#literally giggled for so long because they are so cute | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sh1-n0bu · 7 months ago

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♡︎ 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 ♡︎

characters: AFAB!sub!jing yuan, dan heng, blade x gn!dom!reader

warnings: AFAB characters, overstimulation, headcannon+small drabble format, praise, degrading, cock/strap traditions, dacryphilia, usage of bullet vibrator, slight brat taming, nipple stimulation, fingering, oral, cervix fucking, begging, squirting, clit pinching, cock/strap warming, size kink, belly bulge, breeding, creampie, mating press, full nelson, just a personal headcannon of how i think they would act when overstimulated

notes: someone wrote “nobody writes ahegao quite like nobu does” in one of their repost tags and im fucking shitting tears😭😭

the giggler

jing yuan loves to be overstimulated. he loves the feeling of it, the adrenaline rush, the high, the feeling of finally cumming all over your fingers, tongue, strap whatever it may be and the feeling of you continuing to move, drawing out his orgasm while also driving him into an overstimulated mess

has the cutest giggles and laughs when he gets too much pleasure. he doesn’t even try to hide or won’t even try to hide it. why would he when you were making him feel so good over and over again? hell, he even wants other people to hear it, to remind them that you were his lover and only his. and how only he gets to feel the overwhelming amount of pleasure only you can bring to him and no one else

but, it comes with a catch. he needs a lot of foreplay and/or teasing and/or orgasm denial for him to finally cave in and shake his head before starting to blabber incoherent shit about how good your cock feels inside his gushing pussy, how he could feel your tip fucking his cervix, how he wanted you to fuck a baby inside him etc etc

and i mean a LOT of it

as a centuries old war hardened general, it’s safe to say that he had gotten used to some feelings and emotions. pleasure being one of them

so if you want to get him to break and to become absolutely dumb and drunk on lust and pleasure, you have to tease him a lots before getting into it. if not, he will somehow find a way to outsmart you and take the reigns. he’s a bit of a brat and a spoiled prince wrapped up into one after all

will tell you what to do and how to do it if you have failed in getting him needy in your foreplay. he will fist your hair and thrust his hips into your mouth, making you unable to breath for a moment or two with his clit right at your nose. will push you down and flip your positions so he could ride your face, all the while chuckling at your cute attempt to push him back down. a goddamn brat and he will show it to the fullest when you fail at your foreplay

did i mention he was a brat? well now i have. a fucking brat to the max and he isn’t ashamed of it. will definitely question your power in the bedroom, try to overpower you and he will. he literally swings a 7000kg glaive in one hand like its nothing and he will show it by throwing you around. gently and consensually of course, he wouldn’t want to hurt his beloved

but fully expect him to be cocky and devious. “can you say no to my pretty pussy?”, “so sleepy. oh sorry, i didn’t know your cock was inside me hehe”, “was that all?” you get the gist. will shamelessly yawn in the middle of fucking not because he is sleepy or tired, but simply because he is a brat. a goddamn brat

so, how can you get him to be needy and won’t make him go into his bratty side? simple. shove a long distance controlled vibrator inside his cunt and leave it there for the whole day for him to suffer at work. but if you’re going to do that, be sure to mute the ringtone for your phone for the day since he will call you, send you messages, pictures, videos every damn hour. the closer his hour for shift ending comes, the more frequent the buzzing of your phone will become because he will grow much more needier

when finally he’s back home and frantically pawing at your pants when barely through the doors, that’s when you know he had absolutely no intention of being a brat. how can he when his whole pants were slowly getting stained from his multiple orgasms?

when he’s gladly bending himself over, arching his back for you as he wiggles his hips, he will ask you to come inside. jing yuan is great with kids and such a huge family man, he will ask you over and over repeatedly to breed him. cum inside him, fill up his cute dripping cunt, put him in whatever position you want and make sure to breed his pretty cunt, you can finally raise your own family together!

remember the long distance controlled vibrator i mentioned? make sure to keep it on and buzzing inside his cunt at all times when he’s away at work, or else it won’t work. during meetings or report hearings, jing yuan had to leave to the bathroom a lot of times and it genuinely got his subordinates concerned for his health. the red face, the heavy breathing and sometimes, the jolts of his body or the bleeding bruised lips of his made the cloud knights worry and some even suggested for him to leave the seat of divine foresight early to look after his health. if only they knew just how their dearest general was pathetically biting on his hand to muffle his screams in the bathroom as he squirted all over himself

“[naaammeee], ‘m mmgh♡︎! aaaaangh haah mngck♡︎♡︎ i-i’m home!” jing yuan’s voice called out, weak mewls of pleasure slipping through as he collapsed onto the floor the moment the doors of your shared home was closed. desperately humping the floor, trying to push the vibrator deeper into his gushing pussy, your lover didn’t realize that you were leaning against the wall of the kitchen, watching him with a knowing smile. there was a wet patch growing in his usual red pants, growing more and more the further he humped the air in desperation. see? your tough brat was so easy to tame.

“you feeling okay, darling?” you call out, taking out the controlled from your pants pocket and messing with the switch. flipping it up, down, up to the highest level, before going to the lowest level. it was cute to see the ever so tough brat turn into a delirious mess from just a single small toy. all because he was being so stubborn about how you weren’t the boss of him. walking over to where he was kneeling on the floor, you reach your free hand out. tilting his head up, a thumb swiping away at the drool that was beginning to pool on his lower lip, you tilt your head to the side, asking the question again with a firm hold onto his chin.

“n-no…! no no no, not at aamgh♡︎♡︎ h-hhaaaggm not at all♡︎!” he shakes his head viciously, dragging out his words and tripping over them with moans and mewls falling in between. pathetically, he tugs on the hem of your pants, trying to get to his favorite treat, the one thing he’s been missing this whole day.

“n-need you… need you right now, need your—♡︎♡︎! need yo-our..! c-cock right now...♡︎!” jing yuan mutters between whimpers, finally, his shaky hands manage to pull down your pants and undergarments just enough to have your strap out. a needy whine falling as he places slobbering wet kisses on the tip, giving it a few licks as he flutters his lashes at you in an effort to manipulate you to give him what he was non-verbally asking.

knowing full well that he wouldn’t take no for an answer and that yanqing might come home soon, you drag him up to his feet — an action that was heavily protested against as jing yuan cries out after his favorite treat being taken away. once inside the comfort of your shared bedroom, by the time you have locked the door behind you, he was already naked. clothes messily strewn on the floor and on the bed, the many orgasm’s slick dripping down his puffy cunt to his ass and to the bedsheets eventually. you could see the light trembling of his pussy lips, an action caused by the vibrator fucking away inside him still.

turning the vibrator off, you take the toy out of his puffy cunt. jing yuan let out a drawn out mewl at the feeling, clenching around nothing as he tries to replace the empty feeling for something, anything. but seeing you starting to strip, he knew what he wanted. and he knew how he wanted it.

spreading his legs open further, his hand comes down, flicking at his enlarged clit with a jolt before spreading open his labia for you to take in how he was already so needily wet and dripping for you. a drunk giggle escaping him when the tip of your cock is right against his folds, wiggling his hips enticingly.

“[nnaameeee]~ you gotta fuck a baby in me this time, owhkayyy?♡︎♡︎ hehehe♥︎”

the crybaby

the cutest out of all three of them, in my personal opinion

he just gets overstimmed so easily and quickly, it’s adorable in the way that he brokenly begs for a moment of respite. legs shaking, smaller body jolting violently at the smallest of touches like your hand ghosting over his hardened nipples. don’t even get me started on the way he cutely squeals out loud when you pinch his clit augh

maybe it’s due to his nature as a vidyadhara and not a full human but every little touch is received with so much sensitivity and sensuality, it gets so easy to turn him into a blabbering mess in record time. push his smaller body against the wall and finger his gushing pussy while rolling your thumb over his clit. in no time, his legs are shaking as he bites your hand, his orgasm washing over him quickly and violently. but don’t just stop there, keep flicking at his clit, pinch it, tug on it, push a hand on the small bulge on his belly and he’ll be left sobbing by the second or third round

he’s noticeably smaller than the other two and it carries out into his size kink so well. he just wants to be pushed around and put into impossible, near painful positions and man-handled until he’s left a blabbering idiot

make him cockwarm you while asking him to read you a story or a book under the guise that you had a nightmare and can’t fall asleep without his soothing voice and soft cunny wrapped around your cock. at first he’ll huff and puff, saying that you’re a liar and just wants to fuck him. four or five pages in and his voice is already strained, whines coming out as hiccups and sniffles follow soon after

but just because he’s a crybaby doesn’t mean he’s an idiot. he knows how much you love his pretty steel grey eyes unfocused and hazy, brimming with tears and he will use that to his advantage. will make sure to play with his nipples or push down on the bulge in his tummy when cockwarming you so he could get teary eyed quicker. the moment he sniffles and grinds himself down on you, he knows you’re a goner and would give him what he wants

he may be a crybaby, but he’s also a goddamn minx so beware of that

tugs on your sleeve so cutely, looking at you with a flushed face and stuttered words to ask you if you wanna spend time with him in his room. today’s trailblazing expedition was too long and tiring after all, “surely you would enjoy some cuddles…?” or “i just wanted to help you patch up your wounds. i was just worried”

yeah sure, dan heng. just say that you wanna get fucked until you’re squealing out like a slut with fat tears running down your cute red cheeks. thank the aeons the express’ walls are thick and soundproof. if not, who knows the amount of noise complaint you would have gotten from everyone

has slight oral fixation. slightly. but that’s only because he wants to see you crumble and give into his non-verbal demands and just ruin him. he’s a bit too shy to ask directly after all

long serpentine tongue wrapping around your strap, pulling it into his mouth. will gag and choke so loudly with the tip of the fat dildo pushed right down his throat, hitting his uvula and choking his throat. he can complain about sore throats and pained jaws all he wants but you both know that he loves to suckle on your strap with tears filling his eyes

the most messiest cock sucker and that’s saying something bc blade is the one who has the biggest oral fixation out of the three of them. he’ll place wet kisses to the weeping tip of your cock, running the slitted snake like tongue over the weeping slit of your cock teasingly before wrapping it around your dick. loves the scent and the taste of your pre, basically addicted to it as he opens his mouth wider, slipping your cock inside the warm cavern of his mouth inch by inch

but be aware that he will also try to take advantage of this position. he will try to bat his lashes at you so he can continue suckling on your strap like he would be sucking on a lolipop, all under the guise to ‘make you happy’. when in reality, he would try to make you cum over and over to try and get you overstimulated. when in such position, just fist his hair and fuck his throat. gets him crying in no time like the crybaby he is

“… bamboo whispers in the w-wind, a secret pa-aaangh! aah aaah hmgk♡︎ a s-secret pa-act... ♡︎!“ the soothing voice of your lover drawls out into a weak sniffle, hands gripping the book filled with love poetry from his home planet tightly. so tight, you feared that he might just tear the book apart with his claws. you had crawled into his bed yet again to torment him today, the dildo hitting all the sensitive spots in his gushing cunt, dan heng couldn’t help but weakly whine when your hands around his waist tightens to not let him move.

“go on. i’m listening” you coo out, forcing him to stay still on your lap while his voice continue to drawl out. sniffles and broken pleads replacing his ever so stoic mask, a voice that is usually so cold and distant, always scolding other turning into one of mindless blabber about how badly he wanted your strap to fuck his pussy. you couldn’t help but laugh.

“is that what it says on the pages? i may be still learning the strokes but the next line seems to be the stroke for two” you point at the kanji on the book he was holding in his shaking hands, the strokes of the language seeming familiar to you. it was an easy kanji to read after all. yet not to your boyfriend it seems.

“please! p-please please move! i beg you, [n-naamee]♡︎ you gotta fuck meeh♡︎ you gotta fuck me you gotta fuck me— you have to fuck meeegck—♡︎♡︎!!” dan heng squeals, shaking thighs bucking down onto your dick, trying to gain some friction. it was enough, he had read you hundreds of love poetries from his home planet. he had been taking your pronged torture for long enough, please just fuck his cunt already!

“so impatient” you huff, putting the book away with a book marker tucked between the pages before hooking your hands under his knees. pulling him up and over until dan heng was left wailing at the sudden change in position. hooking your arms under his knees, his legs are left dangling in the air with nothing to support himself but for his hands to cling to your biceps. even then, he couldn’t hold for long as he jolts about in your arms like a hopping bunny, painting your dildo in his cum when the tip kissed his cervix.

“guuchk♥︎!! d-deep! aah ah naahmg haah t-too deep♡︎♡︎ [n-name] you’re f-fucckk fuck fuck—♡︎♥︎ fucking my cerviinxx my ceerrvv—♡︎♡︎ mngh unngya♥︎!” punched out sobs comes from his pretty lips, drawling out into whiny cries when you move him up and down. you could see the bulge in his tummy appear and disappear every little moment. every jolt, every gasp, every little whiny cry making the bulge in his tummy to get more detailed. he was so adorably small.

“‘m sorry, darling. i’m sorry, didn’t mean it. didn’t mean to fuck you this deep” you coo out apologies, lifting him just a bit so your strap won’t sink so deep to the point it would kiss his cervix. as much as you loved your crybaby gasping and writhing, you didn’t want the reason for such reaction to be pain.

claws scratching at every inch of skin he could touch, jaw slack open in a silent scream, you could barely make out his shrill yell of what appears to be your name when dan heng squirts over your cock after just a few thrusts. you could see the overflowing amount of cum just dripping down your cock, trailing down to your legs and staining the mattress. with a click of your tongue, you pinched his clit, making the shorter man sniffle with a squeal.

“‘m soowryyy… sorry sorry—♡︎ d-didn’t mean to be bad... s-soowwh uunhg hyaagk ungc gugcck—♥︎♥︎!!”

the hissy bitch

alright, so i know i’m going into territory that has been charted way too many times before by blade lovers standard but he def has piercings. on his nipples, tongue and on his clit. probably got the first three by losing a drunk bet or something or maybe he just wanted it but the last one, the clit one, is definitely his latest piercing. one that he got after his relationship with you began and he had made the sudden rash decision to get one so he could see your reaction and to feel you just messing with it while fucking him

there is a REASON why he always keeps his chest bandaged up. there is a goddamn reason and that reason is his nipple piercings and the fact that his chest is generally very sensitive im being delusional

so what does that bring and why have i specified it? simple. titty fucking. nipple stimulation. seeing his pretty big, round chest jiggle every time your cock sinks back into his dripping cunt. pinch it, roll it, tug on them, suckle on them, do anything to him with his nipple piercing and he’s scratching at your back, mauling it like an animal

the reason i see him as a hissy bitch is because he likes to throw small temper tantrums when he gets too overstimulated. he’s crying, begging, hitting your shoulders, back, scratching at them and leaving deep red scratch marks, perhaps even breaking the skin sometimes. how come blade get overstimulated quickly? because he is very touch deprived. he’s been alone and immortal for too damn long and his ass is fucking touch starved. i just know it in my bones

genuinely, he is indeed very touch starved. since his rebirth as an immortal, he had felt nothing but pain, anguish and suffering and therefore, has basically gotten immune to touches. especially the violent and bloody ones. but gentle, tender, affectionate ones? find him jumping away from your soft hands like a frightened cat, it’s goddamn heartbreaking. so when he finally gets his cunt fucked, blade would be overstimmed too fast due to receiving a sudden abundance of affection and touches

will shake his head ‘no’ when asked if you would wanna stop due to his tears. you were just concerned but blade didn’t wanted this onslaught of pleasure to stop. desperately rides your fingers, mouth, strap — anything. loves the feeling of being on top of you, gives him the slight feeling of being in control. until it all gets thrown out the window when you force him to stop bouncing, hands gripping his hips tightly as a warning. will whine and try to grind down, trying to chase that high again but will only end up with a pout and hissy tears falling down his cheeks

another one who loves the feeling of being stuffed full and overstimulated. it’s almost like he gets high from the feeling. loves having his pussy fucked in any way you please until he can’t stay on his hands or feet without shaking. it’s just so cute to see him shaking like a fawn when fucking him doggy style

prepare to have yourself used as a chew toy as well as a scratcher. blade’s almost like a cat, hissy and whiny but also so greedy and preferring certain things in certain manner. will bite at your shoulders, hands, fingers to muffle himself but also to try and get his shit together. will scratch at your back, thighs, wherever he could reach. such a spoiled brat

when eating him out, be sure to give an extra care and love to his clit piercing. constantly flicking it with your tongue would usually work though, gets his legs all shaky and jolty soon enough. maybe pair it with flicking his pierced nubs and bladie will be squirting into your mouth with an embarrassing high pitched shriek. make sure to clean up all of his mess before diving right back into his gushing cunny. he may not say it but he will expect you to go back to eating him out like he’s your last meal

has the BIGGEST oral fixation out of the three of them. like, down bad, delicious, scrumptious, sloppy oral fixation. and he is happy to give it 90% of the times due to his tongue piercing. knows how good it makes you feel and how you like to see his pretty face between your legs, sucking on the large dildo like his life depends on it. not a single thought or a single moment of choking from him, it’s almost like he doesn’t have a gag reflex

you just came back from mission, from being away from him even for a single day? unacceptable. let him bend over for you, you can get your stress out by fucking his already dripping wet pussy. too tired? that’s fine. take of your pants and get comfortable cuz’ he can stay between your legs for days

not a single minute of respite has greeted you ever since you came back from your latest mission, stepping foot into your shared home with your stoic lover. perhaps the single gentle kiss to your cheek before he started to leave slobbering wet kisses on your lips was the only warning and moment of rest you have gotten. not even shoes off yet and blade was already unbuckling your belt, giving you the puppy eyes and grumbling about how you’ve been away for too damn long. whining about how much he missed you and needed your strap to fuck him dumb. how his pretty pussy had missed you so much.

“n-nnghyaa♡︎♡︎ m-missed you... missed you s’ much, [name]! f-fuck me fuck me fuck me, fuck your favorite cunt gyyuck—♥︎♥︎ a-aaanh! haah ah ah mmngk—♡︎♥︎!!” unusually docile red eyes roll to the back of his skull, jaw going slack wide open as you push his legs up, feeling your strap hit him deeper than he thought was possible. he could feel your weight push him down, keeping it still on the bed and to stop him from wiggling his hips entirely. this new position caused his cat like pupils to widen, turning into heart shapes as you chuckle at the dazed look in his eyes.

“such a needy brat” you coo out in a condescending manner, pushing his legs up in the air with your hands hooked under his knees to keep him in place. pulling out until halfway out, you sink back into blade’s dripping cunt. a squeal tearing from his throat alongside the filthy wet squelch of his cunt tightening around your dildo. it was so easy to get him dumb.

“t-too nngh much! too muchtoomuchtoomuch♡︎! fucking m-my womb—♡︎ [n-name], y-youuwrr crush— crushing my wombgg aangh ah ah! gyyuck eengh aaangh nyaagh♥︎♥︎!!” the familiar feeling of his nails scratching at your arms takes place, tearing at the skin, clawing at any part of your body he can come in contact with. a desperate attempt to ground his already long gone mind, too deep into the throes of pleasure that he didn’t even realize his shaking hands were weakly pulling your hips to fuck deeper into his warm walls.

“don’t be so dramatic, bladie. i won’t be able to crush your womb in this position” you coo out mockingly, wiping away the fat globs of tears that continue to pour of his eyes. red and yellow eyes rolled to the back of his skull, wide open mouth letting out the most salacious squeals and shrieks of your name and how you were fucking his womb falling out. legs weakly dangling in the air, jolting and bristling at every deep thrust you fuck into his velvety walls. the lewd wet squelching noises were alongside your grunts and blade’s whiny sobs were the only noise in the room. you would probably get noise complaints the next morning due to blade’s loudmouthed blabbering self.

letting go of one of his legs, you shove your fingers into his mouth. almost as if it was an instinct, blade’s tongue wet your fingers. suckling on the two digits as it his life depended on it with the most cutest heart shaped pupils staring at you. once you deemed them wet enough, you take your fingers out of his mouth. an action that blade showed his hatred towards as his pierced tongue comes past his lips, trying to chase after your fingers.

“gghcck—♡︎♥︎♥︎♥︎!!” a sharp wail taking place as blade arches his back, his whole body shaking, soft big tits jiggling when you pinched at his pierced clit. rolling, tugging, flicking at the hardened nub as blade sobs about cumming before drenching your cock with his squirting. you had thought of him to be satisfied with it, but turns out you have underestimated your lover’s neediness when his strong scarred thighs comes to wrap around your waist, legs locked behind your back when you tried to pull out.

sigh… it’s times like this that makes you glad for your amount of stamina.

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milktiicup · 13 days ago

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Hear me out about potentially getting pregnant because of Mr. Crawling! I wonder how he’d act.. is it even possible for him to do so? Would he realise the state of his partner?

(Feel free to ignore omg so sorry for ANOTHER ask..)

-🦁 anon!!

one, two, three!

“You, me, little human…”

warnings. pregnancy!!!! duh!!!! reader is still ungendered tho but obv is carrying a baby

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🌊 ⋅ ˚✮ chapter 2

It’s not possible to get pregnant by a ghost, right? Right?

You take a seat at the side of the bathtub, and drop the test to the floor. You hold your head in your hands, fingers digging into your scalp. You let out a growl of a sigh, dragging a hand down your face. Not only do you have so many questions of how it was even biologically possible, what the hell is the kid gonna come out like? Human? Monster? Some half half amalgamation?

How the fuck are you gonna explain this to Mr. Crawling?!

There’s a knock at the bathroom door. Speak of the devil...

“Long time room. Worry you. You okay?” he says.

“I’m okay!” slips out of your mouth without thinking, and you curse under your breath. Just what the hell are you doing, and what the fuck are you going to do?

You can’t blame yourself for having the hots for Mr. Crawling - he’s completely obsessed with you! And he’s… really cute. He even sleeps in your bed, for the love of God. You two were totally gonna bone anyway! Like seriously, how are you even meant to explain the concept of a condom to him when the language he speaks has like one hundred words? Matter of fact, how are you meant to explain pregnancy?

“You not okay,” he insists from outside the door.

The panic swirls in your chest, the silence on the other side of the door is heavy. You can almost picture him out there, frowning, his hair slightly dishevelled, his head tilted as he waits for a response. You squeeze your eyes shut and groan. This situation was impossible.

If it was literally anything else, anything else but a baby, you’d just pretend it didn’t exist.

You unlock the bathroom door and open it wide for him to crawl inside. You slump on the floor, back against the tub and pick the test back up again.

“You sad,” Mr. Crawling mumbles, slotting himself beside you. He reaches a long arm around your shoulder, pulling you tight to his chest. It’s comforting, you think, even if his heart doesn’t beat. His cool touch is grounding.

You sigh and clutch his kimono. “Problem,” you utter, closing your eyes. “Big problem.”

“Problem? You hurt?” he asks, his voice softer now, searching.

You shake your head, fiddling with the test in your lap. “Not hurt. Just… confused. Scared.”

His fingers brush against your face, tilting it gently toward him. Despite his eyeless visage, you can feel the weight of his focus on you, as if he’s trying to see through your words to the heart of the matter. “Me help. You talk.”

Clutching the test, you find the courage to attempt to explain, “So, uhm… remember when we were close? Like… really, really close?” You tug at his kimono. “Uhm... close with no clothes?”

“Close… no clothes,” he replies, slowly. His lips curl into a small smile. “Me like close.”

Despite the situation, you can’t help the giggle that escapes you. Of course, he likes it. “Well, uhm… Uhm…” God, this was really hard. “You, me- one, two. You, me- make three.” You hold up the test. “Make little human.”

There’s a prolonged silence in the air. You gulp. He’s uncharacteristically still.

“Three?”

“Three… You, me, little human. Little us.”

He tilts his head, his fingers brushing your hand as if to better understand the strange object you’re pretended him with. “Tiny us?”

You nod, clutching the test tighter. “Yeah. Like… part me, part you. Together. In here.” You gesture toward your stomach, cheeks burning.

His focus shifts to your abdomen, and he hovers his hand over your stomach. “In you,” he murmurs, the words heavy with wonder. “Little human.”

“I’m scared,” fumbles out of your mouth before you can think. “Really scared, Crawling.”

Mr. Crawling freezes, his long fingers hovering above your stomach as if he’s afraid to touch. Then his hand settles gently, his cool palm pressing against you, gentle, careful. His other arm wraps around you tighter.

“No scared,” he says firmly, his voice more resolute than you’ve ever heard it. “Me here. Always. Me help you. Help little human.”

Okay,” you whisper, clutching at his kimono. The tears don’t go further than the tip of your eyelashes. Mr. Crawling is quick to wipe them away. “Okay. We’ll figure this out. Together.”

“Together,” he repeats. He looks at your stomach, a flicker of curiosity and pride in his expression. “Tiny us… strong. Like you.”

You let out a laugh, the tension in your chest finally easing. “Yeah,” you murmur, closing your eyes. “Maybe like you, too. But let’s hope it doesn’t have your hair. It’s gonna be hell to brush.”

He doesn’t quite understand the joke, but the faint smile on his lips stays, and for the first time, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, it’ll all be okay.

#homicipher #mr crawling #mr crawling fluff #mr crawling x reader #mr crawling hcs #homicipher x reader #homicipher fluff #homicipher hcs

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midwestprincesss · 7 months ago

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never say sorry -sub!art donaldson x fem!reader smut

notes- this was literally supposed to be super short but i got carried away cause i am a whore (and proud of it)

cw- art is a little insecure:( , mentions of him having sex with tashi before (NO TASHI SLANDER I LOVE MY GIRL BUT IT'S FOR THE PLOT😭) , he cums prematurely (like...really..) art's a whiny little slut, art keeps calling reader love ( i got a thing for that pet name sorry y'all) , reader calls art 'artie' once cus it's cute&idc.

thinking about art constantly apologizing while having sex :( like ur unzipping his pants and he's already bucking his hips up into your hand, and then immediately muttering "sorry":(( my babyyy

so at first you think that okay, whatever, it's just something that slips out

but then he does it SO many times that you're actually starting to be concerned

like, you're giving him head and he moans a little too loudly- he's apologizing again. while kissing, you pull back for air and he still follows you, mouth half-open, wanting more - but then he realizes and he apologizes again.

but one time he really caught you off guard-

it had been a long day for him, spending almost all day training for his upcoming match. he barely had any time to rest, so he comes back to his dorm, taking off his shirt and pants, getting into bed with you only with his baby-blue boxer briefs on.

he kisses you. he's so fucking tired, but he still kisses you. 'cause he needs you, especially after the day he just had. you could feel his hard cock, practically begging you to take his boxers off.

"please love, wanna see you" he says while tugging at your top, watery eyes glistening with tears waiting to be spilled.

you take it off and unclasp your bra, little whimpers leaving his lips at the sight of you over him, with your tits out. you would love to take your time with him, really. to hear him beg and plead for you. but he's so eager, and so polite about it too- you just can't do that to him right now. so when you take off his boxers, his cock immediately jumps up, slapping his lower abdomen, right over his strawberry-blond happy trail.

"aww baby, look at you. you're so pretty aren't you?" you smile down at him, admiring how his legs shake slightly at every word you say. "hmm? aren't you?" you repeat. "mmghn- yeah, i- uhh i am" he says, eyes almost rolling back from the lack of touch. "you're what? say it." he sighs. you do this a lot. 'self love is important' you usually tell him- but not now. not when his dick is out, aching and leaking and begging to be touched. but just for the sake of it- just because he wants to please you, he says it. "i'm pretty"

"good boy," you coo, finally bringing a finger down to his cock, only to circle his pink, wet tip. and with that, he loses it. his mind goes blank, and he can't help it- all the waiting, the anticipating made him lose control of his body. he really didn't want to cum, he wanted to be good for you, but you were just so hot, he couldn't hold back. so immediately after his white, thick and warm liquid lands partially on his stomach and a bit on your hand, he starts babbling out apologies.

"i'm sorry, i'm so sorry love, please don't be mad, please- i'll clean up after myself- oh my god i'm so sorry-" he was so obviously tired, he could barely make up the words, yet he still continued apologizing. until you cut him off.

"art, baby- you dont need to apologize to me! what's up with this" you ask, softly. "you know i love making you feel good. and it's even better when i get feedback like this" you giggle. his cheeks turn bright pink as he covers his face.

"but i literally came the second you touched me" he mumbles, shyly.

you kiss his shoulder, smiling. "and it was hot."

"i- I don't know how to explain it to you, love- i just don't want to disappoint you. tashi used to hate it when i did any of this, she hated hearing me, and stuff like that- sometimes it made me feel like i was an object to her or something, y-you know? she'd get mad at me, and uh- it wasn't great."

"oh." you could actually feel your heart breaking for the boy. he was so sweet, he never deserved any of that. "well i'm not tashi, and i definitely won't get mad at you for anything like that. i like hearing you, and believe it or not, this was really fucking hot. you're letting me know i'm making you feel good. what's wrong with that?"

"just don't wanna upset you." art shrugs.

"i promise you artie, you could never upset me." you peck his lips and he smiles. "now let's clean you up"

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norrizzandpia · 7 months ago

Text

HE WON! LAN WON!

Summary: A long awaited win warrants a shouting Y/n, the proud girlfriend of Lando Norris, 2024 Miami Grand Prix Race Winner. Not only that, but also a smiling Lando now ready for questions about their future.

Warnings: LITERALLY NOTHING EXCEPT A SEXUAL COMMENT AND ME SOBBING IM SO HAPPY FOR THIS MAN I DONT EVEN KNOW (also like a theme of marriage and a comment about having children lol)

Note: i was screaming.

Y/n could feel the sweat drip down her back as her hands shook against her mouth. She had come into this race, along with Lando, assuming there would be a P2 secured for him with the new upgrades, but as the gap between him and Max got larger, it became clear it was his time. His time to let go of that stupid record, the one that had crushed him to hold, of having the most podiums without a race win. Her heart jumped every time he rounded a corner, praying to any kind of higher power to not let a safety car or a jittery move made by him ruin his chances again of winning. She couldn’t stomach the thought of that, he couldn’t either. And by the faces surrounding her in the McLaren Garage, she knew nobody else could.

Everybody held their breath, nerves overwhelming them as their eyes stuck to the screen. Could this be it? Could this be the moment where he took the title as race winner?

It seemed so as he rounded the last corner and his triumph resulted in cheers being heard for miles. Y/n didn’t realize the tears falling from her face until Andrea ran over to her, hugging her and wiping her tears with a laugh.

“HE WON!” She shouted in his face, mascara very likely smudging around her eyes. Andrea nodded at her and hugged her once more before moving on to the engineers behind her. Zak was the second person to find her, screaming with her and high-fiving her when she noticed the glistening in his eyes.

“Are you crying?!” She laughed. Zak shook his head, but wiped away the wetness right under his eye.

She giggled, “I won’t tell anyone.”

He chuckled along with her before the moments dawned on her once more.

She turned around to face the engineers, “HE WON!”

They screamed it back at her as if to try and convince themselves of it, too surreal for their comfort. There was a massive group hug between Y/n and the engineers, all of them having seen just how hard Lando worked for this exact achievement.

“Y/N!” Zak screamed from across the room. When she turned around, she found him aggressively waving his hand, motioning for her to come join him in congratulating Lando.

She squealed before taking off, leaving the man behind quickly.

On her way there, sprinting chaotically, she haphazardly facetimed Cisca, Lando’s mother. When the call went through, their two tear soaked faces met one another and they only began to cry more.

“HE DID IT, CISCA! HE WON! LAN WON!” She screamed, fans and bystanders taking out their phones to videotape the cute moment of loud support from the girlfriend of the newest race winner.

Their cameras caught her flying down the pit lane, screaming into her phone with Cisca over how elated she was for Lando. To add to the charm, the videos captured her tripping and almost face planting on the floor from the sheer pace of her legs. Her cheeks heated up in embarrassment, but she was quick to put it all aside as she pushed through the masses of people, waving her phone around and yelling at everyone to move away because she had the mother of Lando Norris on the phone.

Her body was smashed against the railings as his car came into view and her tears only came falling down harder. Andrea, who was standing off to the side and outside of the barriers, ran over to her, moving the tape up enough for her to come under. She gave him a questioning look, “Aren’t I supposed to stay behind it?”

Andrea shook his head, “Lando would’ve forced you to come out of it anyway. Just be prepared for the trample you’ll get when he gets out of his car.”

She laughed and her head whipped around at the sounds of intense cheering, seeing her boyfriend practically fly out of his car and throw himself into the arms of his team. Cisca laughed at it all on the phone, commenting to Y/n about how chaotic her son had turned out to be.

“Chaotic? I think he’s just clinically insane, hate to say it.” Y/n giggled, shaking her head at the truly concerning things Lando had said to or done with her in the years they’d been together.

“WHERE’S Y/N? DID NOBODY GET HER FROM THE GARAGE? WHAT?” Lando’s body leaned over to one of the engineers, the poor man trying to tell him how close his girlfriend was.

Finally, after a few failing attempts, the man just pointed and yelled, “SHE’S OVER THERE, MATE!”

Lando’s head turned, eyes locking with hers and softening. Andrea quickly took the phone out of her hands, knowing she would want two empty hands to welcome her boyfriend with. And just in time because Lando was sprinting to her, screaming about what he had just done.

“DID YOU SEE, LOVE?! Y/N, I WON A RACE! I’M A RACE WINNER!” His volume was deafening, but the way he crashed into her, holding her body to his as she stumbled back, said more.

It was no secret how in love the two were. Having met four years ago in the paddock, they were inseparable ever since. From the small and subtle touches to the strong statements of adoration and love, there was no fighting or doubting the two would end up sharing the same last name. Y/n had been open in the months leading up to Miami that she had begun manifesting his race win, touching many hearts in the process. Posting pictures of her journal with the sentence “Lando Norris is a Grand Prix Race Winner” written over and over and over again, his mirror with sticky notes in her handwriting with the same eight words. She stopped at nothing. Y/n even took to forcing Lando to make honey jars with her, that specific phrase on a small note inside, so that maybe it would “stick to him”. She was completely uneducated in the world of manifestation and rituals, but she liked to think she was somehow involved in this.

Nonetheless, it all paid off as he reeled back, tears in his eyes, and kissed her sweetly in front of many. His kisses were soft and hasty, drawing back every few seconds to plant another one on her mouth. His arms tightened around her frame and his lips rested against the shell of her ear, “Thank you for everything, baby. I couldn’t have ever done this without you and your spells. I love you so much and there are not enough words to express how grateful I am that you are standing here with me today.”

She grasped his cheeks, pulling him back so their eyes could meet once more, and wiped his cheeks. He did the same to her as she whispered, “This was all you. I hope you never doubt how talented you are ever again because of this, Lan. Everyone is so proud of you, we always have been, but it’s heightened today because you deserve this so much. You deserve a lot of things, this is the start of many.” She brought his face closer to hers, their noses touching, “I am so happy for you, Lan.”

The tears under his eyes pooled around her thumbs at her words and he just shook his head, kissing her again before Cisca’s voice was loading emitting from the phone beside them.

“LANDO NORRIS! YOU ARE A RACE WINNER, HONEY!” She screamed, a slight crack from the speaker.

He blushed, “Thank you, mum. I love you so much. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

Adam’s head popped out from the side of the frame, “What about me?!” He said with a smile and Lando only laughed.

The parents riddled off excited murmurs of support and love before Lando was being ushered away.

A slight crease to his forward told Y/n he didn’t want to leave. She squeezed his hand, “Go, Lan. I’ll be with the engineers below while you get your trophy. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure your parents have the best view.”

He shook his head, “I want you to come with me, though.”

She sighed, kissing his cheek, “No, Lan. This is your moment to shine. Go savor it, baby.”

His eyes flickered to the man waiting off to the side, waving his hand as to tell him where he needed to go, and back to his Y/n. The woman he had fallen in love with all that time ago, the woman he had been waiting for his entire life, the woman who had been with him throughout this entire journey, and the woman who he was elated still put up with him long enough to see this moment as the love of his life. He wanted her to share in the victory with him, but the pleading in her eyes told him that wasn’t the right decision. She was right. This was the moment he’d always been waiting for. This was his time to take that top step and cement his presence in it by himself.

Another reason why he loved her so much. She always knew what he wanted even when he didn’t.

Kissing and hugging her again, he ran off.

When he disappeared behind the random door that led him to his podium, Y/n turned to Andrea and Lando’s parents, the ones still on the phone with their smiling faces, they all just looked knowingly at her.

“What?” She giggled.

Cisca was the first to speak, “If there isn’t a ring stuffed away somewhere in you two’s apartment, I’ll be damned.”

—

After the champagne spraying and Lando’s eyes never leaving hers from his high podium, the two were reunited in the McLaren Garage.

His hand slid into hers before leaning his heavy body on her, “I’m so tired. That car was hot as fuck.”

Y/n’s fingers trailed up his back before sinking into his hair, tugging and scratching lightly, “Oh? Tired? That’s a shame.”

Lando let out a confused noise, “Why?”

She turned her head so her lips were close to his ear, “Because I was already planning your post race win celebration. The one in the privacy of our hotel room.”

He choked on the oxygen he was in the midst of inhaling, “I’m not tired anymore.”

“Really? The car was hot, no?” Zak stepped into their conversation, having no idea what he was interrupting.

Lando laughed and Y/n just stuttered, “Yeah, he was just saying it was. I think it’s the adrenaline of winning that’s making him feel awake.”

Zak’s mouth fell open in understanding before he stepped closer and patted Lando on the back, “I’m really proud of you, kid.”

The two shared a quick hug and Lando smiled, “Thank you for all the support you’ve shown me.”

When they parted ways and Lando led Y/n back to his car, he turned to her in the driver’s seat. His eyes bore into hers and didn’t let go as he took her hands, “I have never been as in love with anyone as I am with you and you don’t understand how happy I am you’re here to share in this with me.”

She caressed his cheekbone, “I’m so happy to be here with you too, Lan. You deserve this and so many more wins.”

There was something evident he wanted to say, but it was clear he was hesitant. Y/n could see it. Not wanting to push him, she just smiled and clutched his hand, silently telling him she was safe to confide in, that she would never leave him. Her hand holding was a promise of forever.

Just what Lando needed.

“Promise when I get down on one knee, you’ll say yes?” He whispered.

Her mind took her back to Cisca and Adam and Andrea when they all looked on at her as the future wife of their favorite boy. Her cheeks blushed, “I promise I’ll say yes.”

He exhaled a breath, “Thank God. I have a mental list of all the achievements I want to earn in my life and there’s only one thing left on it.”

She gave him a confused look as he started the car, “What is it?”

He looked at her like it was obvious, “Marrying you. Winning a race was on there,” He smiled, “check. Get into Formula One, check. Meet the woman of my dreams,” A bigger smile, “check. Treat her well,” His eyebrows raised.

She laughed and nodded, “Check.”

He dipped his head down, “Exactly. The last thing on there is to marry her - you.”

“Nothing else?” She asked, toying with his fingers as they rested on her thigh.

He moved his head from side to side, “I assume I will add things to it as we go on in life. Maybe have kids with you, that could be fun. But, for right now, just that. I’d like to bask in the happiness of knowing everything worked out in the end.”

She brought his the back of his hand to her lips and kissed the skin, “It always will, Lan.”

They met eyes as he came to a stop at a light and the comforting color of hers made Lando come to the most beautiful revelation of his life.

As long as she was with him, it truly always would work out.

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screampied · 8 months ago

Note

can you please please write manhandling & squirting w gojo :(

❤︎ ໋𓈒 telling your best friend satoru that you can’t make yourself squirt

warnings. fem! reader, manhandling, praise, fingering, talking you through it, rev cowgirl, dirty talk, squírting, mdni.

legs sprawled, toes all curled up, you were desperately trying to make yourself squirt. it’s never happened to you and you wanted to experience what it was like—you read through various erotic stories of how it feels way different than just your everyday ordinary orgasm. with your teeth softly digging against your bottom lip, your fingers gently rummage throughout and against your clit. after a while though, you end up sighing—on the verge of giving up before as if on literal cue, your best friend gojo opens the door.

“hey, is it any more . . oh! uh,” he’d murmur, walking in on you with your legs sprawled all open. gojo suppresses a giggle that was about to escape from his lips before he utters. “. . . should i come back another time? you seem busy.”

there was smugness dripping underneath his tone and you were far too aroused to feel embarrassed. “no,” you puff. “i need help, satoru.”

“yeahh you seem like it,” he snickers. running a hand through his hair, he hums to himself before his eyes avert towards your lazily slid to the side panties. “is that what you call fingering yourself?”

“. . . shut up,” you chastise, and his sly smirk only widens. gojo stares at you for a long while before inching closer towards you—plopping down beside you. the mattress jolts a bit from his weight and he cocks his head to the left in pure amusement. “i need help. i can’t … i can’t squirt.”

gojo sneers. “oh, you sure can. you just don’t know what the fuck you’re doing, angel, heh.”

he had such a smart mouth, the dramatically frustrated sigh that deserts past your lips was too adorable—in his eyes at least.

the way you were so dedicated to making yourself have a proper finish was so cute . . but you couldn’t, you needed his help—you wanted his help.

“hm but okay,” he shrugs with a cheeky grin, getting right beside you. gojo lightly grabs your wrist, peering at how you’d already soak two of your digits with sloppy amounts of slick before he titters. “aw, poor thing. these useless fingers just can’t do shit, huh?”

“just fucking help me.” you grouse at him, a pouty scowl ceasing against your lips firmly.

“fine, girl fine,” he rolls his eyes. “i’ll take it from here.”

and he does because once he starts to ‘help’ you, it’s in a way that has you merely speechless.

with your neck slightly whirling towards the left, you’re mindlessly bouncing up at down on his thick cock. you’re faced the opposite way, your back leans up against his chest. gojo holds you up with no problem, a brief squeeze on your thighs and you start to whimper at how close his fat tip thwacks against a particularly sensitive spot.

“f— fuckk, ‘toru,” you’d whimper out, feeling him reach the deep components inside of you.

so deliciously good, you felt a few droplets of your own saliva trickle past your lips as you slump back against him. “so deep, stuffin’ me f— full, ‘toru.”

“. . . hah,” he pants heavily, tensed abs flexing each time he drags you up and down. he’s treating you like a rag doll. you didn’t expect him to do all this, having you all up and down. although, who were you to complain—he was reaching every spot without an ounce of trouble. “guess i can reach better than those fingers ever could, hm angel?”

“y—yes, yesss,” you stammer, your voice all shaky, trembling on each syllable that you spat out. “satoru, harder. fuck me, f—fuckkk me.”

you repeat the same words out your spit-glossed lips. with such a firm grip, he’s making your hips slam up and down—such a rigorous rhythm…

you try to grind a bit against him but you only end up slouching against his bare chest. it was simply no secret, gojo was known to be lengthy, longer than thick when it came to his cock. every orifice, he makes sure to locate every spot inside of your gummy walls with the crown of his shaft.

gush after gush, you’re spasming on him and you make a cute attempt at grabbing his wrist, clammy hands piercing into his skin. “s-so good, more ‘toru. right there, pleaseee . . !”

“i got ya.” he huffs, warm breaths waft right up against your earlobe. he’s holding you in place, each time he bounces you up again and again.

your eyes do that cute thing where it rolls all the way back into your cranium. it’s cute, lewd . . but cute.

with your pretty pupils dilated, all you see is nothing but pure splotches of white. his cock’s buried so deep that you’re stuck in a trance, a trance you never wanted to escape from.

“. . . awww,” he purrs against your ear, a big hand softly cupping your chin. he feels some of your translucent spit pour down the sides of your lips before smearing it over your mouth with his thumb. “such a messy baby. you feel it comin’ don’t you?” he teases, nipping a kiss near your neck once you squeeze his wrist a tad bit tighter. “oh. you want me to hold your hand, is that it?”

“sato—ru,” you whine, a cute trembly voice making a special appearance.

but oh, the stretch…

it was so good simply divine.

each second is spent with gojo’s dick delving into your clenched walls. a syrupy ear ringing whimper snatches right out of your throat before you speak once more, “satoru, ‘toru, s—satoru.”

“hey, that’s me,” he grunts with a coy grin, feeling how well you clamp down on him—of course, he’d make a joke out of nearly anything. you’re like a bobbling doll, feeling your cunt squeeze him tight before within seconds, your thighs began to quaver.

with your legs quavering, it was as if a volcano was preparing to erupt. violently, your legs start to tense and you’re steadily pulsing and pulsing. something’s coming and it’s coming fast…

it had to be exactly what you were thinking. it felt a bit different though. pressure presses down against you and you feel gojo’s fingers intertwine with yours. “heh, you’re kinda dramatic, huh?” he teases—and right before he can give you another snarky reply, he brings your hips to an abrupt halt. teeth chomping down together, your jaw insignificantly tightens and you feel a certain sharp twinge for at least three and a half seconds.

“i- i’m about to s-squirt, ‘toru,” you warn him, and he nips another chaste kiss near the crook of your neck.

“nuh uh. you’re going to squirt, trust me. give it to me, yeah. grind against me ‘n just listen to my voice, mhm.”

his voice.. just the way he spoke to you in such a playfully deep tone was enough to make you finish on the spot.

gojo holds you still. he’s still buried deep inside. stuffing you fill of hefty inches before he brings a hand towards your swollen puffy entrance. “damn, she really is so fuckin’ sloppy,” he grunts, starting to maneuver slow circles against your pussy. he makes haste with it though, and your lips part before moaning once you even hear the evidence yourself.

squelch, squelch, squelch..

it’s loud, it rings throughout your ears—each time, it’s louder than the next. he’s so sloppy with it too, no shame whatsoever. gojo then drags a soft thumb down your slit that was just sopping. everything felt so fervent - the way he’d strum his fingers against your cunt, only to then give it a concise spank.

“s-satoru, fuckkk.” you’d gasp, leaning way back with your legs still sprawled, “i—”

“now—don’t be rude, angel. she’s tryna speak to me, let her do her thing, baby,” and he clearly referring to your dripping wet pussy. he continues, rubbing against your clit at a much more rapid speed now. your legs could barely hold themselves open. mouth twitching, you feel a rupture on the very brink of rippling out of you before his spanks against your pussy come again, and again, and again…

“sloppy girl with a sloppy … fuckin’ … cunt.”

his words get more raspy and degrading and he’s way too into it to pause. with a thumb slowly tickling against your spasming nub, he watches at you moan a shrieking whine before not even seconds later, it happens. you gush out, and it’s a lot to where you even dampen gojo’s lap. thankfully he was prepared, keeping a towel underneath you just in case you were a bit too much of a soaked.

and soaked you were, it felt so good that you didn’t even know what to say… more like, you didn’t know what to think.

your mind was blank, equivalent to an empty canvas. he’s so mean, whispering such filthy murmurs into your ear before he lets you ride out your orgasm.

wet, you felt that entire word right between your legs. gojo’s still playing with you, cock stuffing your pussy full to the very brim before he feels you bare around him.

“. . seeeee,” he pants, humming in a soft tune.

he squeezes your folds tighter just to hear that honeyed mewl rip from your sweet lips. he gradually pulls out and now you’re just laying back against his chest with the dumbest expression. “told ya you didn’t know what the fuck you were doing,” he chaffs before making you turn your neck, dragging you into a deep kiss.

it catches you by surprise, you connect your lips against his and that’s when he makes you fall back. you watch with glossy eyes before he then grabs ahold of chin with one hand, brushing it tenderly against your skin. “say ah, open that pretty mouth for me ‘n taste what a messy girl you are.”

you felt your heartbeat go straight between your legs. once you loll out your tongue for him, staring right into his bright cerulean irises, he stuffs your mouth with two fingers. the same fingers that were covered in nothing but your sweet wet arousal. “yeah, run that tongue around my fingers ‘n taste it all, baby.”

you moan, swirling your tongue alongside his digits before you briefly end up gagging at the tips of his fingers massaging against the very back part of your throat.

“good girl,” he whispers—pulling his fingers out real slowly, he does this purposeful. a sheeny trail of your glistening saliva follows out from your lips before he gives you another long kiss before departing. “now, let’s do it again. but this time,” he utters, making you lie back against your back. “i’ll make you squirt just from my tongue, angel. let’s make that cute squirt velocity a little stronger, hm?”

#★vegasbaby.#gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #anime smut #female reader #jjk drabbles #jjk imagines

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ellecdc · 7 months ago

Note

the poly!marauders and lily x shy!reader!!!!! I genuinely cannot handle how much I love it omg🫠🫠 would u be willing to make it a series??

maybe remus being overprotective/possessive of her before the full moon and she’s just like ???? bc she doesn’t know about his furry problem🫣 but the rest of the group are just really casual about the way he’s acting like “oh yeah he does this sometimes, just ignore it” and r is just like 🤔?? bc he literally won’t let her go and wants her by his side and lap all day!!

aaaaaah my mind got carried away after reading ur amazing fic🩷🩷

so. stinkin. cute (thoughts and prayers for our shy!reader fr)

poly!marauders + lily x shy!reader close to Remus' time of the month

pt 1 // pt 2 // pt 3 // pt 4 // pt 5

CW: love bite/hickies, man-handling Remus [ik, ik]

You had been…seeing the boys and Lily for long enough now to have noticed a few peculiarities.

Black envelopes with green wax melts on the front that were delivered to Sirius were always confiscated immediately by Lily. Following the envelope's arrival, the rest of the group tended to fawn over Sirius for the rest of the day.

James was incredibly bright as a student in all subjects except Ancient Runes; prior to any quizzes or assignments, the group would play a game of “question pong” which was a twist on the muggle game ‘beer pong’ where cups were lined up and James would aim a ping pong ball and have to answer a question that was placed inside the cup that he had scored in. This amount of effort wasn’t placed into any of the others’ studies.

And what was obviously something the boys were ultimately accustomed to doing for Lily now extended to you when you couldn’t help but notice that at least one of them always escorted you to any of your classes in the dungeons.

Another peculiarity, however, seemed to centre around Remus.

Once a month, the group got a bit…sketchy before the three boys would disappear for about a day and then return basically back to normal.

Lily seemed to be accepting of these occurrences, so you opted not to concern yourself with it either; if it was something you needed to know, they’d tell you.

Right?

Because, you see, the sketchiness wasn’t just limited to their comings and goings; but rather Remus himself.

He was a tactile person, that much you knew to be true. He almost always had a hand on one of his partners, a boyfriend or a girlfriend in his lap, or an arm around someone’s shoulders.

And yes, you’d been growing increasingly accustomed to the affection.

But it seemed to you that around these bouts of…sketchiness, the affection seemed to grow into something rather possessive.

For example; it became clear to you that out of the three boys, James and Sirius were the ones who had a particular problem with Severus Snape, but during said period of said sketchiness, Remus nearly growled when he saw Lily and Snape discussing the upcoming Potions exam before he latched himself onto Lily’s side until Severus finally left.

And then at the quidditch game against Ravenclaw, a group of girls behind you, Lily, and Remus were giggling over how ‘fit the Gryffindor captain was’ which led to Remus standing abruptly, moving to lean against the railing of the Gryffindor stands to wave James over before he pressed a searing kiss to the chasers lips leaving them both rather breathless.

And then there was the party in the Ravenclaw common room for Benjy Fenwicks birthday where you, Lily, and Remus had been sitting watching James and Sirius dance with Marlene and Mary before Gilderoy Lockhart slid up behind Sirius in an attempt to dance with him. Sirius hardly had a chance to react before Remus was on the dancefloor and pulling his boyfriend into him, slotting their hips together and swaying sinfully to the beat all while maintaining eye contact with Gilderoy.

It seems important to note that Remus doesn’t dance.

All this to say, Remus got…sketchy.

But all of this had nothing on how he seemed to become around you.

You weren’t sure what caused the difference; perhaps it was because you were new to the group, perhaps it was because you were shy, or perhaps it was because he was more confident in his and the others’ roles within the dynamic. Either way, you were certain you were simply going to combust from the sheer amount of attention being devoted to you by your quietest boy.

You could hardly breathe or blink without him noticing, it seemed. And if you were within his vicinity, you were in his arms or on his lap.

Like right now…

You’d no sooner entered the Great Hall when you spotted Lily’s fiery red hair and made for the group before you were being man-handled to sit on the bench between his thighs.

“You almost missed breakfast, dove.” He offered quietly as he started preparing a plate for you right in front of your eyes.

“Jeez Moony, whatever happened to good morning.” Sirius teased as he shot you a wink.

“Morning angel.” James offered quickly as Lily smiled softly at you.

“Oh, hi! I..uhm, I’m not that hungry, Rem.” You tried, but it was apparently the wrong thing to say.

Remus’ movements hardly faltered as he continued buttering an english muffin for you, but everyone else seemed to freeze in their movements as they watched the two of you with bated breaths.

“Breakfast is important.” He said simply.

And believing he was quite close to actually hand feeding you the english muffin, you simply took it from his hands and shrunk into his chest at the attention.

You felt your heart leap both in affection and embarrassment as you felt him press his lips to your neck as you ate, looking to the other three in hopes of help or explanation, of which you received neither.

“I was wondering if you wanted to have a sleepover with me tonight?” Lily asked you as she sipped from her tea.

“Oh, I uhm…sure, that’d be nice. Is everyone going to be there?”

Remus kept his face pressed to your neck but the others shared a glance.

“No, we have a Marauders thing to attend to tonight, sweetness. Can we call dibs for the weekend?” Sirius offered, but his attempt was quickly shot down by Remus.

“Tomorrow.” He muttered from your neck as you fought the urge to shiver at the tickle of his breath.

“What about the night after that?” Lily tried again.

You let out a surprised (and perhaps nervous) squeak when Remus’ embrace tightened around your middle.

“Tomorrow.”

“Moons…” James tried, which finally got Remus’ face out from your neck in order to glare at his boyfriend.

“Tomorrow will be fine.” He proclaimed with an air of finality before he shoved his face unceremoniously back into your neck and latched his mouth to your jugular, eliciting another surprised yelp from your lips.

“How’s that for a good morning, Y/N?” Sirius asked with a wink.

You spent the rest of your breakfast wondering if this was your own personal heaven or your own personal hell.

Jury was still out by the time you left the Great Hall with a love bite displayed above the collar of your uniform.

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boyfhee · 5 months ago

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박성훈 、COUPLE CODE

sunghoon pouts when he's jealous.

featuring ⋆ rich boy! sunghoon x fem reader

contents ⋆ light kissing, jealous sunghoon ( 1061 )

notes ⋆ brought the heat back is making me want to write jealous fics for every single member i can't do this. anyway RICH BOY HOON WLCM BACK!!!!

“you’re pouting,” you say, reaching out to grab his hand but he slides it out of yours ever so swiftly.

“i’m not pouting,” sunghoon mumbles, not even caring to look at you as he makes long strides to a secluded corner, away from the chatter of the charity event his parents dragged him to along with themselves.

“you’re not good at lying,” you snort, following him wherever he’s going. he gives you a little run for himself when he’s like this— literally, because you keep increasing your pace, having a hard time keeping up with him. and when you finally do, hands around his wrist to stop him. “c’mon hoon, you don’t have to be jealous,”

“jealous?” he huffs, jerking his hand out of your grip as if you’ve insulted him, the words bruising his ego. “you’re saying i am jealous? what makes you say that?”

“it’s written all over your face,” you reply with a sigh, eyes glazing over his expression and the very obvious pout that he keeps denying is there. you simply stare at him for a few seconds before shaking your head and reaching out to cup his face. “you’re jealous and you’re pouting. it’s the most adorable thing in the world,”

and sunghoon would be lying if he said those words didn’t give him butterflies, especially with the way your hands are on his cheeks, squishing them a little to make his lips jut further in a pout.

“you don’t know what you’re saying,” he huffs in mock offence, eyes looking away from your face as if he does not like this, albeit having no attempt at pushing you away.

you know he’s just being dramatic, fists clenched on his sides even though you know his hands are itching to wrap themselves around your waist and pull you closer. it’s cute, even though you don’t particularly enjoy seeing him upset and it’s obvious that he can sense how much fun you’re having, which makes him pout even more.

“is this about jongseong?”

“jongseong?” his eyes narrow at your face, the said name ringing in his head again and again as he takes your hands and pulls them away from his face, although still holding him ever so gently, contrary to the look in his eyes. “you’re on a first name basis with him?”

“we’re friends,” you giggle at the way his eyes squint further at your words— and he couldn’t be more obvious with that pout on his lips. “i don’t attend these events often so dad wants me to socialise,”

“you’re socialising with the enemy,” sunghoon glares at you, prompting out a chuckle from you at his words. he frowns at your reaction, making you laugh even more.

“you hate him, i don’t,”

“boyfriend’s enemy is your enemy too. that’s the couple code,” he states bitterly, fingers slowly interlacing themselves with yours. his brows are furrowed in irritation, lips still in a never ending pout— you think you love this version of sunghoon more.

sunghoon doesn’t pout.

as he claims, most of the time, even though you know it’s not really true. he pouts when you don’t give him attention, or when he calls you in disappointment to cancel the dates because his dad wants him to assist him with work and election campaigns— you can hear that pout through the phone when he speaks. sometimes, when your phone rings up between your lazy make out sessions, he pouts again, and you have to make sure your eyes are on him as your fingers trace over his lips and cheeks while you’re trying to get over that call as soon as possible.

even now, when you two are silent and he’s looking down, fiddling with your fingers, you notice how his lips switch between a pout and an irritated scowl, the way he huffs at how absurd it all seems to him. and sunghoon is not a very jealous man— well, not until now. you’re used to him brushing it off when you tell him about some guy trying to get your number. ‘well you turned him down and you’re here in my arms so i don’t care—’ the usual response.

although, you know about the rivalry between him and jongseong— jay, as sunghoon would like you to address the other guy— nothing could’ve made you assume that your dear boyfriend would be jealous over just a ten minutes conversation with him. you didn’t want to make him jealous, but that doesn’t mean you’re not enjoying this little exchange.

“no more talking to jay. he’s the worst,” he mumbles, looking up at you with the exhibition of his bruised pride in his eyes. “and no more calling him jongseong too,”

“we’re friends, hoon,”

“he was interested in you,” he insists and words get stuck in your throat. it’s not a secret that jay had tried asking you out several times. there’s no doubt he was— or is still interested in you, if there’s any chance. you wouldn’t want to make sunghoon upset over that either way.

“valid,” you nod, agreeing with him to console his shattered ego, although trying to come to a conclusion in the middle. “okay, no more talking to jay when you’re not around,”

“good,” sunghoon wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer before pressing his lips against your cheeks. “he sucks anyway,”

“true, i don’t like his attitude,” you nod in an attempt to humour him.

and he’s not exactly convinced, since you and jay have been friends ever since you changed majors last year. he doesn’t ponder over that much, pouring all his attention on you and peppering your face with tender pecks.

“and he’s not cute like me either when he pouts,” he pulls back after capturing your lips in a chaste kiss and puts his forehead against yours. you know you two should be getting back to the event, knowing your absence will not go unnoticed by either of your parents, but sunghoon has been through a lot today— as he will say it later— and so you decide to hold him in your arms a little longer.

“of course not,” you say with a kiss on the top of his head when he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck. his continues to draw soft circles on your waist through your dress, something that makes you hug him tighter. “you’re the cutest,”

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xneens · 1 year ago

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three cents

you butt dial your boss during a girls night … the girls night where you told them you’d fuck aaron hotchner for three cents.

Girls' night out was wild, no one knew where you would end up. One night, you ended up on a boat and the next you were on a train to NYC. After getting thrown in jail with Emily, JJ, and Penelope during another night out, you all vowed to keep whatever happened during the night a secret from everyone, specifically Derek Morgan. Derek Morgan who had bailed all four of you out of jail, Derek Morgan who teased you relentlessly for weeks after.

After a long case, Emily suggested another girl’s night which all of you agreed on, desperately needing a celebratory drink after saving a little girl. It was around one in the morning when you got back to Quantico and though Aaron gave you the day off for tomorrow–or well, later today–all four of you decided to crash at Emily’s and drink to your heart’s content.

Popcorn and Hersey kisses lay on Emily’s coffee table, bottles of half-empty wine and jello shots litter the floor and you’re all giggling about whether to prank Derek by getting phone cases with a picture of him shirtless. You’re all on board and Penelope is getting them custom-made through a website she’s found.

“Speaking of Derek’s abs.” JJ drags the ‘s’ creating a hissing noise. She turns to you, grinning. “I’ve wanted to ask ever since you went to that Doctor Who convention with him. Do you like like Spence?”

You giggled, taking a small sip of wine, thinking about the genius. “Noooo. Spence is my friend. And he runs with his gun like it’s weighing him down. Besides, I only went to that Doctor Who convention because he went to see Barbie with me. He’s, like, too young for me, too.”

“He’s older than you.” Emily points out, smirking, knowing full well you liked older men. “He’s adorable and sweet.”

“Spencer is definitely cute and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t had a sex dream about him,” you confessed, smiling as the girls burst out laughing. “But he’s too … inexperienced. I like my men like I like my wine. Old.”

Your phone had been on mute since you entered the plane, not wanting to abruptly wake anyone up if they were resting, so not a single person in the room had heard your phone ringing or Aaron’s multiple “hello’s” trying to get your attention. All of you were oblivious to your boss listening in to the conversation.

“Is Rossi too old for you?” Penelope asked, inciting another round of giggles.

You nodded, finishing off your glass of wine. “Just a bit. I’ve seen pictures of him when he was in the Marines though, and I definitely would’ve been the fourth Mrs. Rossi back then.”

Emily cackled, a bit of red wine spilling from her full glass. “Okay, I have a question. Would you guys fuck Hotch for ten million dollars? Be honest here.”

“No!” both JJ and Penelope spit out. They all turned to you, grinning like madmen.

You shrugged, filling another glass. “I’d do it for three.”

“Damn, three million? That’s–“

“Nope,” you smirked, taking a sip.

Emily paused, head tilting in confusion. “Three … hundred thousand?”

“No.”

“Three thousand?”

You shake your head, grinning at the confused woman. “Nope.”

“Three hundred?”

“No.”

Emily’s eyes widened, jaw-dropping a little further as you denied her guesses. “Three dollars?”

“No.”

“THREE CENTS?” JJ was the one to shout, mouth dropping open when you giggled and nodded.

Penelope threw a pillow at you, and you giggled, dodging it, nearly spilling your drink in the process. “Hey! This is supposed to be a judge-free zone. I’d suck and fuck Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner for three measly cents.”

“Okay, I’d understand if you said Derek but Hotch?” Emily exclaimed, shaking her head at the thought. “He’s like twenty years older than you!”

“Exactly! That’s part of the appeal,” you replied. You were sure by tomorrow no one would remember your confession–though you were positive you wouldn’t either–and that they wouldn’t tease you too much over it. “He’s the literal definition of a DILF.”

The girls laughed at your words, JJ having to clutch onto a pillow to control herself.

“And!” you continue. “I was working out with Derek once and Hotch came in the gym with gray sweats and his dick looks humongous. It was a huge fucking bulge. I think I saw it twitching.”

Penelope slaps her hands over her ears, playfully grimacing at your words while Emily chugs the remains of her glass, absolutely baffled. You didn’t mind, sex and boys were common conversation topics during girl’s night (and sometimes when Emily would catch you making eyes at someone.

The rest of the night continued the same, though less talk about Hotch’s big dick and more on whether you all should make more jello shots. By the time you’re coming up with an answer, it’s five in the morning and all four of you are knocked out from the alcohol in your system. Even in your drunk state, you knew you’d wake up to a pounding headache.

When Derek calls in the morning, telling everyone about a new case, you’re all moody and grumpy. Hotch wanted everyone in even though he had given the day off, so no one was jumping for joy especially not in your hangover state.

Despite drinking the most, Emily drives the four of you back to the BAU, mumbling obscenities under her breath on the way. When you enter the elevator, Derek is there, causing all of you to groan at his presence. One look at you and he laughs loudly, knowing what had transpired the night before.

You wish you could shoot his foot.

In the briefing room, Hotch apologizes for having you all come in on your day off, pausing to glance at you before presenting the case. Truth be told, you hadn’t paid that much attention to it, your headache taking up your attention. Fire, serial arsonist, fifteen dead, Seattle.

“Wheels up in thirty,” Hotch announces, walking across the table. As the team filters out of the room, he calls your name. “In my office, please. I want to discuss something with you.”

Confused, you follow him to his office, pushing through your headache to think about what he could possibly want to speak to you about. You come up blank, even more confused when you see him lock the door to his office as you enter. “Did I do something wrong?”

Hotch shook his head, moving past you to his desk. He picks up something and turns around. In his hands are three pennies, and he’s holding them out to you. “Three cents.”

You’re getting deja vu on the words, and it’s not until several seconds of standing in silence and confusion that it clicks. Three cents. You blush, looking at the pennies. “I don’t understand.”

“You said you’d suck and fuck me for three cents,” he smirks at your shock, placing the coins in your hands.

“What–”

Hotch unbuckles his belt, causing you to stop mid-sentence. “You’ve got twenty-eight minutes to suck my cock. Get to work.”

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner smut

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babyleostuff · 3 months ago

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𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞

𝜗𝜚 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄: fluff, established relationship 𝜗𝜚 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: idol!hoshi x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 𝐖𝐎��𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 565

⦗💌 ⦘ it's no secret that the kwon siblings love to tease each other. but what happens when you come into play?

“stop touching my food!” soonyoung whined, as his sister quickly stole another piece of meat from his plate, giggling quietly. that had to be the third time she did that in the last five minutes, and hoshi was having none of that. “told you you shouldn’t have ordered that salad,” he muttered, looking at the last pieces of his favourite food on the nearly empty plate.

“children, could you stop fighting for once and let us eat in peace?” his father chimed in. “we can’t take you out anywhere.”

you, on the other hand, were too focused on your own food to notice the bickering that was happening right next to you. your day had been long and tiring, and this had to be your first meal of the day, so no one was really surprised that you were kind of in your own world at the moment. besides, at this point you were so used to the kwon siblings teasing each other that you stopped paying much attention to it.

“it’s not my fault he’s being a chil- hey! why does she get to steal your food?” soonyoung’s sister asked indignantly, pointing her finger at you. “why are you not yelling at her, huh?”

you quickly stopped in your tracks with your fork between yours and hoshi's plate with the last piece of his meat on it, and you could feel everyone's eyes on you without having to look up. “huh? what’s going on?” you asked, confused. sharing food in your relationship was normal, to be honest - you never fully ate whatever you ordered, you always shared it between each other, so why did you feel like you just committed a crime?

“maybe because she’s my girlfriend, you moron,” soonyoung snickered, and moved his arm from the back of your chair to lay his hand on your thigh. “eat up, baby. don’t worry about her,” he said, and pecked your temple.

his sister laughed bitterly, and set her fork down, clearly annoyed. “don’t worry about her? remember who’s the oldest here, kwon soonyoung.”

your eyes wandered between the two with amusement, as you munched on the meat you just stole from soonyoung. it must have looked really funny from the perspective of the people sitting at the nearby tables - two adults shouting insults at each other like five-year-olds, but for you (less for their parents) this was pure entertainment.

your boyfriend and his sister were the epitome of a brother- sister dynamic.

“oh my god, why are you so surprised i’m letting my literal girlfriend have my food?” he probably didn’t notice how his grip on you slightly tightened on the word “girlfriend”, but you couldn’t hide the small smile as he did that. it was cute how his body was unconsciously paying attention to you without him even knowing. “stop being a pain in the ass, and keep eating that grass or whatever that is.”

“did you just rhyme ass with gra-?”

“okay, you know what? you,” soonyoung’s mom pointed her fork at her daughter, “stop stealing his food. and you,” now she turned her head to her son, “have nothing left on that plate so leave, or keep your mouth zipped.”

“but mom, it wasn’t me who started this!”

yeah, the kwon family was a funny bunch, and you thanked your luckiest stars you could be a part of this beautiful mess.

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priniya · 4 months ago

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ᯓᡣ𐭩 PUPPY LOVER GIRL! ᡣ𐭩ᯓ

summary. upon coming to the race with your little girl, oscar and you are facing a challenging situation as your daughter gets completely enamoured with every dog she sees.

notes. oscar piastri x leclerc!wife!reader. first osc fic!!! (the obsession is getting out of hand). also pls let me know if you’d like to read something else with dad!oscar. also got inspired by @eccentricwritingbaby’s series with dad!lando!!!! didn’t proofread (idc)

dressed in an orange shirt with her dad’s number on the back, little chloe was an absolute ray of sunshine, whenever you took her to the race, which, honestly, wasn’t such a common occurrence as some people expected. your little girl loved coming to the race, mostly because it was a chance for her to meet all her favorite uncles in one place, while watching the cars drive really fast, which always made her giggle a little, especially once she started to recognize oscar’s car amongst others. despite her obvious love for the event, she was still a toddler and dragging her every other week to the airport to go to another country was something you and oscar decided to push further in time.

nevertheless, you could deny your husband the happiness of his little girl’s presence at his home race. as much as you hated the thought of such a long flight with a toddler, because the nice to melbourne flight was never a short one without any layovers, and you really tried to stick to at least some of chloe’s day schedule. but in the end it was the pure happiness in your husband’s eyes, when you spent two weeks in his home country before a race.

with said mclaren shirt with piastri written on her back, chloe was happily skipping, holding oscar’s hand as she looked around her, until a small gasp slipped her lips, freezing in her tracks, causing you to stop as well, your forehead creasing with confusion until your eyes followed hers. a puppy — simba, to be precise.

at first you thought she was scared, when her eyes widened in shock and, as you wrongfully assumed, fear, but she was quick to reveal her true feelings. a shy smile crept onto her face as she looked at oscar, who crouched to be on the same level as her. “daddy. i pet puppy, please?” her baby voice often made you and oscar’s mom jokingly call her oscar whisperer, because if you weren’t there to keep him in check, baby piastri would get every single thing she looked at. “let’s ask auntie kika first, okay?” oscar’s face lit up with a warm smile as he gently fixed his daughter’s piggytails.

back in monaco, you had a few situations, where you could learn your daughter how to behave around animals and she was picking it up pretty quickly. as horribly as it sounds, leo, your brother’s dog, was… a bit of a guinea pig, but since chloe was a literal little angel, who was afraid of making anyone sad (hence you had to put a ban on buying plushies as gifts, because she wanted every single one to sleep with her to the point where there was no more room on the bed for her), so there were never any fur or tail pulling, screaming into poor dog’s ear or anything that could cause any harm to leo and in consequence, to chloe.

a happy grin was plastered on her face, when kika and pierre walked up to them first, the girl quickly started gushing about the adorableness of her favorite papaya girl. “i pet puppy, please? ‘tie kika?” the three years old asked, holding her hands behind her back. “i gentle.” she adds, pointing at herself as if kika wasn’t completely drowning in the cuteness of the situation.

“of course, pumpkin. simba really missed you.” she chuckles softly, the two of you watching as chloe starts petting the small dog with delicacy, babbling something slightly incoherent to simba, who tried licking her fingers as she giggled. “you should get her a dog.” your friend laughed softly, nudging you with her elbow.

“we’re thinking about it, but i don’t think it’s gonna happen in near future.” you replied, a small smile tugging on your lips as chloe was completely infatuated with simba. “she’s still a lot of work, and you know how it is during the season, it’d be even more exhausting than it is now.”

few minutes later, after a quick chat with kika as you were walking down the paddock, catching up with oscar, who had to take a quick call. before you know it, your daughter squeales happily as she lets go of your hand, starting to run away, before oscar scoops her up in his arms. “hey, you can’t do that, squish.” oscar said gently. “you almost gave us a heart attack. if you wanna go somewhere, you have to tell us, okay?”

“suis désolée, daddy.” chloe replied a bit sadly as she pulled out her bottom lip. “but…” she scrunched her nose, unable to form a proper sentence in one language. “c’est uncle charles.” i’m sorry/it is.

“you still gotta tell me or mommy first.” oscar reminded her firmly, her sad pout breaking his heart a little, so… to change that, he smothered her face in small, quick kisses, making the toddler squirm in his arms, giggling cutely. “okay, c’mon, let’s say hi to uncle charles.”

as soon as baby piastri’s feet touched the ground, she ran for her life towards charles, the red pins in her hair being a small symbol of support for one of her favorite uncles. she was about to take a leap and jump into the driver’s arms, when she abruptly stopped mid-way, her mouth forming into a big ‘O’, girl’s attention has shifted from one beloved uncle to another as the youngest leclerc brother appeared in the line of her vision.

“uncle a’tty!” chloe squeaked even louder than before, happiness overflowing her adorable expression. arthur chuckled, taking a few long strides towards the three years old, before picking her up and doing a small spin, his niece erupting into a fit of giggles.

“my uncle a’tty.” she beamed, her arms wrapped around his neck, nuzzling her cheek against his. you could tell that your older brother’s heart just melted upon hearing chloe’s words, while your other older brother felt like he got stabbed with a knife.

“not a hi to your other best uncle?” charles asked in almost a desperate tone to get some attention from his favorite (and only) niece. oscar, you and alex just rolled your eyes playfully at his antics. a flicker of hope spread on his face as your daughter perked up slightly and let out a gasp.

“uncle lan?”

“oh, c’mon, squish.” your brother sighed, running a hand through his hair. a silly smile appeared on chloe’s face as she made grabby hands towards charles, who got over his exasperation pretty quickly. “play with leo, please?” she asks with big eyes and before you knew it, chloe was happily babbling to the mini dachshund.

although, the biggest fun she always had was with roscoe. mostly, because whenever she was around him, he was the chillest dog on the planet earth. she loved leo and simba, but they were still puppies with lots of energy and as much it would seem like chloe would love that, but when it came to doggies, she loved to just sit next to them and pet them endlessly.

that’s what she loved, whenever oscar and you took her to a race, that sometimes, beside being a bubbly little girl, cheering for her favorite person in the world along her second favorite person in the world, she could spend the time cheering and spending time with her favorite animals, while also being blissfully unaware of the tormenting of her mom’s brother.

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blockedbykei · 5 months ago

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𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐂𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐘 !!

— haikyuu men as your boyfriend (ft. tsukki, tobio, hinata, kuroo, osamu, oikawa, & ushijima)

— a/n: in the midst of writing another fic (spoiler alert: it's kageyama), i've decided to rest my brain and give you an insight as to how the haikyuu men will be your boyfriend lol (lets pretend i didn't just insert my boyfriend's attitude in some of these dudes bc he is as sassy as tsukki and as obsessed with vball as kageyama)

tsukishima kei

- the type of boyfriend to close his fist when you try to hold his hand

- pretends he doesn't know you when you do something embarrassing

- greets you like he's annoyed but he actually isn't, he'll give your forehead a kiss after

- he's very supportive of your clothing, wear a bra and an underwear wherever you go– he wouldn't care. but when he senses the crowd isn't safe, he would constantly remind you to put a hand on your chest when you bend, or put a hand on your knee when you sig

- he gets flustered easily when you giggle whenever you see him use his phone without glasses and look like this -.-

- everyone says he's shy when it comes to pda. and that is so true. he would hold your hand but most of the time, you wrap your hand around his fucking pinky. he would occasionally wrap an arm around your shoulders, or you'd wrap your hands around his arm. kisses in public are chastised into cheeks or temples

- whenever you fight and you go to your room to sulk alone, he walks in without knocking, scooches on the bed beside you, and spoons you. it hurts him to see you cry even if you don't see it in his face, and he'll hold you in silence until you've gathered the courage to face him and talk about it

- biggest gift giver EVER

- he would literally get you anything that you want. you send him a pic of a dress and tell him you want it? he'll buy it for you even if you don't tell him to

- remembers every date of a special occasion, like first kiss, when you said yes to being his boyfriend, all that stuff

- when you're together for a long time, you don't talk that much yet you do your hobbies together. not because nothing's new and fun anymore, but because you've gotten so used to each other that the silence between you was comforting and filled with so much love.

- when you do talk though, you'd think he wouldn't indulge in whatever topic you ensue, but he would actually talk to you like it is the hottest tea in the century

- is a small spoon when he's so needy

- because of his love for strawberry shortcake, he actually knows how to bake it. you have it every weekend. and if he isn't so busy, you'd have it everyday.

- he taught you how to bake it *swoons*

- he smells like strawberries because he uses your perfumes all the time

kageyama tobio

- he smells the ball from far away

- like when you're both on a date or just hanging out outside, the minute he hears that exact sound of a volleyball bouncing on the ground, he will snap his head towards that direction

- LIKE A DOG

- i hc that he knows how to play the piano, so he has one in his room. when you hang out, you lay on the bed and he plays whatever song that comes into his mind

- he's so awkward even if you guys have been together for a long time

- on the court he's all badass but he's actually a loser LMAO

- biggest loser ever but he's so cute though

- like when he asked you out on a date, he was bowing and yelling "PLEASE GO OUT WITH ME" like he's so desperate and pathetic it's so adorable

- he's a good bf tho even if sometimes he's too preoccupied with volleyball. it's you above everything else so if you called him in the middle of practice, best believe he's running to you in a minute

- he's such a heavy sleeper. he sleeps with his eyes open sometimes and it creeps you out to wake up in the middle of the night with him staring at you with half lidded eyes

- when you fight he sometimes cries and will ask u to hold him

- doesn't know social cues sometimes you feel like you're mothering him but in a good way

- awkward kisser too sometimes he forgets to close his eyes

- when he takes a shit, it's always hard. like his poop is hard, so you hear him grunting in the bathroom

- he smells like metal sometimes but when he's at home he smells like markers its kind of addicting

hinata shoyo

- fucking TONE DEAF

- sucks at cooking, prefers your food over anyone else's

- loves cuddling he's such a tiny clingy baby you just want to eat him up and keep him in your stomach

- when you're sad, he goes out of his way to make you smile, even if it includes him hetting hurt

- compliments you ALL the time like he's all "wow baby you're so good at this and that you're so amazing please marry me"

- sticks to your side at every social gathering and will hold your hand the whole time

- he will feel like a literal baby if you're taller than him, and he LOVES taller women i so believe that

- when a match lasts for more than 3 sets, hinata is extremely tired and will pass out the minute he steps foot into your home

- he smells really good, like his skin smells amazing

- will do skincare with u bc he's sometimes as overdramatic as you when he sees red bumps on his face

- loves to give and receive a massage

- he's so chronically online too bc he's influenced by kenma so he's always up to date with all the trends and music. but he's also incredibly stupid with technology

- his phone always overheats

- twitches randomly in his sleep and sometimes he's so messy in bed he ends up pushing you off

- loves to take baths with you and let you play with his hair hehe

- the softest boy ever too like you would both always have a kitten staying in your home until someone can foster or adopt them because there's always a lot of sick strays outside of your home

- has a sweet tooth. his favorite is cotton candy

kuroo tetsuro

- he's actually emo sometimes

- sometimes because not only with his stupid bangs, but because when you're not giving him attention, he will play loud music that will get your attention, sit on the couch, and cross his arms and pout until you look at him

- he's one of those people that will get mad when you touch his hair

- smells like soap

- he treats you like a princess though like when he brings you to his parties he will bring you EVERYWHERE

- like a bodyguard too, will bring all your stuff even if they're heavier than his gym bag

- you're the one to always patch things between him and kenma when they fight because they're like literal children

- asks for your help to get kenma to eat when he plays too much

- a whiny bitch too like he's the type of person that's actually so clean so when he encounters a room that's dirty or a bathroom he thinks is too wet or has too much grime in the tiles, he will gag and pinch his nose (same goes for tsukishima)

- has a good sense in fashion, he dresses you A LOT

- puts your bag on your shoulder and scolds you like a mom

- scared of cockroaches

- literally would climb up a wall and sob when he sees one

- and he's such a good captain too like sometimes you'd see him talking to his teammates and give them advice outside of volleyball. he's their big brother

- he's your study buddy all the time. when he's not too preoccupied with volleyball, you're both studying together

- he cherishes your accomplishments and is always present at your events

- he's close with your friends that sometimes you see him playfully hump your boy-space-friends and moan like he's riding them

- used to be kenma's discord kitten too

- one time, in his drunken state, he showed you a picture of him and kenma in maid outfits during one of kenma's gaming streams, because they were both drunk and in lock down

- whenever you see the matches or hinata, tsukki, or kageyama, kuroo feels proud and tears up at how much they've grown

- loves kids. wants to plant a baby in you.

miya osamu

- when you wake him up in the middle of the night and ask for food, he WILL cook for you

- smells like fried chicken but its alright it smells good either way

- when you go to work, he always packs your lunch

- when you fight, he knows just what to cook to cheer you up

- he loves food so much that you can't remember the last time you haven't eaten, because he ALWAYS feeds you

- when he cooks at home, he wears a pretty pink apron just for you

- listens to music when he cooks, and even when he showers too

- when you have a big social event, he'll volunteer to give a portion of food in your event or actually cater for them

- when he cooks something that you don't end up liking, he is DISTRAUGHT; will do anything for you to like it again because there's no way that he can't feed you something delicious

- sometimes, when atsumu comes over, they both play volleyball INSIDE the house and atsumu sometimes gets too much, but before you could scold him, osamu's already on his ass

- as aforementioned, always expect midnight snacks

- he's like that dude on tiktok who can make everything out of chocolate, except his is onigri. or, well, he can shape anything made out of rice

- one time, on your anniversary, you woke up to a rice shaped like a life-sized teddy bear and it was actually so cool

- you have your own spot in his shop

- and he actually let you design the blueprint for his shop because he wants it to be yours too :(

oikawa tooru

- sometimes you don't know if he's your boyfriend or an opponent at a beauty contest

- he values skincare more than you do like he's buying face masks and exfoliators and everything and you caught him one time sleeping in one of those peel off mask things

- and he cries when you take off those peel off masks

- smells like rich perfume that hurts your nose

- but oikawa takes volleyball seriously. when he lost to karasuno, you caught him sobbing in his bed when you came to check up on him, and he let you hold him until he fell asleep

- that was also when he fell in love with you lol

- before you guys dated, you two were so close that tne girls actually stopped approaching him one time because they thought you were officially his girlfriend after he held your hand during a field trip to the museum because you almost got lost

- sometimes oikawa doesn't know who he's more scared of: you or iwaizume? bc both of you are always on his ass making fun of him and scolding him

- but he cherishes you so much though like he's treating you like his certified baby girl all the time— you're getting fucking princess treatment every single day. you don't remember the feeling of a bag in your hand because he's always CARRYING it

- oikawa is proud to take up the role as your assistant

- and he's also just as sassy as you are

- he's also rich so like you're always on adventures and on dates outside. but sometimes he likes to stay at home and cook for you even if it tastes like shit

- a jealous bitch

- one time a guy asked you for directions and oikawa told him to "turn right and then you'll see a mirror that tells you you're a piece of shit"

- you scold him after that. he doesn't care

ushijima wakatoshi

- bad at social cues

- he's like an old man and you're his social media manager bc why is he texting everyone through EMAIL when sms exists already

- there was that time when he sent you a nude and it went "was thinking of you. I miss you — Ushijima Wakatoshi" AND LIKE??

- he's literally "i'm so happy for you" o_o

- and he is though its just that he's always so dazed sometimes you think he's a robot

- he's a living baby though like he's one to be honest about something that he doesn't realize what he says and you feel embarrassed for him too so you're just kind of like sweetly telling him that it's not nice to say that someone smells like cigarettes or that their breath stinks

- one time, when you and tendou surprise him, you're both caught off guard when he actually jumps– but the thing is that he accidentally hit you with his arm due to his reflexes and you swear you got a concussion after that

- he LOVES CUDDLES and he loves sniffing you and sometimes hes a sub

- smells like rich cologne that actually smells good

- takes you with him everywhere and he has to be with you all the time or else he'll cry his ass out

- decides to be matrilocal too and take your last name when you get married bc he just loves you so much

- before you guys got together, he was always so stoic and silent. and he's so silent that sometimes he suddenly appears in front of you and talks to you like he didn't just almost make you shit your pants

- he also doesnt switch out his phone so when you're in the year 2024, he still has an iphone 7 that's too big for his hand

- his bff is tendou so he's always at your home too and they're watching a bunch of animes and you're just sitting between wakatoshi's legs like you're his stuffed animal

2K notes · View notes

nctsworld · 1 year ago

Text

fever pitch

✩‌ mark x reader | pro baseball player!mark | fluff | smut | 8.4k

SUMMARY | your world is shaken up (literally) when you meet the handsome man guilty of the accidental baseball smack to your head. after a comforting meet-cute and realization that he’s the city’s ace pitcher, you two go on a date. and by the end of the night, mark thinks he’s falling for you faster than any pitch he’s thrown before.

WARNINGS | sexual content (near the end), arm riding (iykyk), breast/nipple play, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, piv sex, some drinking // this is 80% fluff-20% smut (with lots of corny writing); there's actually not too much baseball mentioned, but i did a little research on it; however, inaccuracies may be inevitable!

RATING | mature

AUTHOR'S NOTE | i am sorry this is so late </3 i hope y'all enjoy! please also check out (and maybe send in some prompts to) @nctpromptmeme!

TAGLIST | @curieouscapt @dearlyminhyung @infnteen

Under the warm, summer sun, you beam as you walk towards your close friend, Chenle, and his dog, Daegal.

Shining back, he nods in hello to you with sunglasses pressed against his face. The teacup Bichon by his side wags its tail and pants happily at the sight of you, but is easily distracted the next second due to the park’s stimulating surroundings.

Dogs running amok, families having picnics, kids chasing each other in circles, friends playing baseball—

Specifically, a group of absolutely stunning men playing, as if a model catalogue exploded onto the field across from you.

But one in particular catches your eye.

Kind eyes shine behind wire-framed glasses, paired with a wide smile. His soft hair bounces with his light jog across the area.

In his fitted white tee, he ends up in one spot and continuously throws the ball into his mitt. The game seems to be on hold as he speaks to a teammate. Absentmindedly, he rolls his arm sleeves up, revealing lean, yet defined muscles.

You silently gasp, struck by the beautiful sight, then gulp at the flexing of his biceps when he continues tossing the ball. His teammate must’ve told him a joke since the attractive figure throws his head back in joy.

And this is the exact moment you go into cardiac arrest because his laugh is the last straw of what you can handle from this man.

Suddenly, the sound of your name shakes you out of your daze and reminds you to breathe.

“Okay, which one of these guys is the one who made you do a full stop in the middle of the grass?” Chenle asks, coming up beside you.

Daegal welcomes you with loving rubs against your leg. You squat to pet her, but your eyes are still honed in on the handsome stranger. The teams seems to be switching now when someone hands the bespectacled man a bat.

Your friend tracks your line of sight and nods, impressed. “Okay, he’s cute. Your distractedness will be excused this time.”

Scoffing, you shove his leg lightly and he giggles in return. After a few more moments of gawking, Chenle wonders, “Why do I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere?”

Standing up, you reply, “Probably comes here often with his friends when you walk Daegal?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I feel like I know him from somewhere else...”

Deciding you should probably drag your attention away and not be a blatant creep, you begin to walk away backwards, heading towards the ice cream cart before the line-up becomes as long as the field.

“Want your usual?”

“Yes, please!”

However, Chenle’s brightness fades instantly, jaw falling and eyes widening. You’re about to turn around to see what caused his change of expression when you hear a piercing—

“WATCH OUT!”

With a throbbing in your head, you wake up, squinting at the blinding rays. Coming into view, the cute guy from before replaces the sun’s spot, staring down at you with concern written all over his face.

“Oh, my God,” he pants. His hands shake in front of him. “I am so, so, so, so sorry.”

You roll your eyes a bit, trying to center your vision. Groaning, you ask, “What happened?”

“I, uh...” The individual’s mouth, slightly open with gritted teeth, pulls to one side as he runs a hand through his hair, “may have batted the ball and it coincidentally went straight for your head.”

Carefully, he helps lift your upper body off the ground. He asks if you’re okay, and you nod. But a grimace comes after, causing the stranger’s frown to deepen.

“Maybe we should get you to the hospital. You might have a concussion.”

All of a sudden, he inches closer and gingerly runs his thumb over the source of the throbbing. It’s likely all in your mind, but you swear the pain lessens from his touch. You tilt your head further, angling into his palm and embracing the comforting gesture.

“I’ll obviously cover all the bills—”

You cut him off with a slow lift of your hand. “No. I’m okay, I’m okay.”

You know you’ll definitely be more than okay if you can steal some more time with his magical touch.

Continuing, you say, “And that’s too much. If anything, you can buy some ice cream for me and my friend.”

Glancing around for Chenle, you find him, crouching like the stranger, but a few feet away. With a raised corner of his mouth, you deduce he’s deliberately giving space for you to interact with Mr. Handsome Baseball Hitter.

Said handsome baseball hitter chuckles. Hearing it tugs at your chest, even harder now that you can experience it up close.

“I’ll buy you a thousand ice creams to make it up to you.” He retreats his hand and you don't hold back pouting from the fleeting contact you already miss. “But seriously, if there’s any long-term side effects, please reach out to me and I’ll pay for any expenses that come your way.”

“How would I know how to reach out to you?”

He rambles the following matter-of-factly, “Well, you can find my manager’s information online, there’s the team’s Twitter account”—he looks up cutely in thought—“and I guess I’ve been kinda active on Instagram—”

You tilt your head in confusion. What is this guy going on about?

“Okay,” you interrupt, “but who are you?”

His face flips through a few emotions in the span of seconds, but they’re unreadable. Finally landing on a grin, he says, “I think what’s more important is: do you know who you are?”

“Yeah, I’m—” And you properly introduce yourself.

“Good,” he says, “so we’re not dealing with amnesia.”

Your cheeks rise at his humour. Saying your name warmly, he adds, “Nice to meet you, I’m Mark.”

He lends out a hand for you to shake and you do so. With help from his knees, he rises upward, aiding you to stand on your feet in the process.

“Mark,” you repeat his name aloud, locking eyes with him, “the baseball batter with the strength of a thousand suns.”

At the odd line, you catch yourself, thinking how the injury must’ve loosened your filter. He laughs at the lengthy label. “You should see me pitch.”

You shake your head. “Nu-uh, nope,” you playfully say. “I’m going to be safe and stay far, far away from that sexy arm.”

Both you and Mark’s eyebrows rise at the remark.

Yep, definitely a loose filter. Maybe you really do have a concussion.

While Mark breaks out into a pleased smile, you snap your eyes shut, wanting to run away. Or disappear, if at all possible. “Strong, strong. I meant strong...”

Avoiding eye contact, you hurry and make way to a now standing Chenle. Trying to leave the embarrassment behind, you grumble, “Chenle, let’s get going.”

Your friend smirks and whispers by your side, “You sure you don’t want to dig your grave even further?” You attempt to elbow him, but he’s too quick and avoids it.

“It was nice meeting you, Mark,” you call out over your shoulder as you walk away. “Thanks for looking out for... my head?”

Cringe falls over, making you pick up your pace. Time to officially stop talking.

Chenle turns away, his body shaking as he releases a snicker into his fist.

“Again, I’m really, really sorry!” Mark apologizes in a shout. You can hear the sincerity in his voice, and also recognize his voice as the one who warned you to watch out before the incident occurred. “If you need to find me, I’ll be here over the next couple of weekends!”

When you’re far away enough from the scene of the crime, you smack Chenle in the arm. In response, Daegal chirps a bark at you. “You just had to watch me make a complete fool out of myself back there.”

He lovingly places an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into him. “I mean, Daegal’s great and all, but if anyone has any entertainment value out of the three of us here, it’s going to be you.”

You groan at his harsh, yet true, words.

“Your head good though?”

You note how the throbbing is barely there anymore. Touching the spot, you wince. At most, there’s likely just a bruise. “Yeah, it’s good.”

In a hopeful tone, Chenle sing-songs, “Think you wanna come to the park again with me next weekend?”

Reflecting on what Mark said, you ponder if he really meant it about coming to find him if anything was wrong. Even though everything would likely be fine, you’d love to see him again.

But how could you face him after the disaster of your mouth running free? You shake your head in defeat.

On Monday night, the next evening, your phone goes off right as you enter your apartment building. You drag your phone out, eyebrows furrowing at the notification that Chenle’s calling you. When was the last time he’s called you?

Actually, you’re fairly sure he’s never called you. Ever. You pick it up without hesitation.

“Hey, everything okay?”

“Find a TV playing the baseball game,” Chenle pants. “Right now.”

Out of all the things he could call you for, this is what he’s asking you to do? He’s not even into baseball; basketball is the sport he adores to death. “What?”

“Do it,” he orders. “Now!”

“Okay, okay.”

Thankful you haven’t gone up to your apartment yet, you stride over to the little in-house gym in your building near the front entrance. You haven’t used it much since you moved in, but you recall that the TVs usually play either sports or news.

And you remember right, except at the moment, the baseball game is the only event plastered on the screens. Most people in the room are fixated on the game while they’re doing their set or on their respective cardio machine.

“Okay...” you trail in uncertainty. A pitcher from your city’s team throws the ball and the batter misses. The camera cuts to the batter from the opposing team, shaking his head in disappointment. “Why must I need to watch the baseball game so ba—”

The camera’s now on Mark’s face.

The same Mark from the neighbourhood park yesterday, sans the glasses, and in proper baseball gear.

He’s on live, national television, playing baseball in front of the crowd of tens of thousands of people.

From a side angle, all eyes are on him as he tips his cap forward. His eyes mold into slits of concentration, his sharp jaw tightening after a lick of his lips. Sure, he’s different from yesterday’s care-free self, but you’d be lying if you said this serious side of him didn’t turn you on either.

Again, the camera cuts away, to the wide shot from behind him. Besides his great body (especially his gorgeous backside in those snug pants), you revel in the back of his white and dark green trimmed jersey, indicating his last name and his assigned number: Lee. 02.

He winds up for the pitch, raising his leg, and the ball is gone within a blink of an eye, landing directly into the catcher’s glove. The number 98 comes up near a rectangle on-screen, signifying the speed of his throw.

Mark wasn’t lying about his skills; he’s the pitcher with the strength of a thousand suns.

All the screens are filled with Player #02’s glimmer of a smirk, before he quickly stashes it away behind his cap. The camera lingers on him while the commentators in the background talk.

“A great put-out pitch for Lee,” one says. “His fastballs this season have been absolutely remarkable. Another great one from him.”

Cameras switch to another shot of Mark catching the ball, resetting once more for the next batter.

Another commentator supplements, “Aside from the slight hiccup earlier this season, he’s definitely on-track in making his mark on his debut in the league. A rookie ace indeed. It’s no wonder they’ve been calling him ‘The Tiger!’”

Understanding dawns upon you as to why he stated how easy it would be to contact him (and to be able to pay for any potential hospital bills). The city’s new star pitcher—how could you not know him?

“I knew he looked familiar!” Chenle pipes up from the other end, just as Mark’s nice figure takes up the screen once more. Awe and shock consume your voice, and you’re unable to create a coherent reply.

But you don’t need to, not when you have Chenle to talk your ear off about the game, but mostly Mark, for the rest of the night.

The week passes by, with you casually going through Mark’s Instagram (which, as he mentioned, he only occasionally posts on) and watching a few more of Mark’s games with Chenle in tow.

You fawn together over his plays (and his ass) and, despite not knowing much about the game, he must be having a great week from the commentators’ constant praises and the team’s overall wins.

Once Sunday finally arrives though, a wave of nervous anticipation rolls over you.

Because for you, it’s game time.

Sure, you may not have initially wanted to, but now that you know who Mark is, what is there to lose if you step up to the plate and see him again?

The scene of the park is quite similar to last week’s, except for the large presence of people staring at the men, many you recognize from the city’s team from all the games you’ve watched this week, playing baseball on the field. You wonder if you were too caught up with Mark last week because you didn’t notice how everyone else was this enraptured too.

As you stroll closer to the grassy area with Chenle and Daegal hovering behind, the players coincidentally take a breather. Some parents quickly take advantage of the break to bring their children up to receive autographs.

This is perfect timing for you too.

However, you stop in place, debating if this was a good idea to return. You’re surely going to make a fool out of yourself again (this time with no injury to blame) and Chenle, despite his promise of not interfering, will totally budge in and—

And it’s too late to backpedal, because Mark, although distracted by the little cluster of people surrounding him, lifts his head momentarily and his gaze lands directly on you.

Air seizes in your lungs when he flashes you a grin that could compete with the sun. He gives a small nod and wave. Like a star struck fangirl, you glance around to ensure he’s not gifting that nod and wave to anyone else.

But no, you’re not mistaken—his eyes are only on you.

Saying his thanks to his assumed fans, he jogs his way over to you, attired today in a fitted grey-mixed tee, ripped denim jeans, and thicker framed glasses compared to last time.

“Hey,” Mark says, still grinning beautifully. “How’s your head feeling?”

His smile is incredibly infectious. It’s a challenge not to do the same when you’re in the presence of this man. “Better. Had some bruising, but it’s all gone now.”

He nods in response, mumbling a “Good, good” under his breath. With his face turned away, he swipes some hair behind his ear and seems to be preparing himself to say something. But, you will yourself to address the elephant in the room first.

“So, why didn’t you tell me that you were in the major leagues?”

At the unexpected question, Mark darts his head up and draws it back in surprise, his lips pouting adorably. Your heart bursts.

Contrasting his cuteness, you notice the hint of stubble around his mouth. First the pout, now this. You’re captivated by it more than you should be.

He chuckles and lifts a shoulder. “Well, you didn’t ask.”

“I did,” you laugh. “I asked who you were!”

After looking up in thought for a moment, he concedes. “Okay, maybe you did.”

You two laugh in unison, and even when the moment is over, both of you stare into each other's eyes. Time’s filled with comfortable silence and equally comfortable smiles.

Mark breaks the silence, asking, “Are you still wanting to stay safe and far away from my sexy arm?”

“Oh, my God...” you groan, hating to hear the same words that left your mouth from last week.

“No,” he says through another burst of laughter, “it’s a genuine question.”

“I meant to say strong!” you argue petulantly. “I was just a little out of it from the hit, no thanks to you.”

“I know, I know,” he giggles. “I’m genuinely wondering though, cause...” Mark pauses and begins to fidget, this time rubbing the nape of his neck.

You tilt your head, intrigued. “Cause what?”

“Cause, I was, uh, wondering,” he says, eyes averting yours. “Since I owe you for your head injury—”

“You don’t owe me anything—”

“And I know it’s a long shot cause you’re absolutely gorgeous and you’re probably taken—”

This time, you draw your head back in surprise over the compliment and the grand assumption that you’re off the market.

“—but did you wanna go out with me sometime?” His hand moves through his hair before he shyly looks at you again. “Maybe?”

Before you can even process what's happening you hear a "Yes!" behind you, causing you to jolt upright. “Yes, she will absolutely go on a date with you!”

“Chenle!” you gasp, appalled but not surprised, in the direction of your close friend as he nears your side. You face Mark again and gesture in the direction of the incoming intruder. “Don’t mind him.”

As per his charming self, your friend holds out a hand. “Hi, I’m Chenle. Your newest number one fan. Great plays this week, by the way.”

“Mark.” He takes the hand to shake, giving him a small smile. “And thanks.”

Mark’s eyes wander down and notices the dog wagging its tail excitedly. His face lights up. “Aw, who’s this cute little guy?”

“Daegal,” Chenle answers. “She’s my little handful, besides this one.” he says, jerking his head in your direction. Mark's too focused on Daegal to see you slapping her owner in the arm.

Squatting down, he pets the lively dog. You follow suit and crouch down too, watching Daegal gift Mark tons of licks and enthusiastically rubs herself against his hands and arms. She’s never this delighted with strangers usually.

“What do you think, Daegal?” Mark asks, holding eye contact with her as if she could reply, then he glances over at you. “Do you think your friend should go out with me?”

Immediately, she barks happily, causing all three of you to laugh.

“Good girl,” Chenle whispers from above.

Although you pucker your lips playfully at Daegal’s betrayal, you reach out to pet her fondly along with Mark.

“But how will you guarantee my safety from your strong arm?” Your stare lingers on them. Not that he has to know, but you had to make a conscious effort to not say sexy once more.

“I promise I won’t be tossing any more of my balls in your direction,” Mark casually says.

After a pause, your eyebrows raise and his eyes widen.

“Wait, I mean—shit...” he hisses, closing his eyes and shaking his head. Your lips twitch, suppressing a laugh and finding him adorable.

“I know what you mean,” you quickly say, relieving him of his embarrassment.

He shyly glances up at you and you share a comforting look. Suddenly, someone from the field hollers his name. With a small frown, he begins to walk in reverse away from you.

“I probably should get back, but now that you know how to get in touch, message me on Instagram and we can figure out a time that works for our date?”

“Yes, definitely!”

Incredulously, you look up at Chenle for answering on your behalf.

“For sure, Mark,” you say. “Have a great game.” With the way he plays, you know he will.

Chenle and you wave your good-byes to him and watch him retreat to his friends.

“You do know that I'm the one he asked out, right?” you ask as the three of you begin to walk towards to the park's popular ice cream cart, except you're more vigilant this time.

Your friend grabs out cash, ready to pay for your order. Or at least you hope so, for all the trouble he caused.

“Yes, and that's why I will live vicariously through you!”

After messaging him over the last week (with Chenle hovering over your shoulder and backseat driving many of the messages), Thursday really couldn't come fast enough for your date with Mark.

As you step out of your apartment complex, your jaw drops and an impressed smile fills your face.

In a green bomber, black tee, and skinny jeans, Mark coolly pulls up on a red Ducati motorbike. You recall seeing a post or two on his Instagram with it, but it takes you by surprise to see it in-person.

He takes off his helmet and runs fingers through his hair, attempting to ruffle out the messiness. You're a little envious of how good he looks, even with messy hair.

Your date takes in your outfit—an off-the-shoulder floral dress that teeters the lines of being cute and sexy simultaneously—and beams.

“Wow,” he says, mouth agape. “You look gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” you say, then make an over-the-top attempt to check him out. “You don't look so bad yourself.”

After a moment of shared smiles, he tilts his head towards his mode of transportation. “Hope this isn't too daunting.”

You shake your head. “Not at all.”

As Mark helps you with your helmet, now that you're up-close, you notice he's clean-shaven, unlike the other times you've seen him, and you presume he opted for contacts for tonight.

You also can't help but relish in the proximity of his hands near your face, flashing previously to the first time you met only a couple of weeks ago.

Once he's done, you ready yourself for the ride by wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, holding onto him snugly.

He twists around with his visor open.

“Ready?”

You respond with a squeeze around his waist and a nod, so he closes his visor and you're off through the nightscape of the city.

Everything passes by in a blur, but when there are the occasional moments when he slows down or stops at the red lights, you drink in how beautiful your city is.

On the other hand, you're dying to know what Mark planned for tonight. He gave you a vague idea—dinner, a small post-dinner activity (no balls involved, Mark promised), and dessert—but that's all.

In a nicer part of the city, he stops and parks in front of a bumbling Italian restaurant.

Once inside, Mark gives his name to the greeter, stating how he has a reservation, and a sweet host immediately leads you to your table. As you walk through the restaurant, you admire its warm atmosphere with dim lights and candles spread everywhere, along with the many other couples eating their dinner.

The host stops in front of a secluded semi-circular plush booth. You shimmy in, and Mark follows. Both of you sit comfortably close near the middle of the booth.

Despite how much you have been talking through DMs over the last week, as first dates often go, conversation is awkward at first.

However, as dinner progresses and the extravagant wine (Mark insisted, “Only the best for my date, please.”) makes its way through your systems, it gets easier.

You learn more about his family, his team, and his love for reading. For him, he learns about your friends, your job vs. dreams constant conflict, and your love for music.

The easiness also goes beyond words. Underneath the table, your legs brush up against one another's. You throw your head back in laughter, and you bravely touch his forearm in response. Mark even leans in close to your body, sometimes the edge of your shoulders gently pressing into the other.

By the end of dinner, being the gentleman he is, Mark doesn't even let you glance at the check and pays it all without hesitation. Then, you're outside and on his motorbike again, off to the mysterious post-dinner activity.

When he reaches a particular end of town where there isn't much around except one place, you have an inkling where you're about to go.

Once you're there and parked, your hunch is answered correctly, but you realize something.

“Isn't the aquarium closed at this hour?”

He shrugs nonchalantly and begins to usher you forward with a hand lingering at your lower back. Whispering into your ear, he says, “I may have booked it privately for tonight.”

As you walk through, Mark and you stick to each other's side, shoulder to shoulder, and switch between revealing more about yourselves while reading and conversing about the informational signs on the aquatic creatures.

Both of you stop in front of the main showcase of the aquarium: the large tank that houses two beluga whales.

Mark leans in a bit closer to the tank, catches sight of one of them in a corner, and points it out to you. As he straightens, you feel the back of your hand brush up against his.

“You’re quite the romantic,” you state while glancing at the tank, almost as low as a whisper. Even with nobody around, there's something so serene about the aquarium that makes you want to be respectfully quiet. "Does everyone get this first-date, first-class experience from you?”

“Only the girls who get hit on the head by me,” he teases in a whisper, making you softly chuckle.

After a moment passes as you watch the tank, hoping and waiting for the beluga whales to move to where you're standing, Mark asks, “Would it be surprising to say I don’t go on dates as often as you think?”

Your eyes dart toward him, but you quickly keep your gaze fixated back on the tank. You nod. “A little.”

He hums, followed by a lengthy sigh. You can sense a shift in him. You hear how it's laced with sadness, maybe even a little regret.

“I’ve been working so hard to get to this point and of course being drafted’s been so worth it, but it also meant that I had to sacrifice some things along the way. But now that I’m finally here”—you feel his gaze now directed on you—“I definitely can rearrange my time for other things.”

Your breathing slows as you turn to face him.

Courageously, Mark intertwines his hand with yours and his free one raises, caressing the bare skin of your upper arm. The contact makes you gasp and hold your breath.

He drags himself forward, as do you, and his hand is about to cup your face...

Until the two belugas are now your front-row audience, glancing at you as if they were smiling.

You both chuckle softly and give them a wave, not wanting to lose this rare chance of seeing them this close.

And although the special moment has passed, you two finish off the marine life tour with your hand in his.

Once outside, Mark leads you somewhere nearby. After about ten minutes of walking, you're standing on a large cliff with a scenic view of the city. You've never seen the city from this height before, and all its twinkling lights and the starry sky beckon you.

An ice cream truck is also coincidentally there, and you assume Mark booked it for your date tonight.

You two grab your waffle cone orders and sit down on a wooden bench that overlooks the view.

“So,” you say, licking the cone on its side to avoid the ice cream from dripping down your hand, “does this go towards the debt of you hitting my head?”

“Of course,” he nods with his signature smile, doing the same as you and trying to avoid his sweet treat from melting. “It'll be one ice cream out of the many future thousands.”

The implication that there’ll be more than just this date hangs in the night air, almost as if it's a promise, and you really hope it'll be true.

At the very least, it feels true as you peer over your city, leaning your head onto Mark's shoulder while he casually drapes an arm around you.

Getting off the motorcycle, Mark walks you to the front door of your place and you don't even think twice about asking if he wants to come in. He says yes a little too enthusiastically, making you giggle, but it confirms that neither of you want the night to come to an end just yet.

Mark hangs his jacket as you grab beers from the fridge. Both of you make talk for some time on your couch, but the energy in the room is buzzing, especially since the almost-kiss.

The second you gravitate towards Mark, he rushes to wrap an arm around your waist and his free hand cups your face, dragging you in for the first kiss that's been itching to happen.

His lips are dangerously soft, addictive really. You swear he tastes like cherry (could be from the food earlier or maybe a lip balm flavour, you wonder).

It's a slow, yet deep, start. In the beginning, the kissing is with intent, wanting to know what each other tastes like. Naturally, the curiosity evolves into exploration, with Mark cautiously dipping his tongue into your mouth. You react with zeal, swiping your tongue against his and even experiment sucking on it. He shudders at the sensation.

Mark holds you close throughout, but your bodies move into a new position, letting you sink comfortably into your couch beneath him.

Here, passion rises. He grips your waist, whilst his body presses into yours, and he begins to trail down your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses. Although it's already off your shoulders, he drags a sleeve of your dress further down, hungry to kiss as much of your bare skin as he possibly can.

Your fingers tangle in his hair and you arch into him, embracing his clear desire against you. You're falling and falling and falling, becoming more drunk with every touch and kiss from Mark. Ever since the first day you met, you couldn't help but yearn for his touch. Now, having a taste of him like this, you're desperate to experience more.

Although you're underneath him, you decide to take hold of the kissing. When he takes a breather for an instant, you steal the chance and fervently kiss along his jaw and rugged neck. Mark moans, gripping your waist harder, and grinds into you, his hardness dying to be free.

Shockingly, he suddenly tears away, sitting up and panting. Confused, you mirror him.

“Should we stop?” he asks. “Like, I know I might be being presumptuous, but I don’t wanna ruin our potential next date if we rush too soon?”

It melts your heart that he retracted because he's concerned over your potential future. You delicately rearrange some of his loose hair stuck to his forehead. “If you want to stop, we can.”

He pouts, reminding you of him previously at the park, followed by a cute whimper.

“But I don’t want to stop...” he laugh-smiles, leaning into you, about to drive his mouth into yours again.

“Neither do I.”

And with that, Mark makes the split-second decision to continue this good thing and not look back. Once again, he's leaving love upon your shoulders, at a measured pace currently, and he carefully lowers your dress. Drooping off your shoulders, you let it drop and bunch around your stomach.

Surprise is written on his face, as you didn't wear a bra underneath your dress, but the surprise quickly dissipates into enthrallment over the beautiful sight.

He lowers himself, mouth traversing across your chest while his free hand gently massages one of your breasts. You succumb to the rising pleasure, curving into him again.

When he arrives at one tip of yours, he looks up and asks, his voice low and gravelly, “Can I...?”

You whimper-nod, already on the verge of begging him to take the next step.

It kills you that he teases first, merely pecking the surrounding area and your tip; his mouth leaving goosebumps in its wake. Your patience grows thin.

“Mark, please, just—”

Air is depleted as his tongue swipes against your nipple in a broad stroke. He then wraps his mouth around it, sucking firmly. The other hand that was kneading your other breast turns to focus on your nipple, pinching it between his index finger and thumb.

The more he sucks, the more you hear the wet puckering of his lips, the more it makes you clench tighter. Bliss begins to boil in your abdomen when he flicks his tongue and mimics the same on your other tit with the pad of his thumb.

Your breathing grows heavier, and you sense you're close, but Mark abruptly stops. You're about to speak up, believing he'd be the type to finish you off if you ask, until you realize he's kneeling on the floor in front of you and stripping off his t-shirt.

With your help, Mark eases your dress to the floor and places it safely on the coffee table. Focusing on you, his gaze is dripping of lust—so carnal, so different than his regular self.

As Mark advances to your heat, your palms graze over his defined shoulders and back. He parts your legs further with his hands wrapped around your inner thigh.

“Wearing panties?” he inquires, his finger pulling the fabric a bit to the side.

“Huh?”

“No bra, but panties?” he smirks, making you realize the joke.

You roll your eyes and relax momentarily, leaning your head back. “Are you into that? No panties underneath?”

“Could be hot,” he shrugs, tugging your underwear to your calves and tossing them off to the side.

“Maybe one date I can do th-ah—”

Without warning, he dives in, one his hands now grasping you by your lower back, and you lurch forward to get a good view of his head between your legs. You've got a grip on his shoulder, the other tugging at his hair.

His tongue laps at your folds with agility, figures out what you like or don't like. There isn't much you don't like, Mark deduces. Languid licks. Penetrating patterns. Fast flicks.

You respond eagerly to them all with harsh tugs to his hair, notably when he spreads your folds to devour you entirely. The hair pulling hurts a bit, but he doesn't mention anything; he likes it a little rough.

Despite the positive reactions, he can tell you've been at a simmer with his moves, not quite reaching close to a high. He withdraws his mouth, and, through your hazy vision, you catch sight of his honeyed lips.

But your eyes blow wide open and an acute moan dispels as your lover of the night fills you with his fingers, alongside his licking of your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

Following a few more minutes of scissoring and a few sucks to your bundle of nerves, he asks, breathing into your inner thigh, “Does this feel good, gorgeous?”

Your lip is drawn between your teeth, digging so hard from the pleasure you wonder if it'll bleed soon. “Mm-hmm.”

“Good,” he says, kissing your thigh tenderly, “'cause I'm gonna need you to remember how good tonight is so you'll keep coming back for more.”

Not gonna be a problem, you think, but all you could muster is senseless panting.

“You close?”

You can barely release a whimper out to respond, and Mark orders you to tell him when you're near.

It doesn't take long to get there. The warmth in your abdomen encapsulates your body and your hips rut upward frantically, desiring your climax to take authority.

“Mark, Mark, Mark. Fuck, I'm close, I'm—”

Immediately, he stands up, fingers still inside you and somehow impaling you further and faster while his thumb lazily strokes at your clit when possible, and his ardent kiss is the needed catalyst to take you over the brink. Simultaneously, the kiss swallows your bountiful whines.

When you finally come down from your high, you kiss him deeply and feel him through his jeans against you.

“Let's take this to the bedroom, I need to grab—”

“Should I run to the pharmacy to—?”

In tandem, you chuckle over how in sync you are, and tip your perspired foreheads against the other.

Holding his hand, you lead him to your bedroom. You turn on your bedside lamp and gesture to the tissues, so he can clean his hands. You then bound to your bedroom bathroom and fumble around to find your condom packs somewhere in a drawer.

Upon your return, you're graced with the sight of Mark sitting naked on the edge of your bed, stroking himself. You almost salivate.

God, he's bigger than you expected, and that's only one part of his magnificent body. You didn't have the opportunity before to admire his muscular abs, but you take every chance to do so now. The way his arm flexes with each stroke. And those thighs...

“Sorry,” he murmurs and shyly shrinks a bit, in contrast to his lewd action, “hope it's okay that I took my pants off already.”

He really is quite endearing. Maybe even a little perfect.

“There is absolutely nothing to apologize for, Mark.”

You place the condoms onto your bedside table, but are so absorbed with Mark's cock and existence. Entranced, it's your turn to drop to your knees.

Fingers wrap around his cock, and Mark's groans rise. You delve in your enthrallment for a bit, squeezing and stroking to your heart's content until you finally decide to ease him into your mouth.

Your tongue works wonders, tasting the underside of his length with every bob of your head. Meanwhile, his hands lazily thread through your hair and he watches attentively.

More saliva develops and drips, especially when you relax your mouth to let him hit the back of your throat. Obscene slurps accompany his delicate moans, both of which permeate the room in melodious unity.

As his threading develops into tight pulls of your hair, you detract yourself to avoid the night ending right then and there.

Since he's still sitting on the side of the bed, you sit onto his lap with a plan to abate and elongate the tension. You're back to kissing him, allowing both parties' hands to roam each other.

“I love your arms,” you mumble into his mouth as you reach for them.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “I know you love my sexy arms.” You punch him teasingly.

But an idea flickers in your head. You halt your actions.

“This might be weird to ask, but could I...” you trail off, picking at your hands, realizing maybe you shouldn't finish your question.

“Hey,” he whispers, holding your chin in his hand. “You can ask me anything, beautiful.”

You hesitate with closed eyes.

“Could I... ride your arm?”

Peeking a nervous eye open, an evidently puzzled Mark stares back at you.

“I—What? Sure?” His voice raises in octaves.

Embarrassed, you try to wave it off. “Never mind that I asked.”

“No, hey,” he says, his palm caressing the side of your face and angling it towards him. “I'm flattered and obviously, nobody has ever asked to ride my arm before. But if you want to give it a go, by all means, I'm open to it.”

“Yeah?”

Mark gives you the sweetest smile and a reassuring nod. “Yeah.”

Since you suggested it, you lead him to lay on the bed, more in the centre so there'd be enough room for you to sit. He watches you gingerly lift his hand near head-level, as if he's almost flexing to show-off or about to lay his head on his palm.

Carefully, you sit onto his left arm, facing the direction of his body. At the contact, you shudder. “Is this okay?”

He agrees, enticed by your ass near his face and the general exquisiteness of your being. “You can put more weight on it, it's okay.”

You comply, relishing in the pressure of his arm against you. After becoming more comfortable and placing most of your weight to an arm on the bed, you slowly rub yourself upon his arm.

Mark's fascinated by this foreign act, eyes watching your every move. With his free hand, he touches himself.

His favourite part about you riding his arm? The look on your face—fluttering eyes paired with your lip biting—and the fact that you find him this attractive, that using him this way can simply get you off.

“This okay still?” you breathe.

“Fuck yeah.” He squeezes himself harder. He knows the answer to the next question, but he wants to hear it from you directly. “Does it feel good for you?”

You assent with a sharp moan. Without notice, you lick your palm with the intent of reaching over to grab his cock. At first, he's confused when he notices your hand, but he happily lets you handle him.

“Oh, God,” Mark pants.

You fasten your pace on his arm, grinding greedily against him. As you do so, your arm attempts to match the pace for his desire.

“Fuck,” Mark twists his head to look at your hips, tries to focus on how wet you are amidst his own pleasure, “you really do love my arms...”

It's a sweet dream for you—no, sweeter than any dream or fantasy could ever be. This is real, this spectacular sensation spreading all over and it's all thanks to his arm. Your body winds up, tighter and tighter, and you eventually break, chasing your second orgasm of the night.

Cleaning your mess up, you wipe his arm fast, keen on what's about to happen next. You then draw him into your mouth a bit to get him up again before rolling the condom onto him.

Once the rubber is on, you tease him from above, sliding the tip of his cock against your pulsing centre.

Mark may be a gentleman, but a gentleman can only be patient for so long. He seizes his possession and you gasp as he holds you by your hip, forcing you to sit down onto him.

The feeling is heavenly, stretching you sweetly. You bounce on his cock, and the sounds from you two are louder than from before. There's a small voice inside your head, worried about a noise complaint from your neighbours, but future you could deal with that.

Right now, it's all about Mark. He plays with your breasts with every move you make, while you fondle his abs and arms. Both of you try your best to look at one another through the pleasure, but it's difficult when you're floating higher and higher.

He then clasps your lower back and skillfully rises upward with the help of his strong abs. This position provides an angle for him to do all the work to thrust into you, as well as continuing to rub your breasts and even suck on them again.

At this point, you're in absolute state of frenzy, drowning in all the stimulation. Mark's underwater, right there with you too.

He pulls away in the midst of licking your nipple, his eyes going round. Nevertheless, you lean into him, your breasts pressed into his face and your mouth hangs.

Together, you cry each other's names and swear in endless spirals and the bliss finally reaches its peak for the evening.

As Mark lays next to you in your bed, observing your peaceful sleeping state, he's obviously amazed by tonight's events, but he’s also unsure what’s in-store for either of you.

There are so many factors at play with his career, you're both essentially still strangers, the future is unknown...

And yet, despite these worries, the feeling blooming in his chest is more than a blossoming liking. It’s akin to the moment he steps up to plate, either ready to bat or pitch. Nervousness, determination, and...

It’s too early to call it, but when he’s around you, he swears it feels a lot like his love for the game.

He shakes his head, not wanting to jump into the deep end this fast. He doesn't want to ruin this good thing prematurely.

Nevertheless, he places one last kiss atop your forehead before he sleeps, praying you'll be a new constant in his life, at least in the near future.

EPILOGUE — FOUR MONTHS LATER

Today is game four of the World Series and your city has won the previous three. If they continue their streak, tonight will be the night where Mark and his teammates take home the championship.

Hours prior to the big game, the teams are having batting practice beforehand to warm-up.

With your chin perched in your palm, you watch Mark closely—of course, safely from a distance and from behind him—and nod with every ball he hits well at the mound. You're seated in the lower area of the stadium among many of the other team members' families and friends, including a gleeful Chenle.

“Stop checking out your boyfriend's ass,” he orders, nudging you with his shoulder as he tosses a piece of popcorn into his mouth.

“You stop checking out my boyfriend's ass,” you retort, nudging him back.

The two of you continue your little nudging contest until he says, “So when you guys get married—”

“Oh, my God, Chenle...”

“I'm just saying, we all know you two are going to have beautiful little baseball player babies! Anyway, as I was saying, when you guys get married, can Daegal be the ringbearer somehow? She's pretty much the reason why you guys got together in the first place.”

You shake your head, eyes still on your love. “Chenle, we'll have that conversation when and if we get there.”

“When we'll get there,” he states confidently, and you laugh, dismissing him.

Sure, it may have been a fresh relationship only four months in, but you couldn't deny that maybe the idea of marriage wiggled its way through your mind here and there. Despite your thoughts, it wasn't at the forefront; you were happy in love with Mark now, here in the present.

Player #02 hands his bat over to another player and jogs towards you. It makes you wonder why he hasn't done an advertisement with slo-mo running and wind blowing through his hair yet.

“How’d I do?” Mark asks, leaning onto the railing next to you. Chenle gives him two thumbs up with a large grin.

“Awesome," you agree. "Did you think about hitting my head with each ball?”

Mark chuckles and juts his tongue to a side of his mouth. “You’re never going to let me live that down, huh?”

“Never,” you quip, scrunching your nose. You reach out for him and hold the tips of his fingers in yours. “You nervous?”

“Yeah,” he exhales, closing his eyes. “More than usual.”

Your fingers progress forward and your thumbs rub the back of his hands lovingly. “You’ll do amazing, like always.”

“You’re too sweet, babe. But this might be the game and I might—”

You cut him off by cupping his cheek in your palms.

“And you are the Mark ‘The Tiger’ Lee”—you tenderly swipe some of his hair away from his face—“top contender for both the Rookie of the Year and CY Young Award. So no matter what happens, you will come out on top.”

In awe and in a little disbelief with how well-put that was, he stares at you with starry, doe-like eyes. He's so grateful to have met you, to have someone so supportive of him in his life.

After a few moments, he concedes. “I had a pretty great run this season, haven’t I?”

You admire how humble your boyfriend always is. It's one of his greatest traits.

“And you have me,” you add jokingly.

He tilts his head side to side. “I guess there’s that too...”

The two of you share a kiss, innocent at first, until he deepens it and you wrap your arms around his neck, which generates some of his teammates to holler and whistle. Likewise, you hear Chenle screech, "Save it for after the win!" and you swear you feel some popcorn being thrown at your back.

Finally, until you're content, you peel away and press your forehead against his.

“Go get ‘em, Tiger,” you whisper.

Mark nods, a little more confident than before. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“So much,” he punctuates it with a loving squeeze to your shoulder.

You don't think you'll see him before the game starts, so you grant him one last good luck kiss.

You wouldn't know it that night, but by the end of the season, Mark would indeed take home the Rookie of the Year and the CY Young Award, being the youngest recipient of both awards.

That evening though, your city's team works in unbelievable harmony (or maybe the opposing team is having its worst day) because the game is a perfect one. Mark shuts out the other team, not allowing them to have any runs whatsoever...

Thus, sealing his first title of being a World Series champion.

But certainly not without his beloved running out into the field to give him a congratulatory hug and kiss among the sea of people.

And at the end of that night in the confines of your bedroom (after earth-shattering celebratory sex), you would find out that Chenle was right (and later, that he was in on it) when Mark, merely in his boxers, gets on one knee with a little opened box in front of you.

He's visibly shaking, and not because he's half-naked. You've never seen him so unnerved. Your love spills the following in almost one breath:

“I know we just started dating, and we can be engaged for, like, ten years or whatever. I just know that, deep down, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I may have felt this way since our first date. I really, really, really hope you feel the same, even if just a little bit."

Mark takes a deep breath, trying to regain composure for the important question he exhales.

Tears rise in your eyes as an ocean of feelings hit you, but within that ocean, no doubts rise to the surface whatsoever.

All you think about is how you will be forever grateful for the baseball that hit your head on that life-changing day.

You immediately say yes.

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