intensity of the pleasure you felt. Your breathing became heavier but Satoru refused to unlink his lips from yours. He couldn't when the sounds you made tasted like heaven on his tongue. His own sounds mingled with yours, a harmony that let you know that you weren't the only one feeling good. He was rutting into you, a telltale sign that he was about to cum.
"Mmm..." he hums, before unlatching his lips from yours. He panted as he watched you unravel beneath him, the smallest pinch between your brows as you gushed on him again. The way your walls spasmed around him had him following right after, another load painting your walls.
He grinned at you devilishly, the expression followed by a bright and sunny, airy chuckle. He pulls out of you, and looks down to watch your combined fluids slowly ooze out of you.
"Damn, you really tried putting a baby in me." You sigh, heavily, immediately regaining his attention. "Why do we fuck like this every time?" You rub your eyes, your sleepiness coming back around.
"I'll get one in there someday." He rubs his palm over your stomach. "And also, it's always like that because I love the face you make when you cum and you love the process of giving me that sight." His eye conveyed a seductiveness to their expression that kept you in check.
Your face goes red, warm to the touch. "Shut up." You sit up and playfully shove him.
"I get to cover you in semipermanent kisses, too." His hand comes up to the side of your neck and his fingers trace the red smudges that will darken over time. You roll your eyes, yet still put your hand over his, bringing it to your lips to press a kiss to his knuckles.
"We should shower. It's almost five in the morning." You ignore the mischievous glint in his eyes and the way he's obviously trying to suppress a boyish grin.
"Carry me, please?"
Satoru chuckles, knowing exactly why you want him to carry you.
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violetrainbow412-blog · 10 months
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A fair payment [W. W.]
Willy Wonka x fem!reader
word count: 1.5k
People who might be interested: @strugglingwriterwattpad @cattail5 [Timothée masterlist]
some minor Wonka spoilers I guess! If you like it, tell me in the comments, that will make me happy :)
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“Can you mend it?” Willy asked, carefully holding his emerald green jacket that had the sleeve seam torn.
The boy had arrived a couple of weeks ago to turn the world of everyone present in the laundry upside down and, honestly, you were already beginning to enjoy his presence. You looked in the background at the blackboard that Noodle used at night to give him lessons in the hope that he would learn to read because, according to the girl's words, because of that he was almost eaten by a tiger. But in the man's words, what was important was the almost part. 
However, tonight he had asked you especially to go to his room, because he had a problem that he thought only you could solve.
“I think so, I just have to pass the needle a couple of times” you smiled.
Since your arrival Mrs. Scrubbit had used your sewing skills for her own benefit, because after all you had ended up in that mess trying to save a little to be able to buy the necessary materials to make a pretty dress that would be worth enough to advance in the business. Although, obviously, that had not been possible.
"Thank you! I'm afraid that's my only jacket."
“It will be ready in no time. I’ll just go to my room and come back, okay?” you said kindly, placing the garment in the boy's lap and earning a sweet smile from the aforementioned.
Just as Willy had his little briefcase for his chocolates, you had your own, full of threads, needles, and buttons, which you just had to grab from the floor to get everything you needed. When you arrived back you settled at the little table and he remained attentive to your every movement, pulling out a chair so he could observe what you were about to do.
“There was a boy on the ship who helped me with these things,” he began to tell you, keeping his curious nose on your shoulder “But I never thought about learning. You know, for when I had to be alone”
“Well, it's lucky you ended up here. We are a curious collection of workers,” you murmured ironically, referring to all the people gathered there against their will by the work of fate "What did you do on the ship?"
"Cook. Mostly sweet things, but I also know a couple of useful non-chocolate-related recipes. I was the chef,” he said, and you laughed at the exaggerated way he pronounced the last bit.
Willy began to tell you about some of the adventures he had had on the high seas and you listened attentively as the tip of the needle went in and out to join the fabric. It only took a few minutes to get his clothes looking like new, taking the liberty of repairing other places that also needed it.
“Put it on,” you asked, trying not to look at him too much when he did so or pay attention to the way the jacket fit him perfectly.
"It is perfect! You can't even tell it was torn, huh?” he said with emotion, feeling with his hands as much as he could. “How much do I owe you?”
“Oh, it's nothing.”
“I insist,” the man murmured. His curly hair bounced across his cheeks as he sat next to you and he lifted his small briefcase off the floor, opening it to reveal all the little bottles of ingredients. “Your talent for mine. It's a fair exchange."
You had to admit that the chocolates you had eaten were a complete delicacy, but a part of you didn't want to get used to that luxury or you knew that when Willy was gone you would miss his sweetness. In the literal and figurative sense.
Locked in that laundry it was impossible to meet many people your age and Noodle was your greatest company, as if he were a little sister to you. But now that he was there, there was a certain happiness in chatting with him, much more now that his ingenious mind had devised a way to get you out of there even if it was just for a few hours to see the light of day and get coins from the sale of the chocolates to free you of the enormous debt to Mrs. Scrubbit.
“What flavor do you want to try today? Do you want me to add some unicorn skin glitter? Rays of sunlight from a twilight on the seashore? Tears of an African crocodile?”
“Just give me something you think I need,” you replied softly.
Willy thought about it for a moment, because it wasn't the kind of answer he would have expected. What was he supposed to give you that night? A little hope? Happiness? Nostalgia? It was difficult to decide.
Through his bright eyes you watched him reflect and just a second later his hands began to work. You noticed there was a hint of mischief in his smile as he poured milk, chocolate, and the contents of a couple of jars into the processor, glancing at you from the corner of his eye from time to time.
“What are you going to do when we get out of here?” he asked suddenly, not neglecting the tasks.
“Working in a sewing workshop, I guess.”
“Why don't you open your own fashion house?” Willy suggested carefreely, as if it were a very easy thing to do, “You are a great dressmaker.”
“And you are a great dreamer”
“It's my best quality,” he exclaimed, almost offended. You waited a moment before answering.
“I just don't think it's that simple. It requires effort, time, and a lot of money…”
“We will have everything,” he interrupted you, with that optimism that characterized him. Suddenly he stopped what he was doing and one of his hands traveled to take yours. “When I open my factory, we will all be able to fulfill our dreams. And you are going to have a fashion house, I promise you.”
“You make a lot of promises,” you responded, blushing.
“And he planned to fulfill them all. I always do it"
Maybe there was something about the softness of his grip on your hand or perhaps the sparkle in his eyes that made you look away out of sheer nervousness. He seemed to be good and innocent, to the point that he probably didn't even realize how close he was to you or how inappropriate the position would be if Noodle ever walked in.
A tap interrupted your moment and then he abruptly pulled away, excited to show you the product he had just made. It was a pretty circular candy that was bright pink and seemed to be emanating smoke from the inside.
"What's that?"
“You'll have to try it to find out,” he murmured, as he extended the treat in your direction.
You had to admit that you were somewhat curious to discover what the man was offering you, so you took it between your fingers carefully, and even under his watchful gaze you took a bite.
At first it tasted like ordinary chocolate, but then it took on a strange tone, which made you feel a certain warmth in your chest that spread to your cheeks. It was a most pleasant feeling, like bubbly joy combined with the embarrassment of a hug.
You thought for a moment about what flavor that could be, without any success, until after a few seconds you realized that it wasn’t a flavor in itself, but a feeling, an experience... Was it love that Willy had given you?
“How does it taste?”
“Yummy,” you responded, covering your mouth so he wouldn’t see the wet chocolate on your tongue, but also to hide your smile “Delicious, actually. What does it contain?”
“A special and secret ingredient”
"Oh, come on! Aren’t you going to tell me?”
“I just want to know if I got it right,” he murmured and you frowned slightly, not understanding him “About what you asked for. Did I give you something you needed?”
You had to bite your lip to keep from smiling again, your cheeks feeling hot from the simple fact that he was looking at you. You thought that this could even be a love potion that you had consumed without thinking about it, just because he was the one who was offering it to you.
“We could say yes”
“We're even, then,” he exclaimed as he waved the sleeve of his jacket and you nodded in amusement, eating the rest of the chocolate he had made for you.
A yawn leaving your lips made you aware of how exhausted you were and although you didn't love the idea, you knew it was time to leave.
“It's late, I should go to sleep before we wake anyone up.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Willy said quickly, getting up from his seat to accompany you to the exit. “I'll see you tomorrow.”
“Rest,” you said kindly, and, gathering courage, you leaned forward a little to say goodbye with a hug that he gladly returned.
As you walked down the hall to your shabby, damp room, you thought that it probably wouldn't have even taken a love potion to fall for the charms of the pleasant chocolatier. You just needed one of his smiles.
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frmisnow · 1 month
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ONCE AGAIN, MILAN ! - (nsfw)
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summary. what happens when you and jungkook find yourselves once again in milan, this time with no business attached — well a hol' lotta sex for sure!
notes. guysss i changed my mind! there will be a fifth chapter because there is something that i want them to do- a refrence to chp. 2 + they need to get lil cheonsa duh?? ✶𝄞 if y'all are currently reading this, i'm probs already on vacation! so it'll take a minute, regardless, i hope everybody enjoys!!
warnings/includes. non idol! ceo! jungkook x f! employee! reader, smut described/implied multiple times!! (morning sex, very slight voyeurism / heavy flirting in a boutique, NASTY dirty talk) , drabble-ish (idk i just want them to be happy), cheonsa mention (we cheered)
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the morning had begun in the best way possible. the bright italian sun on your face, the hotel sheets lightly crumpled, well- and jungkook.
jungkook who had woken you up with gentle kisses starting from your face, moving to your shoulder, all the way to your tits. kissed your sore little thighs too, because "they deserved it" after all the things they've gone through - sure.
he made love to you. moaned how beautiful you were along with some other sweet dirty nothings.
it was the kind of sex that made you feel cherished, worshipped even, as if all of his love was burried solely in his tip and he poured all of it into you, when you both came.
after spending what felt like hours wrapped up in each other, you had finally left the bed, your body still tingling from the morning’s activities. the first spot was a cat café, jungkook had read about it somewhere, thinking of you.
you both had spent a few hours in there, sipping on your respective lattes, playing with the little cats while their tiny paws brush against your legs. jungkook had his polaroid camera out at all times, clicking away.
showed the photos to you, told you how cute you looked, how the kitten in your lap looked just like you. how you both should get little cheonsa just like that.
closely after, you both took your time strolling through the streets, hands intertwined, ending with him pushing you into a high-end boutique. you smiled at his eagerness, it wasn't the first time he spend that black card of his on you.
jungkook handed you a dress, that reminded more of a whisper of fabric rather then a real garment, leaving little to the imagination. but you instantly nodded, that's what you liked about being with him; you didn't feel shy, there was no reason to. not with every single thing jungkook has said about your body this far.
the fitting rooms were large, they felt like rooms by themselves. jungkook sat outside patentily, tapping his legs. when you walked out you could clearly see him trying his absolute best not to reach out his hands, his pupils widening ever so slightly, taking a deep breath to compose himself, "turn around, angel, for me."
you did as he said when done, walking over to take a seat on his thigh while his fingers immediately moved to stroke your thighs, mumbling how pretty you were.
the way you were sitting, so close to him, he could make out your pretty panties peeking under the dress. black lace, with little bows he had gifted to you when you visited that lingerie place a few days ago, thinking of you in that store didn't make his growing buldge any better.
and you most certaintly made it even worse by whispering into his ear, how much you needed him and how wet you've been ever since this morning.
he bit his lip, your body was so painfully close and your skirt only rode up, gently pinching your thigh almost as a light warning, "remember where we are"
following you made a little pout, but mumbled a reluctant 'fine' anyway, making your way back into the fitting room.
next stop was a restaurant, you hadn't even noticed that it had gotten late by this time but jungkook took care of it, as always. how he managed to get a reservation at this place, you didn't quite know but you certaintly weren't complaining. he had pulled your leg over his some time ago, running his hands over the skin, the action innoccent in a way caring, like he was so sorry that you had to walk this whole day even though he had spoiled you shamelessly.
his fingers drew patterns and tiny circles over the skin, his face glowing from what was left of the sun through the large windows.
"i'm so happy" you smile, your fingers moving through his hair lightly.
jungkook's lips curl into a soft smile, just like yours, leaning into your touch, "i'm happy too, angel" his voice low and affectionate, "everday"
the evening went exeptionelly well, he talked you stupid about some of the other things he wanted to do, didn't mention business even once.
you both walked back to the hotel, you liked the city at night and had asked him to walk instead of taking a taxi. he didn't let go of your hand, swinging.
he walked back to the hotel with you, holding your hand tightly, it had been your wish to stroll back, you liked the city at night. it all reminded you of that night but it was different this time, it felt good not having wine in your system.
for once you felt like you actually could love jungkook, without alcohol, without your job, any other factor in your way. you could fuck him freely without having to blame the alcohol for it, after.
love is lust. that's why he pounds you into the large matress, tells you how bad you've been, how greedy you were.
he asked questions, dirty ones, you were way to brain fucked to understand dare to say even answer.
asks how much you'd like it, him filling you up everywhere, in the bathrooms, around his apartment, in the elevator, during your shifts at work, how he'd make you walk around feeling full, feeling dripping and sticky under your skirt.
describes how he'd call you into his office just so he could take you nicely on his desk. have you walk out later, nod to all your colleagues, like a good girl.
you barerly hear him and the words make you moan out are vile things that people only say when they are about to come. how you wanted to marry him, have him around you all times, how much you wanted him every minute.
you thought about how small you'd want the wedding to be, you, him and little kitten cheonsa. and you moan again, like a porn star.
and he responds, gripping your hips tighter, "i'd marry you tomorrow if you asked me to, hell i'd make a baby with you right this second if you wanted."
he let out a grunted string of 'please's though you weren't even sure what he was begging you for. your brain felt so incredibly mushy.
few seconds later, he filled you up, making a mess of you. he instantly reached out to touch your chin gently to look at you, "you okay, princess?"
you managed to nod but he shock his head, "words, i need to hear you, angel" it was a soft order, one you couldn't look away from.
so you reassure him that you are happy and so content, he seems to like your words, smiling. lifting you up and maneuvering you on top of him, still inside of you. his fingers trace over your bare back soothingly as he lights a cigarette with his other hand, just like that night.
and you smiled to yourself because you knew. you knew that this time when you woke up, you wouldn't have to leave, you would be able to look at his sleeping smile as long as you wanted. it was a comforting thought.
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— cheonsa means angel.
🍓 tag list — @chansloverr , @marimarvelfan , @bxcndd , @1-in-abillion , @ahgasegotarmy116 , @copycat-namjesus , @malkaimoon , @geminiml95 , @taiwan0618 , @jungkookfics , @rrosiitas , @stuti2904 , @spiderlilyserendipity , @m00njinnie , @ririkookiemonster , @emptynessclub , @yoongznme , @snow-strawberry , @ttanniett
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peppermintquartz · 2 months
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"Tommy?"
"Yes?"
"Did you ever want to date Eddie?"
A little confused by the question, Tommy looks over his shoulder at Evan who's still kneading away the knots in Tommy's back. From his angle, Tommy can't really see Evan's expression.
With a sigh, Tommy flops back onto his forearms. "Why are you asking?"
"Answer me first."
"Never crossed my mind," says Tommy.
Evan's strong fingers dig into a particularly stubborn knot in Tommy's lower back and the latter groans in appreciation. "You flew him to Vegas to watch a fight."
"I flew you to the Grand Canyon to watch a sunrise," Tommy counters. It was to celebrate their three months together and the view had been breathtaking. They had to fly back by mid-morning - they both had work the next day - but it's clear that Tommy has a romantic soul and he's relishing in the free rein to unleash the full force of that romantic soul on his Evan.
"That's different," Evan argues without any heat. "We'd been dating three months by that time. You flew him to Vegas after two weeks of knowing him."
Sighing, Tommy pats Evan's knee, a signal for him to stop and get off Tommy's butt where he's perched. As he rolls over to look at his boyfriend, he wonders what is actually bothering Evan. The most logical thing to do is to ask him, so he does.
Evan scrunches his nose at the query. He's so adorable that Tommy wants to drag him down and kiss him silly, but this seems to be a matter that needs some consideration so Tommy waits.
"I guess... Well, Eddie's good-looking," says Evan, his pretty eyes downcast. "And he has more hobbies that you two share. And you have shared experience in the army. I guess I just... I don't know. Maybe I'm still a little jealous that you spent those first two weeks with him when Eddie and I got to know you at the same time."
"Hmm." Now Tommy has to pull Evan down to kiss him, because he's being silly. "Baby, I flew him to Vegas because that was how I was planning to go to Vegas that night anyway. I had a shift the next day and hell was I gonna drive all the way there and back just for one night." He kisses his boyfriend. "I was happy to invite Eddie along, but if he hadn't accepted the ticket I'd have flown solo anyway."
Evan exhales with a huff. "Okay. Fine."
"As to why I spent time with him first," Tommy continues, grinning widely as he turns Evan by the chin to face him, "he asked if we could hang out. You know, the way someone who isn't flustered by a crush might do?"
"I wasn't flustered!"
"Sure you weren't? Because I seem to remember things quite differently-"
Evan shuts up Tommy's tease and subsequent bark of laughter with a kiss. Tommy smiles into it and wraps his limbs around Evan, trapping the younger man in place.
When they part for breath, Tommy murmurs, "I have never once thought about dating Eddie. He is attractive, yes, but he's not the one I couldn't stop thinking about after the night of the rescue. His smile wasn't the smile I wanted to see up close. And he certainly isn't the one I want to hold like this and kiss, like this," Tommy demonstrates, "for the rest of my life."
Something in Evan's gaze relaxes, grows warm. "For the rest of your life?"
"Yeah. A little early to ask properly, perhaps, but yes. The rest of my life."
Evan takes a deep breath and burrows close. "Okay."
"That's it? Okay?"
"You want more, you gotta wait until you ask properly. But it's... I'm good with it." Evan pecks a light kiss to Tommy's lips. "The rest of our lives."
676 notes · View notes
bunnys-kisses · 1 month
Text
side switcher
max verstappen
cw: smut/pwp, wolff!reader, driver!max, unprotected sex, rough sex, degrading language, unprotected sex and its consequences, hot stuff (!!!), missionary sex
bunny says: thanks for reading! comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! feel free to suggest your own ideas for future fics!!
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you sighed as you walked down the busy monza street the night after the grand prix. you had to calm yourself down, this was just a meeting.
"bärchen." your father had said, his hands on your shoulders, "you talk to verstappen to consider the offer from mercedes. i think he needs to talk to someone who is... closer in age. not some old man like me." he laughed. his voice was tinged with a softness that was only reserved for his daughter.
you looked at him, "i don't know how to negotiate the way you can."
"that is fine, bärchen. we need an unconventional approach to get verstappen to consider. he is too tied up with red bull, a younger face might be just what we need."
you father wasn't pimping you out. god no, he didn't want you to have sex with max verstappen. the idea of a driver like max with a toto's daughter made the head principal sick.
you stood outside the restaurant and adjusted your blouse before you stepped inside. the place was lavish, high ceilings and low lighting. the food smelt delicious even from a distance. it was the kind of place to make a deal like the one your father was attempting to secure.
he was impressed with max verstappen and you were going to help him make sure that max considered his options. the driver was seated near the back and you gave him a little wave.
"ms. wolff." you said as you reached over across the table to shake max's hand, "i'm toto wolff's daughter, he arranged for us to have a little... talk."
"i didn't know that toto was sending his daughter now. i thought he had a team for that kind of stuff."
you smiled, "well, this is just an informal meeting. the real guns will come out when you agree to talk to my father." you sat down across from him.
you tried not being starstruck, you knew that you had to do this for your father. but you couldn't help but feel a little flushed under max's gaze.
"what would mercedes be willing to give me that red bull won't?" max asked as he looked at you, "must be a pretty hefty deal."
you had the wine menu in your hand, "well. more money." you chuckled, "the numbers won't be finalized until your team meets their team. but i think you could do a lot better there. aren't you tired of being under horner's thumb?"
max raised his eyebrows, "what is be the difference between horner and wolff?"
"my father will make sure that you... shine on the track."
max pushed further, "right, right. i've been winning with red bull, why would i change now?"
you replied, "have you? you're slipping between their fingers. you potential is wasted with them. with mercedes you could have it all."
max smirked, "does the head principal's daughter come with the deal too? or does toto keep you under lock and key and out of the paddock?"
"who i am with is not my father's concern." you were trying to deflect, this was about the deal not you basically being used as a tool to entice the driver.
max chuckled, "i'm sure. if you showed up to the paddock with a mclaren boy or worse a red bull one, i'm sure he'd be quite happy."
not if it was you, you thought.
the dinner was alright, the entire time you felt like you were playing a mental chess that you were unable to really enjoy the meal. whatever pieces max put down as he ate and drank wine, you had a comeback.
it wasn't until the check came and he snatched it out of your hands before you could read the full price.
"my treat." he said, "it's impolite for a man to make the woman pay. even if she's trying to manipulate him."
"i'm not trying to manipulate you, i'm showing you options."
he laughed, "right, right. your foot rubbing against my leg and the cute little faces you keep making are only for buisness purposes."
you looked away, not denying him. he found it endearing. he'd give toto wolff credit, using his daughter to seduce him into signing a contract was a bold move. but max was less interested in a mercedes ride, but rather how did the head prinicpal's daughter ride herself.
"do you want to go back to my hotel?" he asked boldly after he paid the hefty bill, "iron out more of the details without so many people possibly hearing us." you weren't going to be doing much talking when you got back to his hotel room.
you smiled and reached across the table for him, you ran a manicured nail down his wrist, "i was just thinking the same thing."
the hotel room was nice, but not as nice as max's hands on you as he unbuttoned your blouse, his lips on your neck. it felt hot being in the room with him.
you got the belt off his pants and pressed yourself further up against him as you stuck your hand down his pants. his lips found yours and you whined into the kiss.
clothes were not an option for the evening, max wanted to see it all. what toto wolff had been hiding this whole time, his precious daughter about to be fucked by a driver for red bull. that would make quite the story.
max undressed you and you in turn undressed him. you got on the large bed and had him pushing you down fully onto it and climbing on top of you. you moaned into the next kiss as you felt max's heavy erection rub against you.
"intimidated?" he asked.
"of you? no." you replied.
he chuckled and got back on his heels between your legs. he grabbed you by the hips quickly and got your bottom half closer to him. his cock threatening to sink into your sweet pussy.
you held onto the bed as he slipped his cock into you. then wrapped your arms around him afterwards when he leaned in for a searing kiss. you wrapped your legs around him and he started to thrust into you. you gasped, "holy shit." close to his ear.
he looked at you once more, those blue eyes clouded with lust as he pulled you in for a hot kiss and moved against you. the heat in the room thickened as the two of you rutted against one another on the bed.
the kisses were sloppy, the sound of fucking was woven in with the sounds of your heavy breathing. max's thrusts took the wind out of you as you held onto him. it felt painfully intimate for a one night stand.
but in the back of your mind, you knew you'd be tumbling in the sheets with max verstappen more than once. his lips trailed down your neck as he held you by the shoulders for leverage, moving you up and down his cock with each heavy thrust.
"you look good." he said.
you chuckled, "you're not too bad yourself. usually drivers i bed are bad at sex."
he smirked, "i guess you do have the full paddock at your disposal." he didn't know if you were saying it to strike jealousy in him. he added, "but i have a feeling that they'll be less than when i'm done with you."
you looked him in the eyes, as you met his pace with the roll of your hips, "don't get a big head there, verstappen. if you do your helmet won't fit anymore."
he pulled you into another hot kiss and continued to move against you. you could feel your heartbeat in your chest as he pushed up against you.
"i bet your father would have a fit if he saw you like this. under me, like a good girl." he remarked when he broke the kiss, "he expected for you to get me drunk and sign some papers. not end up in bed with me, with my cock deep inside of you."
you tangled your fingers in his short hair and lined your mouth up with his. you said to him, "can you shut up about my father?"
"why?" he asked, "want a daddy then."
"calm the ego, verstappen."
he leaned in a little closer, his thrusts were getting sloppier, "can't, not when i'm balls deep in you, wolff." then pressed his lips against yours. he felt a shudder through his body as he felt you tighten around him.
in the kiss you clung onto him and moaned as you came. your thighs tightened around his waist as you felt the rush of euphoria through your body. when you started to come down, you maintained the kiss and kept your grip on him.
when max broke the kiss, you could see the sexual haze in his eyes as he gave you a few more hard thrusts before he shoved every last centimeter inside of you and finished.
it wouldn't dawn on you till the next morning that neither of you used protection.
"good girl." he said between pants.
you looked at him, arm still around his shoulders and your other hand in his hair, "not too bad yourself, max."
he pulled out and kissed you once more. his soaked, softening cock was pressed against your slit. he pulled away from the kiss and held your face for a moment, "will your father be worried if you're back late?"
you looked at him dead in the eyes and said, "i honestly don't care about him right now. i have my eye on the prize and that's to cum again. i need you, max."
"that kind of attitude might make me come to mercedes." he chuckled before he kissed you once more.
-
toto wolff was the type of man to get what he wanted. he was good that way, he knew exactly how to move the pieces. but sometimes the pieces surprised him.
like how his only daughter ended up in bed with max verstappen. and while you claimed that it was a one time thing for the benefit of mercedes! the timelines didn't add up when you told your father over dinner close to four months after that you were four weeks pregnant.
and the father was the current champion.
toto may have spat out his wine during dinner at the news. but little did he know that verstappen was a lot more willing to join mercedes if it meant being closer to his new woman. the head principal of the mercedes team believed that his future grandson would look a lot nicer in a black, silver and white onesie rather than the garish colours of red bull.
maybe the conditions that led to champion signing to a new team were unconventional and most likely to never be repeated. but as he watched you meet max at the paddock and grin as you pressed your forehead against his helmet, toto couldn't be too angry. business is messy and sacrifices had to be made. for toto that meant accepting max as a future son-in-law.
he did however believe he was far too young to be a grandfather. <3
719 notes · View notes
livwritessometimes · 2 months
Text
I Can Do It With A Broken Heart
: Mason Mount x singer!reader
: Y/n can do it with a broken heart
: Prev (Love Lost Series) | Next
: Begin Again Series
: Love Lost Series
: Main Masterlist
: Author's Note: It’s finally here!!! The spin-off series for Love Lost! Lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist
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liked by kellypiquet and 92,780 others
Yourname: Just me, my niece, my Kelly, and some guy we found on the way 🌊
view all 79,721 comments
kellypiquet: the best way to spend summer 🩵
*liked by Yourname*
User21: “my Kelly” 🥺🥺
maxverstappen: Excuse me ☝🏻 what do you mean by some random guy???
-> Yourname: I think I was pretty clear by what I meant 😌
-> kellypiquet: ya seemed crystal to me 🤷🏻‍♀️
-> maxverstappen: why do I even bother anymore 🤦🏻‍♂️
-> User69: ya max at this point just admit it’s Y/n and Kelly in a relationship and you’re the other woman 😙
*liked by kellypiquet and Yourname*
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liked by maxfewtrell and 65,528 others
👤: magui_corceiro
landonorris: Summer has never been better ☀️
view all 52,301 comments
magui_corceiro: ily sm ❤️
*liked by landonorris*
-> landonorris: ily too 💘
maxfewtrell: It’s ok 👌🏻 no need to thank the photographer or anything
→ landonorris: 🙄
User09: Ahhhh so cuteeeee!!!!
User86: I love them SO MUCH 💗
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liked by kellypiquet and 122,710 others
Yourname: Lights, Camera, Bitch Smile! 📸
view all 97,578 comments
maxverstappen: P says she loved the show a lot!
*liked by Yourname*
-> Yourname: Tell P I love her!! And that I’m getting her all the merch from the shows 💕
-> kellypiquet: Y/n no ☝🏻 she already has a lot of merch
→ maxverstappen: Yes Y/n - P :)
-> Yourname: 😊
-> kellypiquet: 😠
-> Yourname: 🏃🏻‍♀️
-> maxverstappen: 🏃🏻
-> maxverstappen: 🏃🏻‍♀️- P
User43: Another day of Y/n and Max testing Kelly’s patience
*liked by kellypiquet*
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liked by User84 and 32,942 others
👤: Yourname
Y/nUpdates: Y/n L/n was spotted taking pictures with a fan. According to her fans, she seems to be in a good place. Many are happy to see the singer smiling again, especially after the breakup of Lando Norris and Y/N L/n. Since then, Norris has started seeing Portuguese model Margarida Corceiro. There is no news about whether L/n is seeing someone or not. Stay tuned to find out more about what the singer has been up to these days. 
view all 26,305 comments
User04: I'm so happy that she’s better now!!!
User79: she's so pretty 😍
User66: Who needs a man to be happy anyways 😊
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liked by User04 and 247,974 others
👤: Yourname, carlossainz55, joaofelix79, puma
scuderiaferrari: Stay tuned for this week's video with Puma’s newest ambassadors, Y/n L/n and João Félix. Watch the magic happen as the two partner up with our very own Carlos Sainz in an interesting video, wherein you’ll get to see them take turns at tongue twisters in each other’s native language. We can’t say much about the video, just that our stomachs still hurt from laughing so much 🤭. Video out this Thursday!
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Yourname: 💕
*liked by scuderiaferrari*
carlossainz55: Can’t wait 🙌🏻
*liked by scuderiaferrari*
joaofelix79: Had so much fun 🫶🏻
*liked by scuderiaferrari*
User55: Ferrari you dirty dirty bastard 😏
User08: Puma said let’s play matchmaker and picked the two people who would actually break the internet if spotted together 😩
User78: If I were Lando or Magui I would be so salty tho 😝
User00: Not them throwing Carlos being in the mix 😭 cherry on the top for little lando norris!!
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liked by joaofelix79 and 95,728 others
👤: joaofelix79, carlossainz55
Yourname: Cats out of the bag ig 🤭
view all 64,262 comments
joaofelix79: i guess so 🤔
-> Yourname: Seems like we can’t do anything now 🤷🏻‍♀️
-> joaofelix79: 😏
User89: ok wtf? I was not expecting them to be interacting like this! It’s kinda 😳
User64: why do I suddenly crave more João and Y/n content in my life!!
carlossainz55: I still think it was unfair 👎🏻
-> Yourname: Chilli you’re just upset cause you lost 😜
-> User11: She has a nickname for CARLOS ❤️❤️
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liked by kellypiquet and 148,611 others
👤 : maxverstappen, redbullracing, joaofelix79
Yourname: This week’s episode of Keeping Up With Max-Emilian 🇳🇱
view all 94,729 comments
joaofelix79: Best paddock partner 🫱🏻‍🫲🏼
*liked by Yourname*
-> Yourname: Honestly! Like what would you have even done without me 💅🏻
-> joaofelix79: hmm 🤔 probably gotten to the garage faster 😊
-> Yourname: I see how it is! Good luck trying to navigate through the area next time 🙂
-> joaofelix79: now now Y/n I’m just joking 😅 why aren’t you answering your call?? I still don’t know where the exit is!! Y/NN
-> Yourname: 🦗🦗
maxverstappen: 💙
*liked by Yourname*
redbullracing: At this point it should be ‘Keeping Up With Y/n’ who is this Max anyways 🤷🏻‍♂️
→ Yourname: maybe it should be 🤭
-> maxverstappen: Betrayed by my own team 💔
User99: Y/n and João dating was not on my 2024 bingo 🫨
User02: Did he take…no he didn’t…is he wearing her cap in the 3rd photo??? 🧢
-> User81: WAITTT HE ISSSSSS
joaofelix79 added to their story!
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seen by Yourname and 53,490 others
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liked by User66 and 57,821 others
👤: Yourname, joaofelix79
FootballUpdates: Y/n L/n and João Félix were spotted at a cafe near L/n’s apartment. Rumor has it, the two have been close ever since they shot a video together for the Scuderia Ferrari x Puma collab with Carlos Sainz. Many fans are excited about the potential for the two to become a couple, although some find it odd. It also should be noted that L/n’s ex, Lando Norris, and Félix’s ex, Margarida Corceiro, are currently in a relationship. There has been a lot of talk online about this newfound relationship between the two being the ‘ultimate revenge’ but only time will tell whether the two are dating or not. 
view all 41,921 comments
User04: Shut upppppp there is now wayyyy!!
User33: they’d be kinda cute don’t you think 💭
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liked by landonorris and 78,761 others
👤: redbullracing
magui_corceiro: With the bulls today 🩵
view all 53,711 comments
landonorris: That’s okay your heart is at papaya
*liked by magui_corceiro*
magui_corceiro: Always baby 🧡
redbullracing: Happy to have you with us this week 💙
*liked by magui_corceiro*
User11: nah red bull did Y/n dirty 🙂
User02: Max looked so awkward 😭😭
User67: You’re so prettyyyy 🧡
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liked by alexandrasaintmleux and 106,829 others
👤: alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari
Yourname: Just met the love of my life 💕 Never gonna leave Leo now 🐕
view all 82,832 comments
alexandrasaintmleux: You told me you won’t post that picture 😕
-> Yourname: nooo don’t be sadd! You looked so cute I had to 😫
-> alexandrasaintmleux: 😊
scuderiaferrari: So does this mean that you’ll be at our garage from now on 😌
-> redbullracing: ah ah not so fast 🙅🏻‍♂️
-> scuderiaferrari: shooo 🤺
User09: Y/n x Ferrari Content>>>>>>>>
joaofelix79: ready to be the tour guide for Ferrari then?
-> Yourname: depends on who is looking for the tour 🗺️
-> joaofelix79: hmm okay 😏
-> User99: WHAT ARE THESE INTERACTIONS???
-> User71: Are you dating or not???? Just tell us please 😭😭
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liked by kellypiquet and 162,829 others
👤: kellypiquet, alexandrasaintmleux, joaofelix79
Yourname: In between the studio 🎶
view all 99,626 comments
User65: ARE WE GETTING NEW MUSIC????
joaofelix79: Ofc you used that photo 🙄
*liked by Yourname*
-> Yourname: you love it 🥰
-> joaofelix79: Debatable I’d say 😬
kellypiquet: 🤭🤭
-> Yourname: 🤭🤭
-> User82: Kelly what do you know????? TELL US!!
charles_leclerc: ok it’s all good, hang out with my girlfriend and my dog but don’t tag me in the photo (even tho I took the second picture) 😃
-> Yourname: you’re just jealous they like me more 😌
-> alexandrasaintmleux: ya Charles, even Leo ran towards Y/n when you asked him ‘Leo my child who do you love more Y/n or your father?’ 😂
-> charles_leclerc: Alex that is OUR CHILD 😭
-> alexandrasaintmleux: life is so tough as a single mom 😔
-> Yourname: It’s okay Alex, I’m ready to be Leo’s other mom ☺️
-> alexandrasaintmleux: 🥰
-> User61: I don’t even know what to say to Charles at this point 😭😭
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liked by User04 and 107,618 others
👤: kellypiquet, alexandrasaintmleux, joaofelix79, maxverstappen, charles_leclerc, masonmount
F1updates: It seems like these stars have taken dancing the night away to a whole new level. F1 driver Max Verstappen was spotted at a club along with his longtime girlfriend Kelly Piquet, friend and fellow driver Charles Leclerc, and his girlfriend Alexandra Saint Mleux. Fans also spotted singer/songwriter Y/n L/n and football stars João Félix and Mason Mount with the group. According to bystanders, the group was celebrating Verstappen and Leclerc’s podium. In an interesting turn of events, some fans also spotted L/n getting involved in some serious dance floor action with a certain someone. Unfortunately, none of the people around were able to see the guy's face, but it is believed to be someone from the group. Now the question is: could it be one of the single footballers, or was it one of the committed F1 drivers?
view all 89,672 comments
User04: WTFFFFF
User29: That has to be João!!!!
-> User06: Ikrrrrr like there is no question! The two have been so mysterious ever since the shot that video for puma
User52: The question is what is Mason doing there?
-> User03: Mason and João are good friends and João has been hanging out with Y/n a lot so maybe he called him? Who knows tbh 🤷🏻‍♀️
User77: Wow was Lando not enough for her? Now she is planning to ruin Max and Charles life too???
-> User88: let’s not forget featuring in a video with Carlos!! Like you know they’re good friends, I bet Carlos rejected her 😌
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liked by masonmount and 216,618 others
Yourname: You know you’re good when you can even do it with a broke heart ❤️‍🩹
My new single out at midnight 🏆
view all 186,527 comments
kellypiquet: I’M SO PROUDDDDD ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹
*liked by yourname*
maxverstappen: Ngl P and I play this every night before bedtime 💕
*liked by yourname*
-> Yourname: Maxieee you love me 🥹
-> maxverstappen: ok maybe a little 🤏🏻
alexandrasaintmleux: I’m so obsessed with you it’s not even a joke at this point 🤩
-> Yourname: I’m still saying I’m ready to be Leo’s other mom, just say the word and it’s done 🧑‍🧑‍🧒
-> charles_leclerc: It’s okay I have faith in the power of our love ❤️ (Alex please I’ll start crying right in the middle of the garage)
charles_leclerc: It’s gonna be such a hit Y/n/n I know it 🫡
*liked by yourname*
joaofelix79: It’s gonna create quite the buzz when it comes out 🤭
-> Yourname: what do you even mean 🤔
-> joaofelix79: we’re gonna play coy now are we? 😏
User59: that guy HAS TO BE JOÃO!!!!
-> User31: I SWEARRRR 😭😭 please let it be him 🙏🏻
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Tags: @jobesbabe | @fifantasys | @evans-dejong | @msliz | @lokideservesahug | @jpg3 | @jxnellat | @spoodergirl | @themirrorballgal | @sarah-thatstings-ann | @newlifeforus | @eiaaasantha | @hotgirlslikemax | @2pagenumb | @avni-sarai | @wobblymug |
854 notes · View notes
chronically-ghosted · 5 months
Text
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iron and charcoal
rating: explicit 18+ pairing: pero tovar x f!reader word count: 6.9K summary: Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana. But there would be no tomorrow. No future, no light of dawn – not without –  Her. He’d never heal because tomorrow would never come.  OR Pero falls hard for a princess and doesn’t know what to do with himself on your wedding night. warnings: angst, brief classism/xenophobia two very stubborn people, pero experiences one Human Emotion and cannot fully process it, arranged marriage, yearning, smut LIKE WOW, soft!pero that i broke my own heart with a/n: Thank you so much to @perotovar for this request: "congrats on your milestone, my love! so happy for you <33 i'm sending a little astrology 💫 + pero & #6 on the fluffy list OR #1 on the smutty list (whichever is speaking to you), because i wanna see your take on him 👀” – of course I chose the slutty one, just for you 😉 I’m actually pretty proud of this one - please consider reblogging if you like it too!
*the image in the header is for aesthetic purposes only and does not reflect the appearance of the reader*
🤍Masterlist 🤍Pero Tovar Masterlist
💜come see what else we've done to celebrate 1K followers
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Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana. 
Sometimes before battle, the clatter inside Pero’s head goes silent. It listens. It waits. 
Other times, it roars. Memories of family, of dead amigos, of mujeres he fucked – they all buck and scratch for a chance to blaze across his mind like a dust storm kicked up by an unbroken mustang. 
He doesn’t know which one he prefers or which one will win out. They both have their uses, necessary states of mind to survive whatever is barreling towards him – an ax, a monster out of legend, some other drunken mercenary he intentionally pissed off. It’s an unconscious decision, yet one that has served him well so far. He wouldn’t be alive today if some deep, primal part of him knew what he needed to live through another battle. 
And yet, his own trunk knocking against his hips as he climbed the sickly ostentatious stone steps to the top of the parapet, the handles starting to pinch his fingers, the barest – nearly invisible – tremor in his knees, he cannot fathom, for the life of him, why that singular phrase from his abuela played in his head like water swirling around and around a cenote. 
Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana. 
Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana. 
His inner voice, taking on a myriad of forms, of sounds and voices, never quite standing still, the one companion he could always rely on. 
Maybe it was warning him. Dust yourself off, boy, you know exactly how this was going to end. 
Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana. 
But there would be no tomorrow. No future, no light of dawn – not without –
Her.
He’d never heal because tomorrow would never come.
He feels sweat escape from the nape of curls at his neck, his cheeks warm and chest hot. Two more flights, he can manage two more flights. 
His abuela also liked to tell him something else: if hell doesn’t get him, his pride certainly will. 
It’s certainly what got him into this ridiculous farce in the first place. Because he can’t alchemize whatever is in his gut into vocalized syllables, he instead has to climb a truly incalculable amount of stairs, while carrying a ragged, torn trunk that weighs as much as his armor. 
Because he can’t form the right words, any words, about what he carries lodged beneath his breastbone for her. What draws him up and up and up and up because it’s lighter than hope, makes him lighter than air, and yet it clogs him up, chokes him out all the same. His pride, his vanity, cuts through it, through her – enough to keep him tongueless and dry but not enough to offer this lightness in his chest to her, for her. He can’t take the light out of him or else he fears what he will truly become.
So, he walks, he goes around and around on unforgiving stone steps until finally there is a door. He thinks about waiting, to catch his breath, but he knows he will just as easily turn around and go back the way he came, trunk still heavy and knocking against his hips, and that pride will be the death of him. So he keeps going, opens the handle, and makes abrupt eye contact with the two guards outside her door. They seem uninterested and unamused in his sweaty, stilted breathing, but by his less-than-royal attire, they easily clock him as one of their own; a man who fights to make his way in the world. The one on the left nods jerkily at him. 
What they see him as, what he will always be, is nearly the reason he kicks that fucking trunk all the way back down. Instead, he nods back, shoulders rounded, eyes down. 
“The princesa - the princess - is requesting the last of her things, to be b-brought up from the stables –,” he clears his throat, “drop this off for her and –,”
“Can’t let you in. King’s orders.” The one on the right sees him as something else – a foreigner first and foremost, their similar stations in life irrelevant. His bright blue eyes rove over Pero’s dark skin, dark hair, jagged scar, distaste and disgust smearing his already ugly features. But he had been dealing with men like these all his life.
“Bueno, you can explain to the King himself why his daughter’s belongings were lost and disregarded. I hear she’s very fond of the Italian prints at the bottom of this . . .”
The guards glance at each other, calculating way above their paygrade. Pero jostles the trunk as if to show he is not above throwing it out the window. 
“Fine.” The second one snaps. “Drop it inside and come back immediately.”
He drops his head, a good little foreign boy. “Gracias, señor.” 
The heavy wooden door opens beneath the iron lock and the instant he is through, he bolts it behind him. Waits to see if the guards notice. They don’t. Perfectamente – all the time in the world. 
All in the time in the world – for what? 
To fail? Again?
He stows the trunk in front of the door, extra time, a few seconds maybe – as if she wouldn’t just tell him to get out the instant she laid eyes on him. Only time will tell. 
Out of the atrium, another door, this one set deep into the wall. A last line of defense. He knocks, once, then twice, then waits. El orgullo chokes him again but fuck it, he’s come this far. He knocks again, knocks something in his chest free and, with it, spill the words:
“Princesa? It’s me. I –,” it throttles him, “princesa, can you open the door?” 
Silence. His heart sits, buried in that trunk. Then –
“It’s unlocked, Pero.” 
His heart in his throat, he opens the door to presumably what will be your marriage bed. And yet, by the state of things, you could have been moving out of it. Trunks and bags stack high against the far wall – those fucking trunks he made such a scene over because the unnecessary weight would slow them all down remain untouched, arranged as they had been when they had been first brought in. He didn’t quite know what to make of that, his thumb absently pressing into the callus of his other hand as he glanced around. It is a beautiful room – tall windows, etched in scarlet drapes, to match the scarlet curtains around the bed. With gold thread and impossibly detailed paintings of the countryside, it is fit for a princess, a some-day queen. This is where someone with royal blood deserved to be, not in the back of a hot carriage for weeks on end, surrounded by dirty, loud, rough men. 
And yet, with your hair down, expansive gown from the ball tonight replaced with a simple cotton dress, you could not have been more out of place. Pero’s heart lurches briefly, moisture seeping from his mouth, as he realizes this is the same dress he bought you when the two of you had been accidentally separated by the caravan and your previous dress had been ruined in the mud. He had no idea you still kept it, much less wore it ever again. 
But if anyone asked him, you look more beautiful in this than any silk or velvet. 
Instead of unpacking, settling into your new home and eventual role as wife, you sit hunched over at the intricately carved mahogany desk, eagle feather quill scratching against parchment. You finish with a flourish and look over your shoulder at him, your eyes annoyingly unreadable. 
“Yes?”
A stupid brute some may call him, but he wasn’t entirely without awareness. Observation of your customs and what you considered inappropriate only encouraged him: if you really didn’t want him here, you would never have let him see you in this state.
But it’s hard to remember that under your icy stare. 
“Y-your things, Princesa. The last from the caravan.”
Your eyes slide over him, to the trunk in the shadows of the atrium. He can tell from a single glance that you know as well as he that trunk is not yours, that no one told him to come here with it, and yet he did it all the same. Something flashes over your eyes but it’s gone by the time you meet his gaze again. 
“Thank you. I am, as always, indebted to you.” 
He hates your words, but warmth spreads in his gut at the way you say it. That’s how it’s always been between you and him – saying one thing but meaning another. He’d never appreciated a sharp mind like yours until he realized you wield it as he wields a sharp sword. 
There are many things he’d never even dreamed of before he met you.
“Then, this means you’re leaving, I suppose.” You draw your sword against him. The metal flashes in your eyes as you stand, one hand against the curved tip of your chair. A bronze halo rims your outline, the fire behind you burning bright and hot. He knows if he touched your shoulder, your neck, your skin would be wonderfully warm. 
He wets his lips. “Si. Our contract with your father is done.” 
You drop his gaze, your lips tightening for a minute, your fingers running through the carvings of wood on the chair. “Even with William in his state? Would it not be better for him to stay and recover? The journey home is –,” you pause, as though someone had thrown a hand over your mouth, “– the journey back east is long.” 
All the longer without you.
“William, he is not an idle man. Two days of bedrest is often all he can take.” 
You grin, in spite of this thing circling you both. “Unless he finds the nun attending to him beautiful.
“He finds them all beautiful.” 
Your smile expands wide across your bright face when you find him smiling at you too. 
This – if this is to be his last memory of you (his heart wrenches at the thought) – this is the you he wants imprinted on his soul: smiling and glowing by firelight. 
But as quickly as it came, that grin that warms him down to his bones, fades. In an instant, your eyes grow soft, your mouth twisted, jaw tight.
“Where will you go?” you ask, in the quietest voice you’d ever addressed him with. 
It pains him, physically aches within him, to hear the distress in your voice. He hasn’t even thought about the next contract, the next royal cabrón who intends to yank him all across God’s green earth to perform a task he can’t be fucked to take on himself. How can he possibly answer you? Nowhere, without you. To rot in a dark hole in the ground? Off a cliff? What answer would provide you or him any sort of satisfaction?
“Wherever the coin goes,” he says and the words scrape his tongue like bile. That ache in his chest spiraling rapidly, deep into his gut – like a poisoned limb he cannot amputate – he does the same thing he always does when he’s hurt: he makes others hurt until they leave him alone. “You do not have to worry, princesa, your new husband will keep you in such comfort you will never wonder where the coin comes from.”
He must be a truly sick man, for the knife-sharp glare you throw at him only knots arousal around the base of his spine. It tugs on something attached directly to his groin which, in turn, yanks the next words out of his mouth.
“He looked especially happy with you in his arms on the dance floor tonight.”
The icy shards in your eyes go brittle and crack. His heart races; he’s overplayed his hand. 
“You watched me dance?”
“All guardsmen were required to –,”
You shake your head, eyes bright and searing through him. “No. It was only the King’s Knights there in attendance.” 
Your hand trailing off the edge of the chair, you take a step forward and he feels his weight shift back onto his heels. But he remains firm. 
Sana, sana.
“Pero, why did you come here tonight?”
“To return the last of your things, princesa. What else is there?”
You flinch, as if he had raised his voice to you. What else is there indeed?
“Not even to . . .  say goodbye? Sixteen weeks on the road is an awfully long time to be around someone, only for them to . . . leave so soon.”
He locks his knees to keep them from shaking. “Do you wish for me to tell you goodbye, princesa?” 
There’s something painfully sad about the way you smile at him. “I wish for whatever would make you happiest.” 
Anger roars within him, hungry and hot, like a burn from a white flame. Why can’t you just admit it? Why do you avoid it time and time again? He knows he hasn’t misread anything you’ve sent his way, so why? Why are you so vested in torturing him this way? 
“Coin makes me happy and, now that I have it, there’s nothing to keep me here.”
There, that hurts you too, just as he meant it.
“Then leave.” They could make ice fortresses out of the strength of your bone-cold stare. “If you have nothing else to say, then take your goddamn trunk and get out of my sight.” 
The flame scorches him, ripping him apart and in his anger, making him cruel.
He bows to you.
“I imagine you will be very happy with your new husband, ranita.”
The term slips from his lips before he can stop it, but his throat and cheeks blister so badly, he physically can’t open his mouth to correct his mistake. Instead, he turns and strides towards the door.
He thinks he hears a gasp from behind him, a sharp sound like breaking glass – small, tinkling, tragic. It spears him through his chest, pierces his heart. 
He gets to the door and pauses.
If you have nothing else to say . . .
Of course he has something to say – words in English and Spanish and broken dialects gathered like poisonous lichen all churning in the boiling cauldron of his mind, but nothing will suffice – nothing reflects or compares to the grief he is already feeling, the despair, the anguish that has settled into all the fleshy joints in his body. Not his pride, but this, saying goodbye to you, this is what actually will kill him.
Every word imaginable crawls up his throat and rages in his mouth, presses up against his teeth, begging for something, anything to be let out, to be free, to tell you that he cannot fucking live without you–
Nothing comes through, but one single word.
“Don’t.” 
The fire crackles in the silence, a wicked god pleased at the display of carnage.
“What did you say?”
A dull thud echoes from where he drops his forehead against the wood of the door, all anger flooding out of his system. Do you have any idea the power you hold over him? One request, one tremor in your voice and his knees all but buckle at your altar. 
Fuck it. 
He always thought he’d go out in a blaze of bloody glory, but he’d never expected to be so exposed, so flayed like this.
“Don’t,” he repeats, his throat as dry as sand. “Do not . . . marry him. Please.” 
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The vision of your great warrior slumped against the door frame, his neck bent, shoulders curled up to his ears has your already pounding heart leaping forward into a gallop. He is defeated, laid low. You watch his guts all but pool out on your hearth. 
He looks about as hopeless and anguished as you feel. 
Your soldier, your man of iron and charcoal, goes blurry in your eyes.
“And what would you have me do, Pero?” Your plea is damp, malleable at the edges. You press your hand flat against your chest, near your throat, as if you could pull the grief lodged there with your fingers. “I have been engaged to this man before I was even born. How can I stop this?” 
“Fight.” The word snarls against his bare teeth. He turns, his eyes liquid ink, and suddenly he has you by the shoulders. His thumbs nervously skitter around the curve of your shoulder, gaze just as unsteady and unfocused as it wavers between your hands, your earlobe, your neck. "Where is my brave girl who fights for what she wants, hm? Fight – for me, please.”
Fight, he asks – but in spite of him or because of him?
You lay your hands on the silver shine of his breastplate, watch as they rise and fall with his steady flow of breath. How many nights had you woken up against that shine, in the crook of his arm for warmth, or protection? You didn’t cherish it at the time because you never knew when it would be your last. 
“Why won’t you fight, princesa?” His voice is low, strained, the groan of a wagon wheel before it breaks. You meet his gaze and the exposed look on his face, softening every line on his mouth and around his eyes, nearly sends you into hysterics. You swallow the tears, swallow the hook in your throat as your fingers curl around the clasps of his cape. 
"Because if I don't fight then I can't lose.” His fingers slip from your shoulders, to your elbows, to your waist. You inhale and the scents of warm leather, oil, and ash flood your mouth. The tip of your nose is inches from the scruff of beard against his cheek, the ruddy brown of his sun-drenched skin. He has curled you into him and this, you do not fight either. His massive palms map your back, against your skin, but without any urgency or control. “If I can’t lose, that means I don’t lose you. You'll just be . . . gone."
That last word is a lie. It hangs in the air like a sweltering humid rain and you both know you’re lying. He has you wrapped up in his arms, you didn’t stop him even for a second, and you are all too aware that it would take some great, insidious alchemy to ever truly tear him out of you. 
You stare at his silver collar, defiant against the waves you had managed to shackle down until this very moment: a wave of hopeless crashes into you, a wave of heartbreak, a wave of helpless that fills your eyes to the point of spilling with that very same salt water.
He touches your cheek delicately, fingers rough with callouses, and the floodgates break open with a sob. 
“Preciosa,” he rumbles softly against your hairline, “hush. You break my heart with your tears.” 
“Do not mock me, Tovar. Not now.” you sniff, trying to turn your face but his wide hands catch you around the cheeks.
“You are beyond mocking. I’d show you my heavy heart but I do not wish that weight on anyone.” The snag of his rough thumbs against your cheek draws your watery gaze to him. His mouth is a flat line, barred against whatever climbs his throat, but his eyes move like mercury across your nose, your eyelashes, the arch of your cheek. Your fingers wrap themselves around his wrists, a grounding agent against the waves that threaten to pull you under. 
“Pero, I –,”
“I have fought you, tooth and nail, for days without end. Every favor, every breath, you have forced them from me. I fight my own mind when I sleep at night. Sueños, always of the same woman.” He smears away the tears with his thumbs, gently, sweetly, before pressing his lips to your wet flesh by his knuckle. He inhales deeply, eyes closed, mouth hovering stationary above the skin of your cheek. “You fight me every step of the way . . . and I am so tired of fighting.” 
For all your struggling, for all your tearing and clawing and snarling against the blooming in your chest, nothing is as easy as it is to turn your head and press your lips to his. 
The brush of his bristled mustache against your upper lip. His warm, rough palms holding you steady. His lips soft and hot. You are overwhelmed by the scent of him.
There is nothing like, and nothing will ever be like, finally kissing Pero Tovar. 
All it takes is the movement of his hands from your cheeks to your lower back, the light trace of his tongue against your lips, and the yearning you’d been smothering for weeks now roars to life. His hands squeeze your hips and you can suddenly barely breathe. 
“Pero–,” the noise in the shape of his name that escapes you is near a whine, begging. He nips at your lips, hand firmly at the cup of your jaw, mouth now rough and insistent, and your fingers claw up his neck, wrapping themselves in his dark curls. You tug, nails scratching his scalp, and he groans into your mouth as if you’d just kneed him in the gut.
A thread-bare gasp of your name from his lips splits you from him, then his hand on your hip and the back of your neck pushing you backwards gives you enough air to breathe – to think.
"Your husband will know you're not a virgin,” Pero warns, breathing hard and fast, his eyes like black flints, “if we go on." 
You curl your fingers around his neck, dragging your mouth near his jaw, the soft skin at the edge of his ear.
"Then he will also know my heart is not his either.” You ask everything of him with this. His armor blocks his warm body from you – you want to sink inside his hard shell. “If you’ll have it.”
He is not himself, half-human with an inhuman want, with the snarl that leaves him. 
“Don’t make such promises, dulzura –,” A threat, a dog forced to expose its underbelly, fear radiating like the pain from a broken bone. Your fingers dig into the buckles of his cape, steadying you against a sudden terrible awareness that bloomed, purple-bruised. 
“Unless you don’t want –,” 
The desk rattles when your hips break against it, the force of his kiss enough to topple over your inkwell, spill rolls of parchment to the floor. The wood groans under your weight when he gathers the thick swell of your thighs in his hands, heaves you onto the flat surface, and spreads your knees around his waist. He is as hard as the iron on his chest. 
“Can you feel how much I want you?”
A frantic sigh of relief, a groan shared between two pairs of lips, seeking skin and warmth and other hungry places. 
He drags you onto his chest, your skirt bunched up around your hips, the rings of his armor digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, his mouth covering yours in wet pulls, and he stands up right, as though you weighed less than his sword. 
A stumble, and he spreads you out on the velvet covers of your marriage bed, his hands imprinting on your hips, your knees, the supple meat of your calves. The touch of him on your bare skin feels like the licks of flames, the smoke of arousal blurring your awareness and dragging your eyelids half-closed. On his heels at the edge of the bed, the flint shards of his eyes drift over the bones of your ankles, the bend of your knee, your heaving chest, hair in snarls around your neck and caught behind your back, and finally to your cunt, hidden by the folds of your dress. 
Velvet hums as you slide your ankles to the curve of your ass, widening your legs, parting your knees. His lips part open, dark want etching every line of his face. You feel the wet linen of your dress cling to your achy cunt. He swallows, unbuckling his cape one latch at a time, his eyes nowhere else. The metal clatters as it falls to the floor.
Piece by piece, the chinks in his armor fall away. Piece by piece, he is revealed to you. Your hands rise up, up your thighs to your knees, your thumbs rubbing soft circles. He watches, never tears his gaze away from your sticky hole, his nimble fingers working away the buckles and knots with practiced precision. You can see it in his eyes – memories of bedrolls by firelight, of such a deep painful, yearning ache, separated only by thin tarp, they are a physical weight beside you in this marriage bed. 
You see them because they’re there for you too. You see them because you've been here a dozen times, on your back, legs spread wide, your hands circling but never dipping, waiting. Wanting. For him. 
His bare chest is warm, the wings of his ribs expanding around short, half-drawn breaths, as he crawls up into your pliant mouth. The kisses are slow, like before, with a crackle of heat just beyond them, his hips slipping into the cradle of your thighs, the wet warmth of you separated by the thin linen of your dress. He sucks the tendon below your ear, a whine slipping out of your mouth, fingers spreading over the harsh planes of his back, and his cock bobs against your thigh. 
Pero is bare and warm and entirely yours. All man beneath the sweltering armor. 
“Amorcita,” he drips into your ear, kisses smeared against your collarbone, your mouth, your earlobe, “amorcita, amorcita . . . ranita, let me take you.” 
He starts to use teeth, a harder nip behind his kisses, when he dips down to your chest. A wide palm with stocky fingers grasps at your breast and it’s a startling sensation for you both. 
“Soft,” he moans before licking up under the supple curve of your breast, mouthing at what his tongue missed. He slips your erect nipple into his mouth and twists it between his teeth. “Sweet,” he murmurs with your nipple firmly between his lips. 
This is unlike anything you’ve felt before. You deliriously thank the gods that he hadn’t touched you like this on the road; you would have kept him, your own wild animal, in bed without rest for days on end.
Pero plucks just as aggressively at your other breast, the spit-wet nipple that preoccupied his mouth verging on purple and aching. He cups you from the outside this time, squeezing and massaging, ringing your nipple with his tongue until your back bows and you let out a whine that has his eyes flickering up to you, the scent of wounded prey filling his nostrils. 
That whine of pleasure elongates into a whimper: “please.”
“Tranquila, ranita.” His touch is softer around your bruised tits, but he keeps one hand bagging the weight of your breast while the other slips beneath your skirt.
The pads of his fingers brush your creamy cunt and with a yelp, you grab him by the wrist, your eyes open with a familiar emotion he draws out of you: rage.
“Pero Tovar, if you value your life you will take me under the covers and put your —,”
He chuckles, his cheek against yours, nose rimming the velvet hairs on the ridges of your ear. The vibrations liquify the tension in your bones, loosening your grip. Your eyes flutter, slick obviously running down his fingers. “Ranita, I don’t think you know how you want to end that sentence..”
His words roll like honey over the heat of your skin. It makes your skin tremble. Your grip tightens on his wrist and you roll your hips, your swollen clit finally relieved by the pressure of his palm. 
“Oh, oh, Pero—,” 
With a grunt, he shuffled closer, elbow by your shoulder and he cups your entire wet cunt in his hand, pushing the heel of his palm flatter against you. You cry out, a sparkling kind of pleasure radiating out from where his hand rests. You buck your hips faster, complete release flickering through your outstretched hand. 
“Can you come like this?” You nod, eyes squeezed shut as you barrel towards escape, and you feel him shudder next to you. You are intimately aware that he’s rubbing his cock on the crease of your hip bone but that only drags you faster towards the light. “Then come, ranita, come and I’ll fuck you.” 
The wet, curling heat growing between your legs descends, then in a bright snap, explodes across your body. 
“Fuck!” You tear open your eyes to find them damp, Pero’s massive hand cupping your cheek towards him, his stallion eyes dark as his fingers drag on the soaked material of your dress, your hips slowing. 
“Amorcita, breathe.” The words are torn from his chest, all cock-suredness gone from his frantic gaze. You gulp in air, the weight of his body over yours grounding and smothering you all at once. He pulls his hand away from you, rides it up your thigh to your waist, looking for something to hold onto. He strokes his thumb once against your overheated skin and you’re wriggling up out of your dress. 
“Help,” you hiss and his fingers nearly tear the fabric off you.
With a few undone buttons, you shiver out of your dress, the slick-drenched spots catching on your warm skin. He flings it behind him, near the fireplace. 
He takes you barely beneath the thick covers before you welcome him back to the heat of your open legs. 
But instead of reeling back and plunging his aching cock into you, he takes the time to kiss you. To praise you in all the ways he fears his mouth will end up short. He kisses you, grateful, reverent – wonderful to be swallowed by but also a distraction.
When he lifts your knees by his waist, your hips automatically tilt towards him and for the first time, you feel his red, sore cock between your tacky lips. The dual sensation nearly drags you over the rack of delectably delicious pleasure, as does his worn, broken groan in your ear. 
“More, please, don’t stop.” You cry against the bristles of his beard, his hand dropping between your sweat-slick bodies, finding yours already there to guide him. The press of him spreads you open, filling you one sinking notch at a time. The sensation of your pink, dripping walls moving to take more of him in has you arching up into his chest, nails dragging into his back. His dry lips stifle the moans escaping from your mouth. 
Pero takes both of your hands in his, dragging them above your head, his fingers locking your palms together as his hips roll forward. “Cálmate, amorcita, cálmate,” he murmurs between distracted presses of his mouth against your chin, your cheek, his breathing heavy and stunted. You writhe, pinned open by his hips and his hands, his cock filling you all too slowly and not fast enough. 
With the last few inches, you take him completely, your cunt throbbing, heart pounding, intoxicated by the sensation of being so maddeningly full. Pero drapes over you, his head tucked into your neck, forearms straining with the tension of gripping your hands tightly. 
“Santa madre . . .” He is not a warrior right now. He is but a man, cunt-drunk and heaving. 
His name is pushed out of the bottom of your lungs with the first swing of his hips. You cling to him, knees at his ribs, unwilling to let even an inch of space between your bodies. But this becomes increasingly difficult as his thrusts gain speed. His flushed lips stain a sticky line against your jaw, down to your throat, and he releases your hands, the oak of the bed creaking beneath the force of him drilling down into you, he props himself up on his palms, his shoulders bent and curled over you, biceps straining, hairline damp, eyelids fluttering. The scar on his cheek is flushed pink.
“Look, amorcita, look how well you take me.”
His words tear you from your nebulous high, the grit of them forcing your head down to the obscene squelch beneath the sheets. The thatch of rough curls over his groin is drenched in slick, his thick cock soaked to the point of shine as it drives into you again and again. The heavy draft of breath the sight steals from him, the tap of his cock against a place so deep you didn’t know your body possessed, draws the spooling bliss as tight as a wire. 
Your trembling thighs squeeze him tighter, that hot pressure rendering you speechless, except for the most pathetic whine. Please, Pero, please, you think, you mutter, you whisper, your body rocking damp against the sheets. 
With a sudden snarl, he takes the chunk of your hair at the base of your head flat in his fists and tugs. A shoot of bright pain sparks bliss down to your tight and bruised nipples, and you cry out again. 
“Stop fighting, puedo sentir cuanto la quieres. Let me have it.” It is the following word that splits you open like lighting carving apart a tree. “Please.”
The wail that you release is the rush of gooseflesh over your skin alchemized into audible sound. Heat radiates through you, sucking the air from your lungs, your vision going blurry, then black as you clamp your eyes shut against the rush, the final release, that curls you into his arms. His warm, flushed arms, shaking with strain. A final wobbly thrust or two and his elbows are buckling, sweat-drenched chest pressing into your own.
Distantly, you are aware of the warm, slick drip down your thighs, his cock pulsing the last drops into your cum-flecked cunt, and the dangers this sort of intimacy poses. You can’t gather enough breath, enough sense to settle the spinning room, to worry or even care. 
Your his, and he is yours. That is all that will ever matter. 
The crackle of wood burning is the only other sound than your ragged breaths, the silent roll of sweat from sticky hot skins into the bedsheets. The stone walls of the castle’s room entomb you together for a brief stretch of infinity.
Pero moves and you think he’s going to back out of you, but instead, he merely adjusts, his head fully on your chest, thick fingers clutching your bruised waist, the shift of his cock pushing more of his release out of your oversensitive cunt. But you’ll take overstimulation over his absence every time. You run your fingers through his damp curls and he hums. 
“I’m sorry,” he huffs into your humid skin. “I’m sorry I let my pride keep us apart for so long.” 
You grin lazily to the ceiling, your breath settling as affection takes its place in your chest. 
“You were not the only one blinded by vanity.” 
“But I’m not blind. Not anymore.” He lifts his head, eyes as dark as your spilled inkwell. “I am never letting you go.” 
You smile at him, fingers soft against the back of his neck. “I don’t plan on wandering away.” 
His oil-black gaze drops to your lips and he leans forward to take your mouth against his. Gentle, but with the promise of more. 
“Mi ranita,” he purrs to break the kiss. 
“You call me that all the time, Pero. What does it mean?”
At that, a nearly shy expression crosses his face. He shakes his head, shifting onto his elbows to lift off you. “I can’t tell you. It will ruin your good mood.” 
You gasp, offended, and you grab him by the ear and twist. He chuckles through a grimace. “You will tell me what that means, Pero Tovar, if you value your appendages.” 
“Órale, princesa, retract your claws and I will tell you.” 
You release your grip and settle against your pillow. Grinning bashfully, he kisses your neck briefly.
“Remember that I love you after I tell you this.” 
Your heart nearly stops, the absence of a steady beat nearly drawing tears to your eyes but you hold firm. You breathe deeply against the fluttering in your stomach and pin him with your glare. Of course, this is how he would profess his love to you – when he’s trying to get out of trouble. 
“Tell me, Tovar!”
He chuckles again and preemptively picks up your hands. He kisses the inside of your palms, settling himself between your thighs. 
“It means little frog.” Your mouth falls open in a gasp and you struggle to yank your hands back from him, hissing like a tea kettle, but he uses his weight to press down on you. He nips at your nose. “I call you that because when you’re upset with me, much like you are now, you puff up like a bullfrog, your cheeks like this–,”
He rounds his cheeks full of air, crossing his eyes, and you simply cannot take the slight anymore. You push roughly against his gut, the breath trapped in his mouth escaping in a hot puff, and you twist him onto his back. He lets you, of course, his bold, full laughter rendering him defenseless. His body shakes beneath you, his beautiful eyes squeezed shut, his mouth open wide as he laughs and laughs and laughs. You take him by the wrists and push his limp hands over his head, pinning him as he had you. You pinch his chin with your teeth, your messy cunt over his stomach, as his laughter subsides. 
“Have you had your fun yet?” 
“Barely,” he chuckles, turning his big nose against your cheek and inhaling. He hums.
“Is that all I am to you? A joke?”
Pero opens his eyes, sober as death rattle. He takes you in, not in a hungry, all-consuming way, but in a look that speaks of awe and rapture.
“You are everything to me.”
You sigh, releasing his hands and curling into his chest. He kisses the top of your head, your eyes on the roaring fire. His thumbs rub your shoulder blades, trace the lines of your spine.
“You’re so very lucky I love you too.” 
His wandering against the expanse of your back stills, just for a moment, before his fingers slide into your hair, around the nape of your neck, holding you to him with the intention of keeping you there forever.
“I know, ranita, I know.” 
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He watches you sleep as the sky lightens beyond the tall windows on the opposite side of the bedroom. The dying fire traces your edges in gold, settling heat in the curve of your lips. 
His heart lurches with the wanting of you.
There’s more terrible things to come, he knows that. The plan the two of you concocted in the early morning hours will be dangerous, deadly even. But dying together instead of living apart would be much more tolerable, you told him earlier that night, your hand on his chest. 
He would kill if you asked. He would kill, even if you didn’t, to keep you safe and by his side. You’ve proven yourself capable of living a life away from this spectacular opulence, but it pains him to know he will never be able to give you anything nearly as lovely as the velvet dresses in the closet, the gold jewelry in your trunks. 
Instead, all he has to offer is himself. His strength, his hands, his heart. It’s his own fear that tells him that’s not enough, because you remind him again and again that’s more than you ever wanted. 
He traces the curve of your cheek with the hovering pad of his finger, brushing your hair away from your face. How he ended up so lucky with your love, he’ll never know, but he will spend the rest of his days proving that he’s earned it. 
You stir in your sleep, sensing him above you, and he hates to steal even a few minutes of blissful sleep from you, knowing the endless nights that are coming. When he steals you away from all that you’ve ever known. 
The sleepy grumble in your throat resembles his name as he curls around you, but your eyes remain gently closed. He pulls you against him, the air that leaves your mouth and sits between your chest and his something he covets with his whole heart. 
I love you and I’m disgustingly lucky and I love you. 
He is a man made of dust, serving men made of silver. He is a man of dust, loving a woman made of gold.
El orgullo? No, Abuela, his ranita will get him first, last, and every time.
+
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Translations:
Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana. - This rhyme is typically said to children when they have just hurt themselves. The parent (or grandparent) usually rubs the part that is sore and sings this little tune. Literally translates to: "heal, heal, little frog’s tail. If you don’t heal today, you will heal tomorrow."
el orgullo - pride
dulzura - sweetness, romantic connotation
amorcita - little love, romantic connotation
Tranquila - quiet, as in "be quiet" or "relax"
Cálmate - take it easy, or take it slow
puedo sentir cuanto la quieres - I can feel how much you want it/love it
Órale - okay, or an exclamation expressing approval or encouragement.
ranita - little frog, but you knew that already ;)
the rest are cognates (or familiar words) which you can probably guess the meaning of, but feel free to message me if you don't know!
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luveline · 9 months
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Hey Jade! I was wondering if you could do some Derek Morgan comfort?! Maybe reader who deals with headaches/migraines?
Hope you're having a nice day/night!!💛
thanks lovely, you too!
You're pinching the bridge of your nose pointlessly when Derek and Spencer arrive that morning. 
“D'you guys do a coffee run?” you ask, surprised to see them come in at the same time. 
“We did!” Spencer says, putting a paper cup down in front of you. “I got you a donut, too.” 
“Thanks, honey,” you say, rubbing the hot spot between your brows to no results. Spencer smiles, pleased, and sits at his desk with the bag of donuts to start a napkin dissemination. 
You wrap your hand around the coffee and let it warm your fingers. 
“You okay?” Derek asks. His brows are pinched upwards at the starts but otherwise furrowed. “You don't look happy.” 
“I have a headache,” you admit. Talking is twice as hard with the pain pulsing behind your eyes; you slur. 
“What?” 
What does he mean, what? You look up from the desk in confusion, but he isn't confused like you, he's borderline upset. “It's not that bad,” you say. 
“It looks pretty bad where I'm standing.” 
Derek grabs the back of your chair and turns you toward him, his expression a mirror of your own discontent. He's wearing a short-sleeved shirt that in any other circumstance would draw your attention, and the badge clipped to his shirt is wonky. 
You're in pain, but you like him. You care about him in the weird way that makes you want to make him breakfast and tie his shoelaces. He is not a man that needs coddling, but you can't restrain yourself, reaching for his pocket to right his badge. 
He laughs quietly. “You're squinting.” 
“Pain's in my eyes.” 
“Sweetheart.” He takes your face in one hand and turns it down, away from the harsh office lights. “You're impossible to understand.” 
You laugh but wince when a flame of pain sparks anew. “I think it's travelling. It's in my brain.” 
“That's your second best feature.” 
“Don't make me laugh,” you plead. 
Morgan gives your cheek a rub with his thumb before pulling away. He takes the few steps to his desk and opens the drawer, pulling out a familiar pair of sleek black Ray-ban shades. “Here. Try these on for size,” he says, opening the arms wide. 
You close your eyes, but there's no need. Derek's extremely careful pushing them over your ears and up your nose. 
“Too sunny in here?” Blake asks, bemused as she skirts past with her mug of tea, her baby bump nudging the back of your chair. 
“Poor girl's not feeling good,” Derek answers for you. 
“Poor girl thought you felt sorry for her,” you say, staring at him through the grey lense of his shades. They're immediately helpful. You won't tell him that, though. 
“I pity anybody stupid enough to feel sorry for you, sweetheart.” He hesitates for no more than a second, dropping his hand onto the stretch of your shoulder blade gently. “You take anything for it? Aspirin?” 
“I did,” —your voice wobbles of its own accord, the instability that comes with a pain that has no clear end in sight— “but it hasn't kicked in yet.” 
He rubs your back, pressing his cheek briefly to your forehead in a side-armed hug. “Let me get you a glass of water.” 
“Morgan?” you ask, catching his arm. He waits. “Kiss it better?” 
You say it because you know he'll crack a smile. It's not nice seeing him so worried, and your headache genuinely feels a little better when he laughs. “Don't start with me. I'll do it. You know I will, beautiful.” 
You sink back into your seat and push his sunglasses up. “I'll be here.” 
He leaves to get you a glass of water. While you're waiting, Spencer passes you your donut, which you pick apart and chew on feebly. Distracted, a warm, chaste kiss is pressed to your cheek as a familiar hand places a glass of water in front of you. 
Derek wiggles his eyebrows at you, asking, “Better?” 
“I'm telling Penelope.” You wince as you turn on your monitor. “In a bit. Just as soon as this screen gets less bright.” 
868 notes · View notes
starsoftheeye · 1 month
Text
I'm planning out a Drifting Stars fic rn, so here's a snippet of the first chapter because I need to post something about this fic. This is a first draft so it may change but I'm pretty happy with it for now
“Woah, woah, hey what’s going on? Stanford!”
--------------
Stanley watched, anger melting to fear as his twin brother began to float backwards, as if being pulled by some invisible hand towards the glowing machine
He watched as his brothers face contorted into an expression of fear he had never seen on his face before. All those years, and Stanley had never seen his bother look so afraid. Not like this. Not even as a kid hiding himself from the other kids their age, as a teenager watching him out the window of a house no longer a home, not even just a few minutes prior, so overcome with paranoia that he would think Stanley would ever want to hurt him. No, Ford had never looked so scared in his life, and Stanley had never known a fear like this himself
“Stanley! Stanley, help me!”
“Help me!!”
His brother, his twin brother, was floating away too fast and too slow all at once. His brother, who had grown up with him, who had abandoned him, who had came to him for help when he didn’t know who else to trust, was floating backwards into an oblivion of light, and Stanley felt powerless to do anything
“Oh no, what do I do?”
“What do we do?”
“Stanley! Stanley!”
Ford was thrashing in the air, desperately trying to push himself forward, but to no avail. He kept drifting backwards, and now he was beginning to submerge into the portal, the light around him rippling like he was being lowered into a pool
“Do something!”
“We gotta do something!”
Stan looked around for something, anything that he could use. A rope, a pole, something for Ford to hold onto, to keep him out of whatever hell was on the other side of the portal, but there was nothing he could use. And his brother continued to drift backwards, slowly being consumed by swirling blue light
“Stanley!”
“Grunkle Stan!”
Stan looked at his great-niece, his sweet great-niece who wore hand-made sweaters, and knitted him “Our Hero” banners, who named a pig Waddles and was so excited to start highschool, and he saw the same fear in her eyes as his brother all those years ago
He was held back by more than his own uselessness this time, gravity crushing him into the pipe behind him, keeping him in place, keeping him from running forward, from shutting down the damn portal, keeping him from saving another piece of his world pulled into the unknown back by the same cruel hand that had held his brother
“Grunkle Stan, how do we stop it? How do we save her?” Dippers voice was so far away yet so clear, and yet Stan couldn’t say a word
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen
She was just a kid
It was like 30 years had never passed, and he was still the same piece of shit who couldn’t protect his family
She was looking straight at him, and the look on her face would be burnt into his mind for the rest of this life. Begging him to do something, anything, to help her somehow
“Mabel, grab something! Anything!”
But he couldn’t
“I can’t!”
Goddamn it, he couldn’t do anything
“We gotta shut it down, we gotta shut it down!!”
Curse this stupid gravity, he had to help her!
“I can’t move, dude!”
He couldn’t take losing one more person
“Help me!!”
Not her, please god not her
“Mabel!”
No, no, no!!
“Dipper!!”
Blinding light. Complete silence.
Then everything came crashing down at once. And Mabel was gone
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notiddygxthgf · 1 year
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❛ Talk to me, baby. I'm goin' blind from this sweet, sweet craving, whoa-oh. Let's lose our minds and go fucking crazy. I-I-I-I-I-I keep on hoping we'll eat cake by the ocean. ❜
★ pairings: choso kamo x f!reader
★ synopsis: you and choso find a way to beat the heat.
★ c.w.: sexual tension, PWP, porn without plot, happy ending! au?, idk everyone's happy lol, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, cowgirl in the backseat, creampie, blowjobs, choso has mommy issues lowkey, and the reader caters to them lowkey. dom/sub undertones, choso doesnt know how to deal with his horniness lol, old fashioned, nasty ass sex, just read it you'll love it.
★ a/n: hi baby girls!! I have been holding onto this one for a MINUTE bc I wanted to make sure it's perfect. im doin a lil bit of a kinktober, so send those requests in! I hope u all love it as much as I do. bitchz w mommy issues wya???🗣️🗣️
★ w.c.; 8.6k
masterlist
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CHOSO LOVED THE BEACH. Not for the reason one might normally proclaim such affection for an otherwise family-friendly pastime, but it was a valid reason nevertheless. He used to hate it, actually, especially when Getou and Mahito would drag him out there on the hottest day of the summer for their stupid villain conventions. He was quite comfortable at home in all of his layers. But there was something about the beach these days, something that had him reconsidering his bias. 
Call him classless, call him perverted. Whatever it was, there was this strange pull towards the beach that had him in a chokehold. He just couldn’t quite place it.
“You’re staring,” Megumi remarked.
Choso’s brow quirked. Letting his head loll to the side, teetering just off the edge of his beach chair, he offered the following words to his brother’s friend. “No, I wasn’t.”
He totally was. The way his sun glasses slid down the bridge of his nose as you walked past the two was a dead giveaway. But, shit, you looked too good to be true. You were this pretty little thing, strutting around in a pretty pink bikini, soaking in the rays of sunlight, and you were bringing a drink to your friend, Maki. Looked like a lemonade. Also looked like booze. It could have been anything, in all honesty, he wasn’t looking there. 
If there was a god out there, he hoped they would forgive him for his ravenous gaze. He had always had a little thing for you, if you will, but the moment you had walked onto the beach today he found himself completely enamored by you.
As you bent down to set the drink in the sand, the bottom of your small pink bikini slipped inward, revealing the smooth, sand-dusted skin of your plump little butt. Then you plopped down on the beach towel next to your friend and popped open the bottle of sunscreen.
Choso watched – rather shamelessly – as you sprayed some of it onto you arm, rubbing it in. You held the canister towards your chest at arms length and released some more of the sheer spray onto the skin there. It trickled down, catching the light of the sun, dripping down between your breasts–
A pair of hairy, pale legs obstructed the view. 
“Found a sand dollar,” Spoke none other than the world’s quirkiest little brother, Yuuji Itadori. In a rather fitting slow-pan up to his face, Choso took note of the dorky goggles that he had popped over his eyes. He was shirtless. You would think that the man would have learned that you don’t need to go deep sea diving at the beach by now. “You guys coming?”
Megumi took the words right out of Choso’s mouth. Or, actually, ‘word’ might be more fitting. 
“No.”
“I’ll pass,” Choso sighed, repositioning his sunglasses over his eyes. Silently, of course, he cursed his brother for putting on such a show in front of – what was he talking about? Choso Kamo… letting his desires cloud his love for his brother? He usually wasn’t this bad. “I thought I threw those out on you?”
“I bought new ones,” Yuuji muttered. He practically tore the goggles from his face, sending locks of pink hair standing up in the air. Tossing them to the side, he plopped between Megumi and Choso on the picnic blanket.
“Of course you did,” Megumi, who had, for a brief – but beautiful – moment been alluded into believing his friend had decided to keep his remarkable lack of social awareness to himself, reached into the cooler they had filled earlier that day and produced a much needed refreshment. 
“Hi!”
Choso, Yuuji and Megumi all turned their heads toward the sound.
It was you. His ‘crush’, as Yuuji had embarrassingly called it. And, shit, you looked even prettier up close. Your hair looked so soft. So did your–
He shook the thoughts away. 
“Sorry to bother ‘ya,” You lowered your head apologetically. You extended your arm out towards the three men. Clutched in your small hand was the bottle of sunscreen you had been using before Yuuji had caught Choso’s attention. “My friend is out cold. Could you just get my back for me?”
Choso felt his face grow red at the mere prospect of being so close to you. He had never had the courage to actually reach out and touch you. He felt as if, for some odd reason he didn’t quite understand, his touch would have killed you. You had always been so sweet to him, offering him small talk, refreshments, and friendly jokes when it was just the two of you away from the group.
“Not a problem, Sensei,” Yuuji replied rather quickly. 
He reached for the bottle. Before he could grab it, Megumi jabbed his elbow harshly into the back of Yuuji’s neck.
“Bitch, ow,” He hissed.
The glare Megumi shot him could have been heard from ten miles away. Choso sighed, refraining from shaking his head.
“I think he’s sick. I’ll bring him to the infirmary,” Megumi added quietly, standing up rather abruptly and taking Yuuji with him. 
Yuuji babbled mindlessly the whole way back.
Highschoolers.
Choso looked back to you. Just you. Alone. He felt his hands get all clammy again. He blamed it on the sun. You were holding the bottle expectantly. 
“Uh… I can… I can help, if you’re okay with that,” He looked away, internally kicking himself for fumbling so hard. 
You only tilted your head at him. Your eyes were so pretty, wide open as they lingered over his body, his eyes, his nose. Your gaze was a wildfire spreading over the expanse of his face.
It was then that he realized he was very, very shirtless.
“‘Kay, thanks,” you smiled softly.
As you laid down on the beach blanket, Choso felt his heart race even faster. He could hardly believe this was all happening – hell, part of him wondered if he had overstepped by offering his services to you. The sun beat down on your skin, his head, the sand – he blamed the warmth flooding his face on the weather. 
You were laid on your stomach only a few inches away, completely oblivious to his moral dilemma. 
He took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself while he reached for the bottle of sunscreen you had set onto the blanket beside you. With hands that trembled ever-so-slightly, he uncapped the bottle and squeezed a small amount onto his palm. The sunscreen was cool to the touch – so, not wanting to cause you even the slightest bit of discomfort, he warmed it up between his hands.
He then hesitantly placed his hands on the smooth valley of your upper back. 
You gasped, twitching beneath his palms. 
“Did I hurt you?” He asked quickly, withdrawing his hands.
“No, sorry,” You sighed, shifting on the blanket and then relaxing once more. “Your hands are cold ‘s all.”
Choso felt the blush coming on all over again. He hoped you wouldn’t turn your head back around and see him like this. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, averting his gaze. 
“You’re all good, hot stuff,” You offered. “You can keep going.”
His face burned like hell at your compliment. He knew you were that way with everyone, dropping little ‘babe’s and ‘honey’s to your friends and fellow sorcerers. He wasn’t anything special, anyway. Surely, you weren’t talking to him.
He replaced his hands on your back, touch delicate like your skin would crack if he pressed too hard. He started with broad strokes, making sure to spread the sunscreen across your skin evenly. His fingers splayed out over your warm, soft skin, moving in circles. He massaged the sunscreen into your back with a tenderness that surprised even himself.
He wasn’t sure what this stuff actually did. He had seen some of Yuuji’s Jujutsu friends slather some on earlier. Judging by the name, he assumed it protected them from the sun. From what, though? Could the sun hurt some humans? He didn’t really understand.
“You’re wondering something,” You asked, seemingly sensing his pensiveness by the way his hands slowed. “Ask away.”
Choso bit the skin on the inside of his lip, “This lotion…” he asked, “What does it do?”
“Sunscreen?” You hummed. “It forms a layer over your skin so you don’t get sunburnt.”
“Sunburnt…” He reiterated. 
“Yeah, that shit hurts,” You added. “I’m guessing Itadori never gave you the run-up on beach necessities…?”
“I guess not,” He remarked quietly.
“I can show you how to apply yours if you want,” You said.
Choso’s heart felt like it would burst. “Okay,” he said, pausing slightly. “I’d like that, thanks.”
Then he was back to his job. His hands smoothed over your back, dipping down a little lower until his thumb brushed against the strap of your bikini. He felt suddenly aware of how soft and warm you felt beneath his touch. 
He was dangerously close to the knot in the string that held your whole getup together. He worried for a moment that the dainty bow would come undone – by some strange, supernatural turn of events – despite him making a great effort to move around it. 
Choso’s breath hitched when his finger caught on the string, making the knot snap against your skin. He froze up, heart pounding in his chest, perfectly still over your body. The string felt like a fragile barrier between your warm skin and his cold touch, between your body and the thoughts that raced through his mind.
He wondered if you found him weird and off-putting. His gaze flickered up to your face, leaning over slightly, searching your face for any sign of discomfort. 
But when he looked into your eyes, he found you were looking at him with the same curiosity. You smiled at him, pretty lips forming a reassuring expression, wordlessly encouraging him to keep going. 
Slowly, unsurely, Choso continued his ministrations. He trailed two digits down your spine, stopping at the string. He felt a knot beneath the skin there. He knew sorcerers put themselves through rigorous training. He didn’t doubt that you were feeling sore from the mission you had just come back from a few days ago.
“You’re tense here,” He said quietly.
You turned your head to look at him, “Yeah?” 
“Right here,” He pinpointed the exact area with his knuckles, pressing deep into the tissue. 
In response, you moaned quietly, back shifting beneath his touch. His shorts seemed to get just a little bit tighter. 
Calm down.
“You got magic hands, Choso,” You quipped, though your voice was strained as he passed over the knot a second time. “You could be a masseuse.”
He felt his nerves subside only slightly, though he felt flustered by your words.
You got magic hands.
You could be a masseuse.
Unbeknownst to him, the sensation of his touch created a pleasant tingling beneath your skin. You closed your eyes, letting him take the reins.
Choso continued to work his fingers over your back, feeling the tension slowly melt away beneath his touch. He had used up the last of the sunscreen to cover your lower back, the skin just above your bottom, and he realized his job was done.
“I think that should do it,” He said softly, voice tinged with reluctance as he removed his hands from your back.
You sat up, stretching, turning towards him, eyes sparkling, “Thanks, Cho, you’re a lifesaver.”
You’re a lifesaver.
A shy smile tugged at his lips, “Of course.”
Then, to his surprise, you asked. “You’re sweet. Mind if I sit with you?”
Choso felt his heart skip more than one beat. His eyes widened. He looked at the sand, the shoreline, anything but you. “Sure,” he said.
Smooth, dumbass.
You grinned and pushed yourself up, saying, “I’ll be right back.”
Choso took a moment to collect his thoughts as you left. He was getting ahead of himself. Way ahead of himself. Stll, you had chosen to spend more time with him. You wanted to sit with him. 
Conveniently, only a brief moment after you had stepped away, Megumi returned with Yuuji in tow. Choso quirked a brow at the speed of their return.
“That was quick,” he remarked.
Megumi shrugged, “Took him to get ice cream on the boardwalk instead.”
“You get her number?” Yuuji asked.
“I was doing her a favor,” Choso’s calm facade broke. With wide eyes, he hissed, “Pervert.”
“Dumbass,” Yuuji sucked his teeth.. “Look, tonight’s the night to make a move. When else would you find yourself alone with her like this?”
And before Choso could respond, you came back, holding a speaker in one hand. “I brought snacks!” You smiled.
Some time around sundown, sometime after Getou had summoned up one of his low-grade curses to start a fire, the beach day transformed itself into a fireside chat. It was a picturesque scene. The sky was a canvas of blue, with hues of pink and orange painted over the horizon. It was mostly empty there, now. The waves lapped calmly at the shore, a quiet noise that seemed to accompany the quiet chatter of friends gathered around a fire.
There was laughter, groups of people indulged in conversations. Everyone seemed so calm, so happy, it almost seemed to good to be true.
Megumi and Itadori were caught in a cock-off with Maki. Nobara stargazing on her and Maki’s beach blanket. Gojo and Getou were talking in his direction, but not necessarily at him.
“I just think you have an unfair drinking advantage because you’re a man,” You were saying just off to Choso’s side.
The mood was light. Everyone seemed to be content. 
Choso, however, couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from you. The warm, fading sunlight seemed to caress your features from the side, highlighting your pretty smile and making your eyes shimmer. He found himself completely and utterly enamored by you.
You and Getou had cracked open a bottle of Tequila about an hour ago. Getou’s boyfriend long-term-long-distance-low-commitment-casual-boyfriend, Satoru Gojo was red in the face, slouched against the bare chest revealed by Getou’s unbuttoned floral shirt. 
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Gojo chuckled, letting Getou top off his fourth shot of the night.
Getou denied any relationship with Gojo. Their eyes betrayed them, though. The connection was evident in the loving glances they exchanged. 
You had a faint flush of your own, though you had only taken two shots so far.
He tried two of his own, only because you didn’t want to do them alone. He had never been big on drinking. He just didn’t want to seem like a pussy.
“Why don’t you pour me one so we can test that theory?” Nobara nudged you in the side.
Choso watched the scene unfold with mild interest.
“Because you’re a minor,” You said.
Nobara pouted, leaning back onto her blanket. “Not like I’ve never drank before.”
Maki chimed in over her shoulder, “Got vomit stains on my carpet to prove it.”
“Shut up,” She bit back. 
You handled the situation effortlessly. “I don’t condone teen drinking,” You began, your voice softening as you continued, “But. I know the four you will probably go hit up one of those beachside bars tonight with your fake IDs anyway.”
“Fake IDs?” Gojo looked at Megumi out of the corner of his eye. Megumi did not look back.
You clapped. Choso’s ears perked up at the sound.
“That being said!” You raised your voice a bit. “I would rather you drink something less potent. Under adult supervision.”
You turned to Getou and Gojo, who exchanged knowing glances before nodding their approval. Choso couldn’t help but be impressed.
“So who wants a Malibu rum spritzer?” You clasped your hands together.
Excitement rippled through the group, and all of the kids, yes all of the kids, Including Yuuji, eagerly raised their hands. 
Choso shot his brother a disapproving glare, one that dissipated the moment you leaned in, laying your head on his shoulder. Your voice, soft and smooth like your skin, enticed him as you sing-songed, “Let the kid live a little.”
It was rather remarkable, actually, how quickly his defenses melted at your gentle persuasion. He sighed in resignation. “Alright.”
You grinned up at him, effortlessly stealing his breath away. 
“Great,” you said, getting up from your spot without another word. “I’ll go get them from my car. Don’t wait up for me, I walk real slow.”
Turning your attention back to Choso, you looked at him with a warmth behind your gaze he couldn’t quite place. “Choso, sweetie, could you help me carry the cooler?”
His heart soared at your request – at the prospect of you wanting his assistance. He got to his feet quickly, eager to help. 
The sand felt cool beneath his feet as he followed your lead. 
The moon hung low in the sky as you and Choso strolled through the parking lot, searching for your jeep. The temperature had dropped quite a few notches from earlier, cold breeze rustling through Choso’s hair. 
When you spotted your ride, you said, “There it is!”
Choso followed wordlessly behind you. He was still quite nervous that – for the second time today – it was just you and him… alone. Yuuji’s words echoed through his mind.
“When else would you find yourself alone with her like this?”
You popped the door to the backseat open, sitting on the floor – your truck was raised a bit off the ground, so it didn’t put you too far below him. 
“My legs are so fucking sore,” You sighed. You dusted your leg off with the backside of your bare foot. When you peered up at him through those long, dense lashes of yours, he felt himself fall for you a second time. 
You asked him, “Mind if we take a little break?”
Choso nodded along like the dumb little dog he was for you.
You pushed yourself up and away from the truck, gesturing for him to get inside. It didn’t take much at all for him to step into it and take a seat. You settled in right next to him – perhaps a little closer to Choso than was strictly necessary. He couldn’nt help the pleasant shiver that went down his spine at the feeling of you sitting next to him; so warm, so soft, so perfect.
You let out a contented sigh and leaned your head on his shoulder once more. “I got tired of bein’ social,” You confessed.
He tried hard not to quirk a brow at the admission. Am I an exception?
“Do you want me to leave you alone?” He asked sincerely. He tried even harder to ignore the warm weight of your small head on his shoulder.
So close.
“No,” You hummed quietly. The interior light faded away, gently submerging the two of you in darkness. He could still see your face, your eyes – the way they seemed to sparkle as they looked up at him. “You’re different.”
Choso’s heart took the liberty of skipping one, two, three beats. 
You continued without allowing him time to come up with an adequate response. “Can I be honest with you, Choso?”
His cheeks flushed. Still, curiosity piqued, he muttered, “Of course.”
Your voice was soft and vulnerable when you replied, “I think you’re really hot.”
If his face wasn’t hot, it sure was now. He turned away even though he knew you couldn’t see him blushing. 
She thinks I’m hot?
Does that mean she likes me?
You had nothing but sincerity in your eyes while you gazed up at him. “You feel the same way, don’t you?”
He bit his tongue, answering honestly, “I do.”
He hated how calm and collected he sounded. On the outside, he was the image of composure. On the inside, he was dying a hundred times over. 
You grinned at his admission. “Can I ask you something else, then?”
His lips suddenly felt very dry. He tried his best to focus on the street outside, counting landmarks and objects like his life depended on it – two seagulls, five wooden posts, two dim street lights.
“Sure,” he said.
“Can I kiss you?” You asked. “I’ve been thinking about it all day.”
And, dammit, when you asked him like that – he could practically feel the last of his resolve crumble beneath your gaze, beneath the weight of your head on his shoulder, beneath your gentle touch on his knee that he hadn’t noticed until now.
You were so close. So close that if he turned his head, angled it down just slightly, your noses would touch. He felt your breath, warm and steady against his neck – a calming symphony that contrasted the trembling mess he had become,
Yuuji’s words played on repeat again. Tonight’s the night to make a move.
He was such a fool for you. Still, he considered himself to be a man of restraint.
His voice was small and scarce, hardly above a whisper when he breathed out, “Yeah.”
Time seemed to slow down as your request hung out in the air. He could feel the anticipation building, buzzing. His heart pounded against his ribcage like a mallet to a gong. He had spent months wondering what would happen if you – by some odd, small chance – returned his affections, and now, with your vulnerability laid bare, he couldn’t resist any longer.
He considered himself to be a man of restraint, that was, until he peered into your wide, longingful eyes. 
With a barely noticeable nod, Choso turned his head just slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. Just as he had anticipated, your noses brushed together – he could feel the warmth of your breath on his lips. 
You were magnetic.
And in that final, heart-pounding moment, your lips met in the middle – in a gentle, tender union. Choso’s hand seemed to find its own way to your cheek, touch soft as he cupped your cheek. He felt for some odd reason that you might vanish altogether if he let you go.
He wasn’t entirely sure if it had been you or him who deepened the kiss. Either way, he felt himself melt into the seat. The world outside seemed to fade away, ceasing to exist in your presence. None of it mattered – not the empty, public street, not the group of friends waiting on the beach for his return.
Yuuji. 
Choso pulled away with a shuddering gasp, pressing his forehead against yours. He licked his lips, panting, “The drinks… We– we should probably– uh… get those.”
He feared that if his heart beat any faster he would explode.
You made no effort to put any distance between you and him. In fact, you put your hands on his shoulders, moving yourself so that you were situated comfortably in his lap. 
“There’s no rush,” You hummed. “Getou and Gojo are probably off sucking face somewhere, and those kids have been keeping themselves entertained just fine. Who would notice?”
His eyes were everywhere but your face. For a half-curse, he found himself to be no better than a man, hungry eyes wandering over your body – your eyes, your lips, the subtle curve of your waist, the fabric of your bikini that seemed like it was hugging you just right.
You seemed to have caught him in the act. 
“Do you wanna touch me, Choso?” You asked, and it sounded like an invitation.
Still, he worried he was reading too deeply into things. Doing his best to refrain from making you feel any sort of discomfort, he swallowed, “I…”
He was about to fucking explode – both metaphorically and physically, judging by the way his shorts began to tighten again at your words.
“You think I didn’t see you staring today?” You continued, letting your fingers slip into his hair. 
He wanted to freeze up, wanted to feel some form of remorse, but when you were massaging his scalp so gently, so lovingly…
“I’m  sorry,” he lied.
“Don’t be,” You giggled, and he felt his stomach do a fucking flip at the sound of it. You leaned in close to him, close to his ear, and whispered into it, “I was staring, too.”
He felt like such a virgin, thighs tensing up at your admission. He thought of you on the beach again – sneaking sideways glances at him, at his body, at him…
He felt his resolve break when you pressed a soft kiss to the shell of his ear. 
“Kiss– Kiss me again,” he breathed, feeling slightly lightheaded from all of the attention you were giving him. You placed another kiss to the corner of his jaw. “Please… kiss me again.”
You pulled away, pressing your nose right up against his again. Your breaths were shallow and ragged now – strange. “You want me, baby boy?”
Baby boy. Baby boy, fuck.
He licked his lips, “Please.”
And then your lips were on his without so much as another word. You ate him up like a starved woman, teeth nipping at his lower lip for entry.
The last of his restraint flew out the window.
The kiss was electrifying, sent sparks shooting through his veins, fingertips tingling as they found their way to your hips. It was a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. He could taste you – the sweetness of your lipgloss as it smeared messily over the lower half of his face, the beat of your heart thrumming beneath his touch, the scent of sunscreen that lingered on your skin.
He found himself getting lost in the moment.
He deepened the kiss further, gripping your hips, your lower back with a bit more confidence. For a moment, he could forget about his responsibilities, his past. It didn’t matter; not now, not when he could feel your body pressed up against him, hot and soft and compliant.
His face burned when he felt that familiar tingling feeling – he knew he was getting hard beneath you, he could feel the way your hips lifted when you adjusted yourself over the tent in his shorts. 
However, to his surprise, you didn’t pull away. Instead, you pressed into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing yourself even closer. He felt dizzy, sliding his tongue across your wet lips, exploring your mouth. You tangled your fingers in his touseled black locks, rolling your hips against his slowly, hesitantly, like you were testing the waters. 
The jolt of electricity he felt from that small movement had him pulling away. Even in the midst of the fervor, Choso was acutely aware of his own impulses. He feared he was getting too far ahead of himself; if you kept rubbing yourself against him like that, he was gonna cream his fucking pants like a middle schooler.
“Wait, wait– ah–” He grunted, leaning back against the seat.
“Hmm?” You hummed – still, you only slowed down a little bit.
His mouth hung open. It felt so good, the friction, the feeling of your warmth rolling up and down the thin layer of fabric separating the two of you. Fuck — why did he tell you to stop, again?
He fought hard to regain his composure. “I– I’ve never done this before,” he stammered.
“Really?” You asked, teasingly, almost, like you knew the effect you had on him. You rutted up against him again, a little harder. “You’re a natural.”
He could feel you – the thin cloth covering your nether regions left little to the imagination. You felt so warm, so welcoming. He ached to pull the thin fabric to the side and sink into you.
Fuck. Stop. He turned his head away, at war with his impulses.
Again, for a half-curse, he felt like nothing more than a man. A weak man, and it was all your fault.
The whine that left his mouth felt anything but natural. “Won’t– What if someone sees us?”
You said nothing. When he looked back at you, you were undoing the knot behind your head – the one holding your bikini together.
His eyes went wide. If his attraction to you were any more obvious, his jaw would have been on the floor. 
“Let them watch,” You grinned. Then you let your top fall over, breasts spilling out like something out of a porno. 
He was in awe. You were perfect. There were little bits of sand stuck to the skin where your bikini lay only seconds prior, faint tanlines already forming over your skin. He felt his mouth water.
“You can touch them, if you want,” You answered his unasked question.
And he wasted no time, gently cupping one of your tits with his large, warm palm. He gave it an experimental squeeze. Then another. Then his thumb wandered down to your nipple, giving the bud a gentle flick.
You whind, hand sliding up the back of his head. 
She likes that, he noted.
So, deciding to take his experiment a step further – and for the sake of conserving time, he began peppering kisses to your hot skin, to the valley between your soft, plush mounds. He held both in his hands, rolling his thumb over the hardened buds to compensate for the lack of attention.
He wanted nothing more than to take his sweet, precious time with you – committing every curve and valley of your body to memory. But, alas, he knew you were on a time crunch. Any minute now, someone could find the two of you here, like this.
He kissed his way back over to his hands. Then, finally, he wrapped his lips around that place he knew made you feel good. 
Sure enough, you arched into him, pink, swollen lips parting to release a pant of his name, “Choso, baby.”
He flattened his tongue over the tip of your nipple, rolling over it in slow circles – then quicker ones, until he felt the spit gathering between his lips and your skin. You responded in kind by rutting against him a little faster. He had never felt a burn quite so delightful in his life.
He can’t quite help himself from letting out a little whine when you tug on his hair. The flavor of sunscreen and salt lingered on your skin. He felt hot– you were hot, oh so hot.
Before he could return the favor on the other nipple, you pushed him away. You looked disheveled, pupils blown wide, hair frizzed up.
“Y’feel so big,” You gasped, still humping his hard cock like a dog in heat. You stopped, but only to sink into the space between his legs and the back of the driver’s seat. Splaying your fingers over his thighs, his shorts, you panted, “Wanna taste. Can I?”
He could only blink up at you. This isn’t real.
“Of course, baby,” He replied, throwing the nickname from earlier back at you, already reaching for the strings of his swim trunks when you batted his hands away. Your enthusiasm made his head spin.
He let you take the reigns – watching with hungry, lustful eyes as you undid the bow yourself. You reached for the waistband of his shorts, tugging them down and letting his dick spring free. 
It nearly hit you in the face, how big the thing was. He had never actually thought about it that way, at least, not until now, when you were gazing up at it with wide eyes and wet, parted lips. 
Your eyes were on his tip, glistening with a bead of precum, then wandering down the shaft as the two of you watched it drip.
“Are you sure about this?” He asked.
You didn’t bother pulling his pants the rest of the way down, or even acknowledging his comment. No, the moment the waistband was out of the way, you were swallowing him whole.
Choso exhaled sharply, nearly doubling over at the sensation of your warm mouth closing in around him. He felt the muscles in his abdomen tense with the strain of it – he thought he could cum like this, with your lips stretched around him, and he didn’t really think he would mind testing that theory.
His skin was hot. He burned for you.
You pulled up. Sucking him back into your mouth, you hollowed your cheeks. Then you throated him again, right up until your nose brushed his navel. He felt himself throb in your mouth.
“Fuck, ‘s good,” He heard himself whimper weakly, tangling a trembling hand in your hair while you picked up the pace.
And you went at it like you were made for it. Up and down, up and down, fitting him all the way in until the head of his cock bumped the back of your throat. Over and over again, until his vision blurred a bit at the edges, mind a little hazy with lust.
You were sucking and slurping on him so lewdly – fuck, he could die like this. 
You didn’t show any signs of stopping, either.
He moaned – much to his embarrassment – actually moaned. You were working him rather quickly up to what he knew would be an earth shattering (albeit poorly timed) orgasm. 
You made a noise in response, though it was broken up by the nasty, dirty sound you made every time you gagged on his dick. You peered up at him through half-lidded eyes, through long, wispy lashes, leaving a trail of saliva running down his thighs that he didn’t even mind.
Choso caressed the side of your face, biting his lip. “Mmh,” he panted, “You do it so well.”
In response, you put a hand over his. You directed his gentle touch to the top of your head, instructing him to push down. Hesitantly, gently, he began to guide your head, bobbing you back and forth on his length while you sat back and let him use you. 
He noticed that you were struggling to fit the whole thing in your mouth. He saw that there were tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but he knew you were determined. He used his thumb to wipe your tears away, tucking your hair behind your ears to keep it out of your face.
With a shudder and a whine, he pushed your head down a little further. You gagged on it again, swallowing him down, tightening your throat around him like you were made to suck dick.
If this was to be his last night alive, he would die a happy man.
His legs felt weak, as did his arms. You took over, gently assisting him in fucking your mouth. 
“Ah– nnh, you’re–” He licked his lips, guiding your head while allowing you to continue setting your own pace. You were making him feel so good, so hot.
You pulled back for a moment to slurp unceremoniously on his tip, letting spit drip down his shaft. You wrapped your hands around him, working what you couldn’t fit into your mouth while your tongue did tricks on his tip – circles, shapes, letters, he didn’t even know anymore.
He felt like he was going dumb.
Just as he leaned his head back into the seat, you pulled off, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 
“Got carried away,” You giggled breathlessly. “Sorry.”
Then you were climbing right back into his lap, bracing your hands on his shoulders, kissing him with a ravenous hunger. 
“I’m not gonna blue ball you, don’t worry,” You licked your lips. Reaching down, you slipped the fabric of your bikini thong to the side. “I want you.”
“H–...” He trailed off, fighting to catch his breath – better yet, to regain his surroundings. “How do you want me?”
In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to feel you sink down onto him, to feel your warmth envelop him entirely. He wanted you to ride him past the point of hypersensitivity. He wanted you to use him until you were satisfied – like some sort of fuck toy.
He didn’t care anymore. He had left his inhibitions at the door. 
“Wanna fuck you right here, like this,” You muttered against his lips, licking a stripe from his chin all the way to his cupid’s bow. You guided the head of his dick between your folds, smearing your slick all over him in a way that made him arch up. “Wanna drain that pretty cock of yours, wanna cum all over it– can you do that for me?”
You were so nasty… so dirty that he found himself a red, blushing mess at your words. But, still…
For you?
Anything.
“Yes,” he groaned. He felt like he was going to melt if he waited another moment longer. “Fuck, please, use me until you’re satisfied.”
He hadn’t even thought about saying it. It had slipped out.
You paused, blinking down at him with wide, lustful eyes. Finally, you said, “you’re such a good puppy, you know that?”
He would be whatever the hell you wanted him to be.
“G’nna let me ride you, pretty boy?” You cooed, sliding your hands up his torso, up his bare chest, up his shoulders while you hovered over him. 
This was moving quickly. Not like he had any objections to that, of course. Clearly, you didn’t either. As you positioned the tip in line with your dripping cunt, sinking down onto him, he felt his eyes roll back into his head.
He gasped, letting his eyelids fall shut. He didn’t even care that he was losing his virginity in the backseat of his coworker’s truck like some cheap whore. He would let you take it, take more, take everything you wanted from him.
You lifted your hips and then sank down on him again, eliciting a strangled grunt of your name from him. The filthy squelching sound your cunt made as it squeezed him in threw him for a loop.
He leaned forward, shivering, burning his head in your neck. “S’too tight,” he panted, though he let you continue working on him with a remarkable amount of ease – sliding back and forth in a way that had the both of you panting for more. “Fucking– shit, ah–”
“Chosooo– ‘S so big,” You moaned his name like it was made of honey, fucking yourself down onto his dick, letting all of the sinful noises flow from your lips. “Fuck, feel it in my guts.”
He would have thought you were lying to him if it weren’t for your spectacle earlier.
“You’re fucking perfect,” he breathed. When he looked up at you again, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. You were the image of pornographic beauty – sinful, beautiful, sultry. Your brows were scrunched together with concentration, legs trembling around him as you slowed down to savor the way he worked you open.
“Pretty baby,” He mused, running his hands over your stomach, your hips. “You keep goin’ like that ‘n– fuck– I won’t– Last long.”
“Mmh,” you giggled.
Then you picked up the speed a bit, like you hadn’t even heard what he had just said. You were rising and sinking on his dick with newfound purpose, chasing after the promise of paradise like a wild animal.
“Look at me,” he begged, eyes half-lidded and desperate, tongue running across his lower lip. “Fu-uck– please, ‘M...”
You obeyed, meeting his gaze with such a fiery passion that he almost wished he hadn’t asked you – feeling that coil in his gut grow a little tighter when your hazy eyes were on him. You bounced obediently on his cock, up and down, up and down until you were a grunting, groaning mess. 
“Mm… fuckkk,” You sighed, hips faltering a bit. “Feels good, Choso.”
Choso felt his hips twitch beneath you, hands tensing on your backside. Then, slowly, he began to meet your thrusts midway. His ass lifted off of the seat, legs spreading a bit further apart while he used his strength to continue fucking you senseless.
He was mesmerized by you, by the way you clenched and squeezed him, by the way your mouth lolled open to make way for broken cries of his name, by the way your tits bounced in his face whenever he thrusted up into you.
He worried for a moment that he was being too harsh with you. 
“Harder– please!” You gasped, clawing at his shoulders, at his chest.
Still, he obeyed. He fucked you dumb, hips snapping up against your ass with such strength that the whole car lurched forward. Your head came dangerously close to the ceiling.
But he didn’t have the guts to stop. Not when you were screaming for him, repeating his name like some sort of mantra. He was as weak for you as he had always been.
“Choso– Choso–”
The feeling of your warm, wet walls massaging the head of his cock had him whimpering into the crook of your neck. It was a hot, gummy abyss he wouldn’t mind getting sucked into for the remainder of his life. 
“You like that?” He asked you, spare hand sliding up from your hips, past your breasts, to your neck. 
He knew now that you liked it rough. He could provide that. 
So, with no further warning, he gripped your hip roughly, sliding into you at full force. You cried out his name again, fingernails digging into his skin. 
The car bounced every time he pounded up into you. Faster, faster. 
It felt like you were squeezing him for dear life. 
Choso cried out, a broken whine as he slowed his thrusts for a minute to a much slower pace. Feeling your perfect pussy clenching around him, he nearly doubled over from the sudden pleasure. “Please,” he gasped, laying his head back. “Fuck, that’s good.”
You bit your lip, sliding up until it was just the tip left inside of you, and then slamming back down onto him at full force. You repeated this action a few more times, lips parted to make way for the sinful… sultry moans that passed from between them. Clearly, you were relishing in the way he squirmed and gasped beneath you.
He couldn’t blame you. He knew that he, too was doing everything he could to commit this scene to memory, wild eyes raking over your body, over the junction where you met him. The way you were riding him… shit, he didn’t know he would be able to make the walk back. 
You looked so obscene like this, all fucked out, dumb on his dick.
Throwing your head back, you groaned.
He was gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. Fuck, he knew that– cursed strength and all. But he couldn’t bring himself to slow down.
“So f-fucking good,” he stammered. He sought out your lips again, snapping his hips up against your ass mercilessly. For someone who had been so concerned about being discovered a little while ago, his quiet grunts and gasps turned into moans and whimpers against your sore lips. Louder and louder.
Admittedly, though, he was more focused on the noises coming out of your own mouth. You were practically screaming for him.
He had no idea that sex could even feel so mind-numbingly good. For him, especially, but for you…?
You froze up rather suddenly, hips spasming wildly, toes curling up on either side of his thighs while you gasped brokenly. 
“FUCK!”
There it was.
He felt his face burn. You cried his name again, bouncing up and down on it, wildly chasing after that high. “Choso– m’close–”
“You gonna cum, pretty girl?” He hummed, once again throwing your nickname back at you. He grinned, knowing full and well that he had cracked the code. So he kept that same speed, same pace, same everything while his fingers dropped from your neck to the mess you had made between the two of you.
He knew what to do now – surprisingly enough. He had done some… internet research after his brother had broken the meaning of his feelings down to him (along with what Choso was to do when his crush came to fruition). 
What? Curses didn’t make love. Sex was transactional.
He was curious about how sex was on the human side of things.
He ran his tongue over his thumb, reaching between the steamy, sweaty union of your bodies to find your clit. He pressed down, rolling over the nub in quick, expert circles. 
One look up at you, and he knew you were close to your breaking point. You looked like you were about to pass out, letting yourself be thrown around on his wild hips like a ragdoll. You were too weak to move, so you sat there and took his dick like a good girl, eyes glazed over with pleasure while he fucked you dumb.
You looked like you were in love.
Choso sped his ministrations over your clit up a little faster, feeling the knot in his own stomach begin to grow faster than he wanted. He was in another world, out of this plane, hypnotized. 
All he could see in that moment was your angelic face above him, face scrunched up in pleasure – and partially in pain, as he bullied his cock into your cervix – sweat rolling down your neck, your breasts, your voluptuous body.
“Mine–” You gasped out, clawing at his shoulder blades while your back arched. “Oh– fuck! Th’s dick ‘s mine, mmh?”
It was.
He nodded. But, clearly, that wasn’t good enough. Your hand shot out to grip him by the neck, painted fingernails digging into his throat. 
“‘S yours,” He gasped back into your mouth. “All yours, I swear– ah–”
You were so hot. It made him feel things– feel like he was dying over and over again in the best way possible.
That along with the way your hand gripped his throat – using your small thumb to cut off his blood supply for a few seconds too long before loosening your grip, letting him gasp for air as the blood came rushing back – he felt lightheaded.
The way your pussy was spasming around him certainly didn’t do anything to help. He knew you were close, shit, but could you hold on a minute?
You were gonna make him cum too fast.
“You’re mine, yeah?” You asked again, keeping your grip strong on his neck. “All mine?”
“M’yours,” The cursed womb grunted against your neck. His brows were furrowed in concentration. His teeth nipped at the sensitive skin, careful not to leave marks. “All yours.”
He meant it. Even though he would have said anything you asked him to at this point, he really meant it. He hoped you knew that.
Judging by the way you came a moment later with a stutter of your hips and a strangled cry of, “Cho–”, he assumed you understood. 
Your cunt was a warm, wet, death trap, walls milking his cock for all it was worth. 
Shit, he thought. You really weren’t lying about that.
His dark eyes were burning into yours, burning with a desire so intense he felt he might burst at the seams if he kept looking a moment longer. 
“Want you to cum inside of me,” You commanded him, holding his head in your trembling hands. “Fill me up, please, I need it.”
His eyes widened, blinking down at the white ring you had made around the base of his dick. His eyes flitted back up to you, pleading with you to let him go. Pleading for you to give the soul that you stole from him back,
“I can’t–” he released a trembling breath.  
He thought of himself as a father raising a child. Right now, it didn’t seem so bad.
“Please, ‘m on the pill,” you begged him, gazing into his eyes like you knew he wasn’t strong enough to refuse. “Wanna feel it dripping out of me. Think about it– what– ah– what would they think? … If they knew–”
You gasped when he delivered a harsh smack to your ass, slowing his strokes so that he could savor the way you sucked him in. “If they knew we snuck off to fuck? That– that I had your cum dripping out of me while they ask what took us so long?”
“Fuckk,” Choso groaned, hips trembling beneath you. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, cheeks burning. His breaths – and yours – had fogged the windows up.
You squeezed around him one more time, placing a tender kiss to his lips. You muttered into his mouth, “Do it f’me… please, Choso.”
“Mmh–!” And that was all it took. Choso rolled his hips up into you one more time, twitching, whining, feeling your warmth spasm around him as he spilled into you. He drove as deep up into you as he could – holding onto you for dear life while the coil snap, and he came so hard that his legs gave out. Lots of it. 
So much that he felt it drip out.
You sought another kiss from him, sealing your lips together. When you pulled away, you giggled, “Good boy. Good puppy.”
“God,” he shuddered, falling back against the headrest once his orgasm subsided. You fell against his chest, snuggling up to him.
And Choso, not knowing what else to do, pressed a kiss to the top of your head. To his surprise, you didn’t immediately leave him in the dust. Instead, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, basking in the warmth of your post-coital bliss. 
You broke the silence after a minute or two. 
“So…” You began, trailing a finger up his bare chest. “Help me carry that cooler back to the beach?”
And Choso, breathless, felt himself begin to laugh.
The two of you came back onto the beach. Choso was carting the cooler behind while you walked ahead, waving your friends down. 
As you approached, Itadori remarked with crossed arms, “The hell have you guys been?” His hair was done up into two, pink, little pigtails. It was clear as day that Nobara had a hand in his current hairstyle.
“Oh!” You had grinned rather awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck with your hand. “We– Well, we realized we didn’t have as many spritzers as I thought. Had to make a run to the liquor store.”
Itadori raised a brow. Still, if he noticed something, he didn’t say anything about it. “Uh huh.”
Choso bent down to set the cooler onto the ground, back turned to the group.
Getou peeped up from his paperback novel, lips twitching at the sight of Choso’s back. He nudged his counterpart, Gojo.
Who nearly spat out his drink.
You sat on the beach blanket nearest to Gojo and Getou. The moment your butt hit the sand, you practically collapsed into the ground. 
You could feel eyes on you. So, begrudgingly, you rolled over, throwing Satoru a weak glare. “What?”
He only nodded towards Choso.
You turned around, following his gaze. It settled over his back. He bent down, picking a few spritzers out of the ice. It was then that you noticed the harsh red claw marks on his shoulderblades. 
Subconsciously, your gaze drifted down to your hips, to the skin where purple imprints of Choso’s fingertips stood out as clear as day.
You gasped, then, clamping a hand over your mouth.
“So,” Gojo began casually, handing you a shot. He leaned in, ocean blue eyes twinkling as he teased you, “Was he gentle? He seems like he would give it rough.”
You turned to his not-boyfriend, brows furrowed. “Suguruuu…”
It was with no great amount of satisfaction that Getou looked up from his novel. “Satoru,” he sighed languidly. “Not in front of ths kids.”
Gojo ignored his not-boyfriend’s remark. “Was it big?”
You sank back into the blanket, feeling the heat of your embarrassment burn your cheeks as your words from earlier came back to bite you in the ass.
Who would notice?
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a/n: hello there my precious little sugarplums! I hope u enjoyed the first installment of my kinktober writings ( which will prob continue throughout the fall bc I started hella late ). send in requests! there's no part two to this, but I would write one if enough ppl requested it. yk the drill though, comment ur thoughts/wishes below! I love reading them. reblogs are alway always always appreciated bc my reach is ass on Tumblr...
I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.
credits: cover artist(s) unknown??, dividers: @bpdier, @cafekitsune
taglist: @missphanosaur18 , @bontensbabygirl, @megumissunshine, @chocoyanchan, @littlelovebug98, @lucisimpongod, @xochyw, @jaegerstan222 , @electro-supremacy, @mellytheteddy, @clover0310 , @soraya-daydreams, @priussy, @insanehumantinker, @staygoldsquatchling02, @nonksity, @hinata7346, @chososwhoresblog, @mindurownbussines , @hearts4sid , @simplefools , @ynjimenez
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Vacation: Part Three
PART ONE PART TWO
Pairing :: OPLA!Sanji x fem!Reader
Warnings :: 18+ Content, NSFW/SMUT, Semi-Exhibitionist(under the table deal), Light Fingering, Sex
Word Count ::  3,469
Summary :: Sanji is finally reunited with you
A/N :: A more perverted pathetic Sanji because GODDAMN. That is all and I am sorry if this feels a bit rushed- Thank you all for your support!
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“Sanji?” You asked quietly, almost afraid that if you spoke louder, you’d be waking up from some sort of hyper-realistic dream.
His stunned expression quickly shifted into a joyous smile. He ran up to you, scooping you up in his arms and twirling the two of you in the air.
“(Y/N)! I missed you so much!" He cried out. "Your beautiful voice! Your perfect smile! The way your nose scrunches up when I say something annoying! I've missed it all!" He put you down but kept his hands on your arms. "Especially the way your boo-"
WHAMP! A wooden staff came slamming down on his head, nearly knocking him to the ground.
"Sanji, how many times have Robin and I told you to quit going around harassing women!" A redhead lady showed up behind him, followed by a black-haired one and a green-haired man. She gave you an apologetic smile as the man stepped forward to pick Sanji up. "I'm sorry about him, miss. He's a flirt and can get carried away when he sees a pretty lady sometimes."
You laughed awkwardly, cheeks flaring up due to memories from the past. "Oh trust me, I know how heart-eyed he can get."
The women each raised their brows, surprised by your comment. The man didn't seem to care, instead being preoccupied by holding Sanji back. He was holding him with one arm and covering his mouth with the other, his voice being muffled by his friend. Sanji was clearly upset; he couldn't explain that you weren't a random stranger he decided to hit on.
"Do you know each other?" The dark-haired woman asked.
You nodded, eyes moving past them and over to the blond. "We know each other quite well actually. I guess you could call us special friends."
The man released him. He walked back up to you, muttering under his breath about how the green man smelled. 
His mood seemed to pick up once his focus was back on you. He reached a hand up to brush your hair behind your ear, the tips of his fingers grazing past your cheeks. He didn't pull his hand away after resting it on your shoulder. He couldn't say it at the moment with his friends around, but he missed how you felt in his hold.
"How are you, darling?" He asked in his usual charming voice.
You smiled warmly up at him. “Happy to see you’ve made yourself some new friends.”
“They’re my crewmates. Don’t get too scared now, but,” He leaned down close to your ear, “I’m a pirate.”
His hot breath hitting your ear sent a familiar tingle down your spine and your fading blush intensified.
He backed away, quickly introducing you to the three before you, all the while rubbing a small circle into your shoulder with his thumb. Nami, the redhead, was their navigator, Robin, the tallest, was their archeologist, and Zoro, the greenhead, was their first mate. Sanji, naturally, was the crew’s cook. They had ported into town for a quick stay, leaving the day after tomorrow.
“So, do you think I could stay at your place tonight?” The question was so sudden, you almost didn’t know how to answer in front of his friends.
“Oh, erm, I wouldn’t mind it. I’ll need to get a few more ingredients then to make sure I have enough for both of us,” You mumbled, attention finally returning to the vegetables you had come to purchase.
“Sanji, it’s rude to suddenly ask someone if you can stay with them, especially if you didn’t give them a heads-up in advance,” Nami scolded.
“I don’t mind!” You were quick to defend him. “It’s no trouble at all, especially since we have so much to catch up on. In fact, I wouldn’t mind having you three over for dinner as well.”
“Really?” All four of the pirates asked in sync.
Sanji seemed to be a bit annoyed, while the other three were genuinely surprised by your hospitality. You reassured the lot that it was fine, especially since you could easily get all the extra ingredients you needed since you were already in the market. Zoro was the only one to decline the offer and instead offered to break the news to their captain that Sanji wouldn’t be cooking dinner for them tonight, so they'd have to find someplace to grab grub.
-
On the walk back to your home with Sanji and the other ladies, you started a small conversation with Robin and Nami.
“So, (Y/N), what do you do for work?” Robin asked.
“I work for Greylock Trading, a merchant company.”
“I’ve heard of Greylock Trading when I was a kid,” Nami said. “They used to come by my hometown to buy tangerines.”
You nodded. “That was in the early days. Greylock started with basic produce eventually moving up to luxury goods like fine silks or rare paints.”
“You must get to see a lot of interesting places working for such an impressive merchant.”
“I did.” Your smile fell a bit at Robin’s comment. “Long story short, a few years ago, Greylock fell ill and the captain of his ship retired so he could take care of him. Ever since, we’ve downsized considerably and just work from here.”
You could feel Sanji’s hand squeeze yours. “Is that why you never came back to Baratie?” 
“Yes. Greylock asked me to stay and help him restructure the business. He and Captain Tommy are father figures to me, so it was near impossible for me to decline, despite how much it saddened me to stop traveling. Now that everything’s settled with the business though I’ve found myself feeling a bit melancholy as of late.”
Greylock and Captain Tommy had tried to convince you to join a different crew so you could travel once more, but you refused. You didn’t want to leave them behind to join a brand new crew full of strangers. It didn’t feel right to you.
“All she ever talked about when we were together was traveling and all the different places she had been to and all the different places she was excited to see,” Sanji explained to his friends. Quickly, he then whispered to you, “At least, that’s when you weren’t a babbling mess.”
You quickly hit his shoulder, embarrassed that he’d make such a comment in front of others.
His teasing behavior didn’t end there.
When you got back to your place, he helped you in the kitchen while the girls made themselves comfortable in your living room. Your kitchen was small, but one would think it was cramped with how Sanji was acting. Whenever you were trying to grab something from one of the cabinets, he’d come up from behind you conveniently also needing to grab something. His body would push against yours, trapping you against the counter with one hand fondling your breast. A scheme so he could grind against your ass for a moment.
When you were chopping up some lettuce, he came up from behind you and placed his hands on top of yours to help you “properly” chop the lettuce. He would lower his head down to your neck, claiming it was easier for him to see if he rested his head there. A ploy so he could kiss your neck.
It didn’t end in the kitchen.
Once dinner was served, you sat next to Sanji and Robin sat with Nami opposite you two. The three of them started to enthrall you with tales of their adventures on the sea, making you a bit envious of their wayfaring.
You didn’t have much time to feel sorry for yourself though, as midway through dinner, Sanji’s hand fell under the table and began petting up and down your thigh. At first, you decided to act normal and ignore it. You two were at a table in front of his friends, there’s no way he would be dumb-
“Hmph-!” Your body tensed, feeling his hand slide up your skirt and in between your thighs.
You clamped your thighs together hoping to halt him in his tracks. Your head snapped to him, but he remained unfazed, acting as if nothing had happened.
Unfortunately for you, he was able to wriggle his hand just enough to get closer to your panties. He pushed his finger against you, pushing your underwear to the side to stroke your growing wet folds. After that, he stuck one long finger in, pumping slowly with just one finger.
You gulped, biting the inside of your bottom lip, hoping to stay silent. You’d be mortified if Robin and Nami found out what you two were doing right now.
Sanji didn’t do much else after he started fingering you. He continued that slow pumping pace, not doing too much so you could act normal and giving you just enough to be excited for when dinner ended. He only pulled because you started to clean up the table while they were still around.
Eventually, it was time for you to say goodbye to your two guests.
“It was nice meeting you, (Y/N).”
“Same here, Robin. I’m glad you two enjoyed the meal.”
“It was delicious, thank you so much for having us.”
“And if Sanji gives you any trouble, just come and find us. We know how he can get.”
You chuckled, walking the two towards the door. “No worries, Nami. I know how to deal with him too. Have a nice night!”
“Bye!”
Almost the second the door shut and you two were alone, Sanji shoved his tongue in your mouth and wrapped his arms around you. His hands roamed your body, jumping from caressing your thighs to your ass to your breasts. He was so needy.
You struggled to keep up with his pace, but you couldn't break away. He was refusing to let you go. His kiss was so messy and rough, that you were sure your lips would be puffy by the time he pulled away.
His hand that was fondling your breast pulled away, hurriedly working on removing your blouse, something he had to stop the kiss for. Your head was dizzy with how he had rushed you, you almost didn't pick up on how eager he was to see your bare chest. His eyes lit up once your bra was removed.
"God, I've missed your boobs."
He reached down past your skirt to grab onto the back of your thighs and they hooked around him instinctually. He carried you over to the table you two had just been having dinner at and placed you down. His face fell straight into your chest, kissing and nipping your flesh. His hands latched onto your nipples to start pinching and rolling the buds in his fingers.
His crotch was directly against yours, allowing you to feel his erection growing. You started to move your hips against his, remembering the tingling pleasure he always gave you. He was eager as well, as he started to grind into you.
"Sanji," You moaned softly, hand reaching out to tug his hair.
He groaned at the action, and the speed of his hips picked up creating more friction. He removed a hand from your breast, reaching around to squeeze your ass and pull your body closer to his.
You were about to beg him to start fucking you, needing more than this to push you to cum, until you noticed the expression on his face. His eyes were tightly shut and he was biting his bottom lip. He was desperate to cum, now.
You had never seen him so worked up before, it turned you on, even more, to know he was being like this for you. If there wasn't a wet patch on his pants before due to your soaked panties, there certainly was one now.
"Fuuuck," He said, a mix between a whine and a moan.
So entranced by the sight before you, you decided to let him finish like this, already coming up with a plan for the aftermath. A bit of revenge for how he acted during the meal if you will.
His speed was getting faster, and his hold on your ass and tit tighter. "I just- I need-" He was struggling with his words, clearly lost in his head.
"Are you close to cumming for me, Sanji?" You asked in a teasing tone.
He completely froze, his face turning red with embarrassment for the first time since you met him all those years ago.
"(Y-Y/N)- I didn't mean to-" He struggled, stammering out a sentence, but his words were silenced when you slid your hands down his pants and cupped his length in your hand.
You could feel him throbbing in your palm, he was so close that he was already twitching in your hand. "It's okay, Sanji. I'll let you finish, but then we play my way. Okay?"
You squeezed your hand around his dick at the end, earning a small shaky breath. After he quickly agreed, you pulled your hand out of his pants, allowing him to continue grinding on you.
You pushed your breasts together for him, to which he happily planted his face in between.
He bit down roughly on your right tit when he finally started to cum in his pants, his hips jerking against your wet clothed cunt. When his peak ended, he raised his head from your breasts, trying to steady his breathing.
You hopped off of the table, grabbed his hand, and led him to your bedroom. "You know, I always remember you making fun of me for being so needy all the time. I guess the tables have turned now, huh?"
"It's… it's been a while okay?"
"I can tell," You said while pushing him down on your bed.
You pulled down your underwear before lifting your skirt to reveal your exposed wet pussy before moving to straddle him. You worked on unclothing him, carefully undoing each button on his shirt while rolling your crotch against his. In no time, you could feel him hardening up again.
Once you got his shirt off, leaving on his tie, you repositioned yourself to sit right below the hem of his pants. You zipped his pants open and pulled them down, along with his underwear, springing free his messy cock. It was smeared in sperm from before, already lubed up when you wrapped a hand around it.
You scooted closer so you were able to bring his tip to your entrance. You moved it up and down your slick folds, humming at the feeling, already ready to be filled up. But you had to be strong, remembering how you wanted to get payback.
He jerked his hips in your hands. "Love, I'm begging you. You've already made me wait such a long time."
You put your hands on his chest, raising your hips so your entrance was right above him. "I said I was sorry." You began to move your wet cunt against his length, not allowing the sweet tightness he desired. "Don't you forgive me, Sanji?"
He let out a shaky moan, feeling your slick folds slide up and down his length. His tip was so close to entering each time you went up his dick, only for you to slowly slide back down.
His hands went up to cup your face, thumbs tracing against your cheeks. He pressed a long deep kiss onto you. It was so unlike the kiss from before, with there being a slow passion to it, he was able to distract you.
You gasped into the kiss, feeling him push his cock into you. He pulled away with a devilish smirk, continuing to push until he was all the way in you. You started to whimper, it had been such a long time since anyone filled you up.
"I do, darling. And that's why I'm so happy you're not going to get upset with me for breaking our little agreement." He pulled out a bit before thrusting up into you, earning a moan.
He wrapped his arms around your torso, pulling you closer to him so your chest was flush against his. He continued to thrust into you. He had quickly developed a pattern, he did a few shallow thrusts, not pulling out very much, before pulling out nearly all the way, leaving only his tip in you, then rammed himself back in only to repeat the process.
Each time he pulled out more, he hit hard, and with each thrust your moaning got louder and louder. His moaning grew in volume as well, as your walls tightened with each deep thrust.
This feeling was getting him close, along with watching you on top of him. Since you were flat against him, he could feel your breasts bouncing up and down on him with the thrusts. His favorite part about this though, was that your face was clear for him to see. Your half-lidded eyes, the small 'o' shape your mouth was in got bigger each time you moaned loudly.
Eventually, your entire body tightened and you began to spasm. Your walls clenched, finally hitting your high. Sanji wasn’t far behind, as seconds after you came you could feel his cock twitching inside of you and hot spurts of cum poured into you.
“I hope you don’t have plans tomorrow,” Sanji breathed out.
“Why?” You asked in between pants.
“Because,” He pulled out of you, beginning to reposition you two, “I don’t plan on stopping until you’re exhausted.”
Your palms fell flat against your bed as you found yourself on all fours now. His hands went down to hold your ass, his now hard again dick ramming into you from behind. He was much rougher this time with his thrusting, and his hold on you was tight so you couldn’t pull away.
At this faster pace of his, it didn’t take long until your arms gave out and your top half fell against the bed. You bounced your ass in the air with him, hoping he’d hit deeper with each thrust. So fixated on cumming again, you didn’t notice how his grip had loosened and that he had slowed down again.
“There’s my good girl,” He moaned. “So desperate to cum around my cock.”
-
Your eyes fluttered open, feeling a pair of arms wrapped around you along with a leg thrown over yours. Your vision began to clear and you saw a blond sleeping in your bed. The events of the night before began to play in your head, reminding yourself why your body was so sore.
“Hm… I guess you were telling the truth when you said I’d pass out.”
“Of course I was. I’d never lie to you, love,” His eyes opened.
You narrowed your eyes. “How long have you been up?”
He shrugged. “A while.”
“Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“Because I made you do a lot last night. Plus, I enjoyed how peaceful you looked when you were asleep. I was trying to save it in my memory in case…” His voice trailed off, afraid to finish his sentence.
“In case what?”
“In case… you said no to being a pirate with me.”
Your eyes widened. “What?”
He sat up, and you followed. “I want you to join the Straw Hat Pirates. It’s a really friendly crew, aside from Zoro. Everyone’s nice, aside from Zoro. You’ve already met three of them, and got along great with them, aside from Zoro, but he’s just a grump. And I’m sure Luffy would be fine with it.”
“Who’s Luffy again?”
“He’s the captain. He’s a good kid, and he could use a negotiator.”
You fell silent, contemplating his offer for a bit longer than he’d like.
“Alright, I’ll join.”
Sanji continued to plead with you to join, having not fully processed your answer. “Please, (Y/N). You’ll get to travel again, and sure, we’ll have to deal with occasional bad- Excuse me?”
“I said, I’ll join. I’ve already helped out Greylock and there’s not much left for me here anyway. What I want is to travel on the sea again, going to new distant lands with you.”
“(Y/N)...”
You grabbed his hand, smiling happily up at him, knowing you’d be starting a brand new chapter in your life. Unlike all the other ship crews that had offered you a spot amongst them, you didn’t feel like you would fit in. Joining The Straw Hats felt right somehow, especially since someone you were close with was already a part of the crew.
The sweet moment you two shared ended shortly, as in your peripheral line of sight, you saw a tent rising in the sheets.
“Really?” You asked, throwing the blanket up to expose his erection.
“You’re just so cute when you’re sincere!”
.
.
.
Tags:
@misfits1a, @nuhteyam, @violet-19999, @idkhowtoplayhoyoversegames, @chaixsherlock, @notazul, @simpforseungkwan, @shadowwolf1864, @quixscentsposts
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fanaticsnail · 9 days
Note
Hi Snail!! It's been a little while, I hope you and the family are doing well! I thought I'd pop in with so self-indulgent birthday thoughts I've had throughout the day.
1. Mihawk with a happy trail. (No other thoughts, but pretty man I'd desire to bite all over.)
2. Baking a birthday cake with Sanji! initially, he was going to have it be a surprise, but after catching him, we both worked on it together. (More platonic leaning vibes, he'd be such a nice friendo)
3. Shanks accidentally starting a citywide party in celebration of my birthday (he gets excited at the thought of a party), but ends up leading me off to just spend time alone on some isolated hilltop. It's a very peaceful evening shared between us.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY WRENNYX!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAA. Please have a mini fic on your special day for the broody swordsman 🖤. I'm sorry I didn't write more, my love!
Happy Trail
Masterlist Here
Word Count: mini fic
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Synopsis: Mihawk is not as well groomed as he usually keeps himself. You notice, and you can't help yourself.
Themes: Mihawk x f!reader, established relationship, suggestive content, Mihawk is unkept, husband x wife, domesticity.
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Mihawk, arching his brow as perplexion dawns on his face as you lower yourself to the ground beside his thighs. Leaning back on the chair, unlacing his knee from its position atop the other, he raises his wineglass to his lips. Eyes never leaving yours, he watches as you eagerly crawl between his knees and place your hands splayed atop both of his muscular and lanky legs.
"My dear," he utters when releasing the lip of the wine glass from his open mouth, tongue darting out to collect the spillover from his bottom lip, "Just what do you think you are doing?"
You hum gently, moving your thumbs on soothing circles to the apex of his lowered hemline. Adonis belt on full view, you gently caress your digits over the short patch of silky, dark locks and shudder in delight at the sensation.
"You're not as groomed as you usually keep yourself, my darling," you note, gently flicking over the follicles, "I am not complaining."
Mihawk shuddered away from your touch, the ministrations tickling at his abdomen causing a slight twitch to his lips and a smile reserved only for you in its wake.
"Oh, really?" he feigned indifference, his body reacting against his will as he leaned into your touch, "You are not complaining?"
Reaching forward, he placed the wine glass down on the table in front of him, all the while holding your eyes with his honey-hued orbs. Leaning down, he collected your chin within his right hand and rose you to stand. As you rose to your feet, he gently guided your right hip with his left hand and urged you forward to straddle his waist.
"You're telling me," he gently hooked your hair over your ear and caressed your jawline gently, "You, my beautiful wife," he pressed his lips to your cheek, "Enjoy having a partially scruffy husband?"
Mihawk smiled against your cheek, pressing a further three kisses slowly against your cheek towards your neck. His moustache and beard tickled your face, prompting you to curl in to his soft touch.
"Careful now," he whispered, his lips finally catching that place on your neck below your earlobe that had a soft gasp fled your lips, "I might think you prefer me a little untamed, beloved."
"Mihawk," you gasped, your chest rising with the bloom of need in your chest and stomach. He chuckled against your neck, gently clamping his teeth down on your pulse and soothing it with his tongue.
"Upstairs, dear," he chuckled against your skin, his wandering hands gently caressing your knuckles as you continued to toy with his treasure trove of dark curls, "Let me show you just how wild and unbridled your husband can truly be for you."
Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory
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So Pretty | Bang Chan
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Summary: you give Channie the love he deserves
Notes: Channie's recent live has given me sad hours and I want you all to imagine what it would be like if bang chan could receive the love and affection he absolutely needs and deserves
Warnings: none, other than the fact it's too short:(
"You are so pretty," you coo to your lover. You adjusted your position on the couch so you could lean over, cupping his cheeks between your palms and squishing them together gently.
Chan's eyelashes fluttered closed as your lips pressed soft kisses to the eyelids. "You're the beautiful one in this relationship," he mumbles.
"Hmm, while I can certainly take a compliment, you also have to learn to accept my opinion. And that is: you are the most beautiful person to ever exist."
Chan giggles at your confession, finding the embarrassment to be too overwhelming. "What are you even saying?"
He opened his doe eyes to look at you, a little sparkle flaring in them as he caught the genuine love in your eyes. You smiled sweetly, placing another peck to his face. "As you know, I'm never wrong. So I couldn't possibly be wrong about this either."
Your lover couldn't fight you anymore. He knew better than to let the moment get pushed into a deeper conversation, potentially ruining the happy mood you intentionally set for him. Instead, he watched you carefully tuck tendrils of his hair away, enjoying the way you looked at him. Your smile always made his heart light up like the starry sky.
Chan dipped his hands down to grip your waist, tugging you into his lap to hold you properly. He watched you adjust comfortably, thighs on both of his hips. He rested his hands on yours before leaning down to lay his head on you shoulder.
"Tell me I'm pretty again," he mutters quietly, eyes closing to peacefully listen to your voice.
You play with the strands of his hair softly. "You're so pretty," you whisper, humming afterwards. "So, so pretty. I could stare at you all day long. The many different shades of brown your eyes can have when they glisten in the sun. The shape of your eyebrows," you paused your words as you thought about it.
Chan let out a short laugh. "My eyebrows?"
You nod. "Yes. Your right eyebrow sticks straight up after a really good nap! But the minute I go to smooth it out, it stands right back up. And yet, it's such a handsome feature. Because it's you all natural."
Chan hums softly, truly listening and hanging onto your every word. He never thought he could hear someone compliment him and accept it. Chan found himself compelled to believe your words, despite his own internal differences.
"I love your lips, and how you've learned to tilt your head for cute pictures because your smile curls more to one side. It just fills my heart with butterflies seeing you smiling so prettily for me. I love your curly hair the most out of all the styles, no matter how unruly it may get. The soft way it lays on the top but goes crazy on the sides, practically begging for me to play with it!"
The laughter bubbling between the two of you forced him to pull away. Chan looks into your eyes to ground himself again, his lips curling into that smile you loved. "You are so charming with words."
"I wasn't done-"
"It's fine!" He cuts off quickly, hand covering your mouth. "I'm fine. I love you, and I appreciate your words. I appreciate you."
"But?" You press, finding a mischievous glint behind his eyes as you remove his hand.
"But....I need a shower. My hair needs to be washed, actually."
"Curly Chan?!" You gasped.
He nods. "Curly Chan. Please order some food because we are about to have a long night in." With a wink, your lover set you back onto the couch and ran for your shared bedroom, swiftly closing the door behind him.
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cheeseceli · 1 year
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Sides of SKZ they only show around their s/o
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Pairing: ot8!skz × gn!reader (individually)
Genre: fluff and maybe a little bit of angst
A/n: idk if that makes sense and I'm sorry if it happens to be repetitive but ! I liked to write it so yeah. As always, not proofread
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Bang Chan - He's Reckless
Being the eldest sibling, eldest member and the leader of stray kids, Chan became pretty much a parental figure for many. He's always looking out for everybody, making sure everything is okay and dealing with any problem. Don't get him wrong, he loves his job and the people in his life, but sometimes it's exhausting to take care of everything. When he met you though, everything changed. He feels that he can let go. He can be reckless and ask for attention some times. Because, for once, there's someone taking care of him.
Lee Know - He's scared
Usually, he is a confident and even cocky guy. With you though, he is scared. Scared that he might lose you. Scared that his job or personality might scare you. Scared that someone out there is better than him and you'd soon find out. He can't bear to lose you, he doesn't want to imagine a life without you in it. So he'll fight each one of his fears if that means you'll be with him till the very end.
Changbin - He doesn't care
I feel like he always wants to give people the right impression. He wants to say the right thing, behave the right way and hope people will be always satisfied. But suddenly he doesn't care that much anymore. Because he already managed to impress you and you're more than satisfied. Above all of that, you love him. People's opinions are not that important after all.
Hyunjin - He's aware
Always an artist, he knew how to appreciate the beauty in the world since a young age. But since he fell for you every moment seems like an epiphany. The autumn leaves are beautiful, falling with grace. The old lady talking to a kid brings tears to his eyes for an unknown reason. He realises how the breeze is refreshing and how he loves you dearly. He thinks for a second that maybe you're the one who brought life to this world, and he is so happy that he can see all this beauty when he's with you.
Han - He doesn't think
Most of the time, he's too self conscious about his actions and his words, like he needs to be super cautious with everything. Self doubt and overthinking is part of his routine at this point, except when you're with him. You're his safe place. Whenever you're with him, he just does or says whatever he thinks and is never scared you'll judge him, because he knows you never would.
Felix - He's protective
He has a kind nature. He usually doesn't look up for confrontation and is always gentle. But then you came to his life as the most precious treasure he ever saw and now he wants to protect it. Because you're the light of his life and he'll fight anything and anyone if that means you'll be safe. He would happily be your knight in a shining armour if you asked him.
Seungmin - He's vulnerable
Most people only see his "mean" personality or how he doesn't show a lot of affection towards others. We all know he actually is really caring but when it comes to you he's also vulnerable. He doesn't care if one can perceive him as "weak", and he's not scared of oversharing by accident. When he's with you, he's made of glass, but he doesn't mind as he knows you'd never break him.
I.N - He's perfeccionist
You're the best thing to ever happen to him and he is aware of that. He wants to give his all to you and he wants you to be treated like royalty. So he is always trying his best to make sure you're treated like one. He always wants everything to be perfect, because he believes that perfect is still so little compared to what you truly deserve.
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Feedbacks and reblogs are always appreciated!
Dividers by @cafekitsune
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polarisjisung · 8 months
Text
HOW DREAMIES ASK YOU TO BE THEIR VALENTINE
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pairings: nct dream x fem! reader
genre: fluff (established relationship in all except haechan's)
wc: 4k (it was meant to be shorter...)
warnings: one swear word (literally one I promise), mentions of shitty work environments but nothing in detail, not proof read, reader is implied to be shorter than jisung, use of pet names
notes: HAPPY V DAY 🥰🥰
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MARK - candle light dinner at home
Mark's job is his passion and his best form of expression has always been through music— most special occasions, like the day he'd asked you to become official or your birthday, Mark would write and compose a song especially for you— this time Mark wants to switch it up. He felt like it was almost too predictable for him to plug a pair of headphones in your ears and serenade you, he didn't want that. Mark believes in making each and every moment together special, and asking you to be his valentine deserved a little extra attention.
It's a known fact that Mark isn't to be trusted in the kitchen, it just isn't his forte, which is why you're usually the one cooking and he'd do the dishes.
Tonight he decides you deserve something special, it's a couple weeks before the 14th, and since the new years he's been taking some extra special training from jaemin on cooking up some of your favourite dishes. At first things started out palatable at best, but now, even jaemin could argue that they were delicious— that was the thing about Mark, nothing could beat his dedication and man was he dedicated to expressing his love for you.
You finish work late tonight and you're already planning on what take out to order once you get home, like you usually would, admittedly you don't actually like take out all that much, which is why Mark is all the more eager to see your reaction to his efforts.
The second he receives the text that you're on the way home, Mark is running across the kitchen and setting up the table, a romantic setting with a home cooked candle light dinner, something you were sure to like. Hes grinning from ear to ear as you step through the door, enveloping you in a bone crushing hug the second he lays his eyes on you.
"there's my pretty girl"
"here I am" you smile, kissing his cheek, mark can't shake the feeling that you seem a little down.
You seem tired, Mark assumes it was a hard day at work, and suddenly he feels the need to make sure everything is extra perfect.
There's some rose petals scattered along your dining table, pretty pink cocktails with a little edible glitter sprinkled along the top laid on each end of the table next to a beautifully plated serving of your favourite foods. Of course there's a small hand written note placed by your plate, a love letter with Mark's best fancy hand writing, lettering the words will you be my valentine across the envelope.
Mark waits for you patiently by the stairs, you were usually pretty fast at getting unready but Mark felt as though he was waiting for hours— though he didn't mind all that much waiting for you.
"It smells really good babe, I'm starved" you say when you see him leant against the bannister of your stairs
"let's not keep you waiting then hmm?" he smiles wide as ever, grabbing your hand and escorting you the table, it's not unusual for Mark to pull out your chair as you sit down, but you can't help but gawk at the spread in front of you, tears welling in your eyes
"you made all of this mark?"
he nods, proud of himself, though he's a little hesitant seeing the watering of your eyes
"you don't like it?" he wishes he didn't ask the question, watching you burst into tears at the confirmation
"I love it of course i do," you wipe the tears, feeling mark let his arms hang around your waist from behind you, "I just, today was hard and this, means so much to me"
Mark smiles, he realises you haven't noticed the pink and red envelope by your side, and he knows that you're feeling guilty about the tears— as much as he believes in talking through your emotions, Mark realises that's just not what you want right now and so he quietly presses a kiss to your cheek, wiping his thumb past where the tears had rolled down, and places the envelope between your fingers.
Had you not stopped yourself, you think you'd cry again.
"I love you" you whisper, voice cracking as you do, "of course I'll be your valentine" and that night, you swear you fell in love with Mark lee all over again.
RENJUN - going above and beyond
Renjun regularly buys you flowers, and each time there's an absolutely unbeatable look on your face, whether it's an intricate bouquet or a simpler bunch of tulips, he swears the smile on your face gives him reason to live, every single time. You're his muse, his biggest inspiration and to him a DIY valentines proposal only seemed right.
Thanks to your chronically online tendencies, you'd been fawning over those glitter rose bouquets to him all week, unintentionally for the most part, but considering the bouquet he'd last given you was slowly withering away in the vase you kept them in, renjun found himself scrolling through multiple tutorials, and ultimately, covered in glitter from head to toe the following week.
For anything concerning you, renjun likes to go above and beyond, he was a simple man for the most part but for you, simplicity just wasn't a feasible option in his mind.
He spends the whole month planning the perfect valentines proposal, and just to make sure that the seed of insecurity can't sprout itself in your mind, Renjun makes sure to ask you to be his valentine a month in advance.
It's a weekly date night like usual except its all the more extravagant. Renjun had made a reservation at a fancy riverside restaurant and chosen out the most perfect outfits for the both of you, it was no doubt he had a good eye, undeniably you also happen to look drop dead gorgeous in the simplest of clothes.
He knows he can't push you against the wall and smash his lips against yours, given the oppurtunity he absolutely would but considering the setting, he opts for expressing his thoughts to you instead
"you look perfect" there's a soft blush that creeps up on your face as the waitress guides the two of you to your table— you don't fail to take notice of how empty the restaurant seems
"renjun? you booked out the whole restaurant?" he nods, a sheepish smile lining his lips, he knew you didn't always like that he spent so much on you, but to renjun it was worth it, and this time you don't dispute it with anything more than an eye roll. He made you feel nothing short of a princess.
Renjun pops the question with full confidence, his hands tugging tugging at your fingers from across the table— the bouquet he'd made for you sitting across from you in a vase that looked oh so similar to your favourite, now shattered one
"Be my valentine?"
You'd been dating for years, of course you'd say yes, but it made your heart flutter every time, knowing he had made the effort to ask
"forever and always jun, you're stuck with me"
He'd have it no other way.
JENO - sweet and simple
Jeno loves you more than words can describe and really he doesn't think he can put it into words even if he tried. He already does so much for you on a day to day that even he struggled to find ways to go above and beyond when it comes to birthdays or valentines. He asks you about 3 weeks in advance, not too early but not too late, the perfect timing. It's a simple moment but it's special, jeno makes it special.
You'd been living together for a while, and jeno figured the perfect way to surprise you would be after a night out with your girls, since you refused to be home any later than midnight, saying you needed your beauty sleep. He wishes he'd gotten a balloon pump given the amount of pink red and white heart shaped latex balloons he'd blown up in the past two hours, but he knows your reaction will be worth it.
You knock against the front door, slightly tipsy, but nothing too major, eyes scanning over jeno who for some reason still seems to be in his dress shirt and trousers from work. He couldn't tell you he got to work straight away after getting home, wanting everything to be perfect meant he had no time to waste.
"there's my handsome boyfriend" you swing your arms over his neck and jeno let's a nervous chuckle escape, you barely notice the tension in his laugh as he helps you inside.
"did you have fun doll?" you nod against his chest, and jeno's eyes crinkle into a small smile
he's already taking your shoes off, knowing that kicking your heels off after getting home was an absolute must for you, you don't pay any mind to his actions, he always did this. Instead you're pressing a quick kiss to his cheek
"thank you" you'd say, or at least try to before jeno has you in his arms carrying you up the stairs to your bedroom, bridal style— now this, this was certainly new
"jeno put me down" your giggles resound through the house but jeno doesn't let up, smiling down at you in his arms
"I've got legs nono and they work just fine" he shrugs at your words
"yeah and your boyfriend has arms that work just fine too, don't have these arms for anyone but you doll"
safe to say you're a blushing mess until jeno finally places you down outside your shared bedroom door, letting you open the door yourself
A gasp escapes your lips at the sight of the large bouquet of flowers sitting on the bedside table, one practically the size of your head, maybe even bigger, filled with red roses, and a card alongside. There's a million balloons bumping against your feet and a small banner with jeno's handwriting reading "will you my valentine?" resting on your queen sized bed— jeno notices how your smile reaches your eyes
"so doll, be my valentine?"
"only since you asked so nicely" you say, and jenos lifting you up again, pressing a kiss to your lips
"think you just made me the happiest man alive"
HAECHAN - a heartfelt confession
You'd always been his sunflower, when things were tough you were there to help him through it all, his beacon of happiness and all things good in life. But haechan had never quite explicitly let you in on those feelings of his, you were supposed to be just best friends, recently that didn't seem enough for haechan.
He'd always had confidence, and despite the little slither of insecurity that lingers in the pit of his stomach at the possibility of rejection, he makes every effort to make the moment perfect, for you.
It was often your hangouts would take on a more date like form, this time however haechan had made the conscious effort of making this as close to a date as possible. He'd practically begged you to wear that beautiful baby blue sundress he bought for you for your birthday, and claimed the rest of it would be a surprise— placing a blindfold over your eyes.
It's only 5am, far too early in your opinion, to even be awake on a Saturday, something you groaned about just a little as you were warily following the pull of haechans hand.
"Hyuck are you kidnapping me?" you asked, only hearing haechan's laughter echo in your ear a little while after, you take it as a no and continue walking, the texture of the ground beneath you becoming softer and almost slightly wet, you can't help but let your curiosity grow.
"I could be in bed right now hyuck, pretty please can you tell me what we're doing?"
had it not been for the blindfold, you'd see the way his eyes roll and his nervous smile grew into an amused one
"you could be in bed any day sunshine, trust me this is a once in a life time thing" he hoped, in reality haechan had been convincing himself that rejection just wasn't an option, there was no way you didn't feel whatever spark this was between the two of you the same way he did.
Your scream cuts his thoughts out, and yet again, he smiles at the sight of you, hair flowing slightly in the breeze, your lip stuck between your teeth
"hyuck there's something on my leg— are you sure you're not kidnapping me? It's okay if you are just let me know so I can put up a fi—"
you don't expect to find yourself in a sunflower field, when haechan finally removes your blindfold.
There was no way the lee haechan would confess to you, quite frankly the love of his life, without serenading you. So there he is perched up on a chair that he'd set up before picking you up, strumming away at a guitar as he sings your favourite song.
"Sunshine will you be my valentine?"
You freeze when you see him stood in front of you, that angelic face of his only inches from yours— you nod.
"You know I love you right" this time, despite all the times he had posed the same question, you realise that the I love you means a lot more than usual
JAEMIN- spur of the moment (sort of)
Jaemin is the best boyfriend you could ask for and more, something he wants to continue to live up to, but considering he's set the standard so high, jaemin struggles sometimes.
He realises that not everything needs to be hugely extravagant and that as long as you liked it, jaemin did too.
That doesn't stop him from scrolling through Pinterest and tiktok for ideas, all of which he's already done in the last few years or thinks just aren't good enough. He settles on going to the store to grab some valentines essentials before making his mind up. That's where the teddy bear catches his eye, a practically 6 foot tall Teddy bare reading the words will you be my valentine in red cursive that had his heart beating out of his chest, it was just so cute, jaemin and to buy it.
The idea finally dawns upon him when he's finding a way to fit everything into the back of his car, those stubborn helium balloons trying to fly out, forcing him to hold them down with the two chocolate boxes he'd bought, with the fluffy brown Teddy bear at the centre. A little adjustment here and there, and if jaemin did say so himself, it looked beautiful, some finishing touches and it'd be perfect.
Everyday, jaemin picks you up from work, despite the fact that you have your own car, jaemin makes it a point to both drop you off and pick you up from work with perfect timing, you don't know how he does it really. But jaemin always manages to bring you your favourite coffee and pastry when you're feeling down, or always has painkillers in hand for the days you work longer hours, knowing you'll feel a headache coming on the second you walk through the doors of your office building. He picks you up with a smile every day, and, as always, exactly what you need.
Tonight after a failed business idea proposal and a heck of a lot of judgemental glares from the specific work colleagues of yours who didn't seem to like you, with no actual reason, you don't know how jaemin's going to manage it lift your mood, all you know is that he will.
"hi pretty" he flashes you a sweet smile, as he steps out of the car to take your bags from you
"hi jaem" you smile at him, he recognises its nowhere near as full and bright as usual and you're thankful he doesn't push on the topic
"I'll just put these on the backseat, do you think you can just grab a bottle of water from the back?" you nod at his request, reaching out to lift the trunk
Jaemin somehow manages to prove himself every time, it was like he bad a 6th sense, solely for you.
The soft glow of the fake candles jaemin had bought to set the scene lights up your face as he turns to sneak a look at your reaction. You swear you've never seen the back of his car so packed, full of your favourite things, makeup essentials, snacks, flowers and the most adorable fluffy brown bear. You barely take into account half of it, mind blurred with the sheer admiration you had for jaemin.
Like always he made your heart flutter, being his valentine only made your heart swell further.
"what's wrong?" he notices the way your eyes brim with tears, holding your cheeks between his palms, you don't waste a second to pull him close, placing your head against his chest.
"nothing, everything's perfect"
"so?" he raises his brow at the teddy bear before looking back at you
"of course I'll be your valentine nana"
CHENLE - kind of cheesy but crazy cute
Extravagant and over the top may as well be his middle name, chenle was a firm believer in go big or go home. When it came to you it seemed all the lavishes were multiplied ten fold.
Chenle asks you at his pool party just at the end of January. Who even has a pool party in January? well chenle does, he claimed it was to celebrate the longest month of the year finally passing, really it was just an excuse to get everyone together again.
And chenle loves to show you off, but he appreciates those one on one intimate moments with you especially. He knows not to ask when the party is in full swing, though he does steal you away for a few kisses. It's only when the party dies down and its just the two of you left behind that he drags you to the other end of his garden, to show you something.
"What is it you want to show me lele?" you ask, not noticing the candles spread across the area in front of you, chenle had placed them all there in an attempt to set the scene just a little.
There's still some music playing in the background, now a softer slower song echoing through the area, chenle let's his hand slip into yours
"may I have this dance m'lady?"
it was rare chenle was every this chessily cute, a red flush spreading across your features as you smile, nodding
You swear when your eyes lock that you've never been luckier, dancing in your damp swimsuit cover up with him as the soft breeze blows by you, his own eyes gazing down into yours so gentle.
"would you be my valentine?"
Chenle assumes the kiss you press against his lips means yes
JISUNG - late night picnic by the riverside
Now jisung wouldn't class himself a romantic, he was far from it. He was kind and caring and a total sweetheart but he wouldn't quite say romantic. This plan of his however, has him thinking otherwise.
You had always mentioned thinking stargazing was one of the cutest date activities, especially for a couple like the two of you who took so much interest in astronomy. Jisung sees it as the perfect way to ask you to be his valentine.
You're at the park, the same one you liked to take late night strolls on, sit on the bench and eat those snacks you bought from the convenience store just across the street at. It's pretty large and despite your frequent visits, jisung realises you barely make any use of the riverside that runs along the far end of the park— usually since the two of you get too tired to walk even half the expanses of the park.
It had taken jisung a good week and a fair few discussions with his friends,and even one with his mum, to figure out the best way to execute his plan, so that everything would be perfect. He'd packed a little basket of your favourite snacks and a blanket to place on the grass, and knowing you well enough, jisung had thrown an extra jacket over his outfit. You were bound to get cold.
"Jisung, how come you have a basket?" you ask, your fingers intertwined as you make your way down the gravel pathway, stars reflecting in your eyes as you stare up at him, fuck the sky, the only stars jisung cared about were the ones that shone so brightly at him, and only at him, in those perfect glossy eyes of yours. And if that's what stargazing was, jisung could do it all night long. The rest of his life in fact.
"Jisung?" He barely realises that he hasn't answered your question and when he does, still slightly dazed from your sweet stare he only shakes his head a little.
You don't question it further, jisung could be a little caught up in his thoughts (mostly you), a lot of the time, but you didn't mind
Only one small sigh and jisung takes it as a cue to throw you over his shoulder, carrying you to the other end of the park, he couldn't let you walk if you were tired now could he?
It's only a few weeks into the new year so the weather is still a little chilly, and jisung notices the way your hands grow cold in his, a knowing smile biting at his lips
"feeling cold?" you shake your head but jisung's shrugging off the jacket resting over his torso already and placing it over yours instead, the musky scent of his cologne only adding to the warmth you feel as you stare up at the sky above. You don't realise his eyes on you, that unwavering stare composed of nothing more than love. He doesn't mind, taking a soft breath to compose himself before popping the question.
For some reason jisung can't bring himself to do it. He finds himself far too immersed in the moment. As much as he'd always wanted to go stargazing, especially with you, jisung can't hope but keep his eyes on you, so mesmerised by the sites in front of you as you try and identify the constellations.
"That's the constellation of love isn't it sung? cass– um, cass something"
cute jisung thinks, as he follows your finger upwards, smiling to himself
"hmm not quite angel, but if I show you you have to promise me something?" you turn your head back slightly to look up at him, resting in his lap with his hands resting either side of your waist
"anything"
"be my valentine?" he asks you with that gummy smile and bright eyes, before letting his hands wrap around yours, guiding your index slightly up and to the right,
"cassiopeia, that's the one"
really and truly, he's internally freaking out at the lack of response on your side, but when you smile up at him with that toothy grin, he feels the warmth rising in his chest.
"hey valentine, do you think I could get a kiss?" jisung swears his smile couldn't grow any wider.
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