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leclsrc · 8 months

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wanna be nearer ✴︎ mv1

genre: 18+, fuck buddies ahhhaha, smut, porn w/o plot basically...

word count: 3.6k

It seems every time you tell yourself to stop, Max comes back into your life and all sense of resolve crumbles. title from this

auds here… hiii :) req'd by SO MANY PEOPLE i can't even start compiling all the asks hahah but if u asked for this here it is! writing's been tuff for me lately but this was the one thing i could continue daily (weird) also there is a case to be made re: max's hottest pictures being like 1 pixel in resolution... hope u all like it!!!

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because... sexual tension, penetrative sex, some vague sexting/a sex tape being watched, praise/dirty talk central, size kink, unprotected sex, handjob (f receiving), max being a meanie

It’s busy today. You haven’t seen him all day.

To be fair, you weren’t necessarily looking—not at first, anyways. How many days had it been since the last time, now? The one in your hotel room? Almost two weeks, you think. The real answer’s blurry in your head, especially when you count the close calls, but this should be a record for you two at this point. Neither of you acknowledge that the only reason you’ve been so good at staying away from each other is because when you’re not roped into the same media junket, you avoid each other at all costs.

The media pen is full; everybody’s shoulder-to-shoulder because a few other networks bought their way into the space for the Singapore race. Right when your mind settles back into the focus of work, though—

“Here,” he says, his voice rough and tickling your ear. You nearly stumble forward, shocked at how his voice almost vibrates through you, a low trill that ripples top to bottom.

His hand settles at the small of your back, like his verbal confirmation wasn’t enough on its own; it’s big and his thumb rubs softly at the smooth strip of skin in-between your low skirt and your top. “Passing through.”

“Sure,” you say, dry. “Sorry.” You clear your throat and cant backwards into his touch—briefly, before you step forward and allow him to pass fully. Across you, Lissie looks up from her phone and you sense her trying to gauge why you’re so close to Max.

You blink and wait for him to disappear, wondering what you’ll tell her—how, more like. How the conversation even opens. How you’d phrase the truth, which in itself is a horribly grey area. Well, Lis, if you must know, Max and I have casual sex. A lot. It’s actually not very casual. We stopped now, but—yes, Max. That Max, yes.

“What about Max?”

Your eyes snap upward and then to your left, where you can see Max’s figure disappearing into a crowd of engineers. They return to Lissie and you feign confusion to mask panic. “What?”

“You were spacing out and then suddenly said his name.” She presses the tip of her pen onto her chin, humming. She doesn’t look at you and you thank God for it—eye contact would’ve rattled the truth out of you in seconds.

“I…” You shake your head. “I was irritated with—I’ve been irritated with him all morning. It’s. Yeah.”

“Oh,” she says, nodding, looking away for a second but not pausing. “Oh, okay. D’you wanna go over this edit again?”

—

The stale air of his hotel room, alleviated only by the vaguely fragrant linen spray they use when he’s out, is what greets Max when he arrives in the afternoon.The first thing he does—the only task he’d even thought of en route here—after the door clicks shut is pull up his Messages app and type.

Just got to hotel. He tosses his phone onto the bed while he waits, tugs his cap off and rakes reckless fingers through his hair. His new stylist’s got him onto jeans that don’t “look painted on” (you once said, verbatim), but he’d rather die than lounge in denim, so he swaps them out for just his Calvins.

His mind’s lethargic, but even his version of lethargic is high-drive for others—his brain has the silly tendency to work in absolute overdrive. He itches for a drink and orders a Scotch on the telephone. He checks his phone, which is lying facedown still, and as soon as he picks it up it chimes with your reply.

OK, nice. Did u need something?

No, just wanted to let you know. He hits send, then adds another. You’re off @ 8?

Ended early, I’m in the car. He’s in the middle of drafting a response when you send a follow-up.

I thought we agreed no contact unless business

He scoffs out a dry laugh. Despite himself, he reads the text in your voice, his brain completing the image of the bossy tone with crossed arms and a wickedly arched brow. In response he types: Can’t even update a friend nowadays? I am very tired you know.

Rules are rules, he reads. Then, Get some rest.

Yeah. Got a drink.

I said rest, not drink. Even then he can hear the exasperation in your voice.

How was work? I hurt a muscle doing training. That’s why I’m at the hotel early.

Feel better soon, you send. Had some press stuff today. Boring shit

Yeah? I missed you today.

Really?

A lot. He hums and leans backward, lets his head settle into the pillow, the smell of the linen spray consuming his nostrils. He waits for his phone to buzz, vibrate softly on the hard surface of his chest. It does, after a few minutes, after he’s let his eyes shut and let himself rest them for a bit, after the room service comes knocking and gives him the Scotch he’d requested while ago.

He’s back sitting on his bed when it vibrates. He picks it up and reads: How much?

You’re awfully easy to rile up. He smiles around the rim of his glass—he knows exactly where this is heading.

So much I think I’ll watch some videos of us.

The only caveat of casual sex as two people who essentially dislike each other is the fact that it’s all under wraps—which means if you two try to sneak off together, or are even caught in the same vicinity, people raise suspicions. And that means there are weeks where you barely get to fuck.

And that means you both grow antsy for it. He makes fun of you for being needy, when you’re tipsy and palming at the denim of his jeans or when you bend over when you know he’s looking. But the truth is he grows needy for it, too, craves you like you’re all that matters—he gets extra handsy, drops another innuendo when he knows you’re listening. There is a case to be made that he’s worse, in fact, because fans sometimes skirt around his words and wonder why he sounds so flirty when you’re the reporter in the room.

It was difficult but eventually he found a minor workaround: sometimes he films the two of you. There’s none of those propping his phone up kind of stuff, he just fishes for it in the middle of fucking you so he can store it for himself. It’s locked on his phone and he only has a few (the few has grown in number lately), but God it gives him release when he needs it and you’re not there.

I’ll call you when I’m at the lobby, comes the response. It’s always futile, the attempts to stay away from each other.

He pulls up the folder and lets his eyes skate over the thumbnails, squeezes himself through his boxers. Fuck. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to watch—the ones of you sucking him off, the ones of his fingers stretching you out. He recalls the whine in your voice in each of them, the pleads that escaped you for him to fuck you harder.

So Max, for the life of him, can’t even count how many times these videos have made him cum. But there’s one he hasn’t seen yet—the one he took the night before you two parted. You’d become extra needy on this night, preceding the season, he supposes, the separation. You already were anticipating the deprivation, starved for him more than usual. He’d have kissed you pretty, given you one orgasm after another and still you’d want more. And on this night it was you who asked him to film, you who wanted all of them on tape, so you’d both have something to tide you over until he got to fuck you again.

He pulls his cock out and strokes over it. And with his other hand, he presses his thumb on that video.

In it he’s fucking you in the dark, keeping the phone’s flashlight on your pussy as he sinks his cock into you. When he pulls back out the light reflects on the slick coating his dick, makes it glisten. It looks so wet, sounds so wet, with each thrust into you. He remembers just how it feels; he imagines that he’s back in your bed, fucking you again; that his fist is your pussy, and the spit lubricating it is the wetness that’s drooling out of you on camera.

He can see how tight you are—the way your pussy grips the shaft each time he pulls his cock out, greedy for him. Just like you.

The two of you were supposed to be quiet, too. You were at a hotel, your room beside another driver’s; you were supposed to be careful not to stir anyone. But your moans are louder than he remembers; so is the way you say, breathily, between gasps, Right there, Maxie, m’so close. Max inhales through his teeth, his cock throbbing at that—that Maxie, the cute little whimper out your mouth.

He strokes himself faster, watches the way your fingers slip into frame to rub at your clit, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier. He can see, hear—feel how wet you are, the sound of your cunt growing wetter with every thrust. He hears his own voice again, mutter out So good for me, yeah? And your babbled affirmation in response.

You cum hard, your slick getting everything wet and shiny and Max watches himself cum next. His dick’s already spurting when he pulls out and lets himself release on your lower stomach, some of it shooting onto your tits. He blinks, anchors himself back, quickens his wrist and digs his heels into the bed to keep himself from coming. Just a second longer. He knows what comes next and he needs to see it.

Like clockwork, he watches two of your fingers swipe through his cum, bringing them up to your lips. You blink up at the camera and smile. Quit it, your lips mouth, pink and cum-slick. Put it down, Maxie… fill me up again. He releases in weak spurts over his fist, a damp, flushed grunt escaping him as he does. He feels like the air’s been knocked out of him.

His phone rings and he presses it to his ear. “Hey, angel. Come on up.”

One week later

“Vodka,” you say to the bellboy when you get to the elevator. “To my hotel room. Very cold. Please. And thank you.”

The guy scurries off to fetch it for you, and five minutes and one elevator ride later, you're wrestling himself into your room, flexing your sore foot. Japan does hotel rooms well. The leather of your Manolo digs into your foot the way it does after you’ve walked the entire day and you can feel a blister forming on the back of your right heel but it doesn’t really matter, you guess, if you’re already home. Hotel-home, anyway.

You expect to find solace lounging on your bed, waiting out the hours to your morning briefing for the race and throw back a glass or two of vodka.

Instead, you find Max on your couch. He’s sipping ice-cold vodka—your ice-cold vodka.

“Hey, pretty,” he says. “Good vodka. I got staff to wire my FIFA on the TV.”

You just stare. “My TV. What,” you say, your eyes spotting the bottle of frosty vodka by his glass, “are you doing here?”

“I hadn’t seen you all day and I wanted to,” he explains simply. “Do you want food or something?”

“Food? I—nevermind,” you shrug. You’re frozen by the door, only just warmed now from the cold air that bit at your bare legs. “Max, how long have you been here?”

“Since Will Buxton started the post-FP debrief,” he huffs. He fiddles with the remote in his grip and extends it to the TV, where FIFA comes to life. “Aw, come on, angel. I know, I know. No sex and all that. I just like your company, you know?”

“Please. Go fuck yourself,” you scoff, toeing off your shoes and wiping your hands on the fabric of your skirt. He says one thing but you expect another—it’s only natural, given all the other times one of you had failed to keep a similar promise. But still you walk yourself beside him, fix the strap of your short dress, and allow him to pour you a drink.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about lately?” He asks absently. “About how you’re always having these talks with me about… about not having sex anymore, but you never even last two days.” He raises you the glass. “What is it, relapsing?”

“Fuck you,” you mutter. “It’s only because you keep trying to get me all hot and bothered.” You recall each time: in Monaco, in Madrid, in France. “Maybe if you got off my back once in a while, we’d be back to normal.”

He shrugs. “You just don’t have strong resolve.”

“Excuse me?” You scoff, irritation scratching at your throat.

“Wanna test that out? Come play.”

Your eyes flit over to the bright screen, all exhaustion cleared from your system. An animated Kylian Mbappe kicks a football in a loop. “Fine. One round and you’re out of my room.” He throws his hands up in surrender and you make a move to sit next to him. Max puts his hands out towards you then, nodding. You mistake it for some handshake, accept them, and then he’s wrangle you onto his lap facing outward. You feel your pulse at your throat as he pulls you tight against him.

“This is cheating,” you say, your voice dry.

“You got it wrong. Teaching.”

He moves his fingers atop yours, explaining what to press, what goes where, what to do for this or that. He can smell your perfume, hear your stilted breaths, and when he peeks over your shoulder he can see where your dress falls loose, showing the lace of your bra and your tits underneath them.

If he had it his way, he’d hike your dress up and have you ride him. But he’s given you a challenge.

You play a practice round and end up scoring a few goals, fingers making quick work of the buttons. Behind you, Max watches, content, answering your questions when you ask them hurriedly—how do I do this? That? Did I just score?

You score once, then twice, then three times, and before you know it you’re scoring in quick succession. The game is fun—it’s easy. If Max was trying to give you a hard time, he failed. You grow determined, competitive within seconds (something he really should’ve anticipated), and you’re scoring goals with skill that you’d confidently say rivals Max’s.

Max. You almost—almost forget he’s there, and then you sit up straighter and you’re hit with the sensation of his dick pressing into your ass. You inhale sharply and the controller clatters to the floor.

“You okay, pretty?” His hand comes up to rest on your knee, inching closer and closer with every hitch of your breath. Your hand, now free of the controller, seizes his, stopping it right at the middle of your thigh.

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah? You look stressed.” He doesn’t move. “You were so close, too, weren’t you?” The score stares you right in the face: 4-5. “Maybe you just need to get your mind off it.” It’s so bullshit, so extremely obvious, but he’s right in your ear and his hand is so near where you’ve missed its presence.

You’re usually competitive. You can usually hold your ground. But with this and him—

“Maybe,” you breathe, loosening your grip. He spreads his legs, spreading yours in the process, and brings his hand closer, running slender fingers over the lace material of your underwear until you’re squirming. It grows damper the more he touches, your mouth hanging open with stunted whimpers.

“You always come back to me, schatz, don’t you,” he says, whispers against your ear. You wrench a moan out. “Remember the first time? You interviewed me in Abu Dhabi… you teased me the whole day and begged to come thrice in my room. The time in Monaco you touched yourself to me when I was in the next room. The time we almost hooked up in Miami…” He groans, to himself more than you. “You’re a dirty girl.” He’s curling two fingers inside of you now, grazing against the sweet spot pulls the most delicious moans out of your innocent mouth.

“Every time… you go, that was the last time.” While your mind recaps the memories he’s busy spelling into your ear, Max’s fingers are curling inside of you against that sweet spot just right, and your moans are getting louder and louder.

“Fuck,” he huffs, watching your flushed face get more and more euphoric.

“Aw, pretty, look at that,” Max laughs. He’s looking at your thighs, watching the way they tense and shake as his fingers stroke your g spot. Each pump and curl into your twitching pussy feels better and better, and your dripping walls are starting to clench around his fingers.

“Wait, I—I can’t,” you pant, lolling your head onto his shoulder and involuntarily bucking your hips upward.

“Yeah you can,” he orders. “It’s so easy to get you to cum, isn’t it? Or is that just for me? The driver you hate the most?” He laughs. “Get all wet for the guy you couldn’t care less about. Say you hate me and get my dick nice and wet the next day.” You’re grinding onto his three fingers now, shameless with it.

“Are you gonna cum?” He asks.

“Oh,” you whine. “Yeah, fuck—yes.”

“Tell me what you’re gonna do,” he says wickedly. You can hear him smile.

“I’m gonna—please—I’m gonna cum,” you pant, tension coming to a halt and then bursting all at once out of you. His other arm holds your hips down against him, and you spend a minute and another twitching, your skin sticky with sweat and slick.

It’s not long before you’re whirled back to face him, your hands making quick work of his jeans. It’s a skill you’ve both mastered, the art of the quickie—in closets, hotel rooms, with sweaty, open-mouthed kisses pressed along the column of your throat, moans swallowed.

He hikes your dress up and your panties to the side, immediately bullies his cock into you—the glide is slow, but easy. You’re so fucking wet.

“Fucking big,” you gasp out. “Jesus, Jesus—fuck.” Your head drops and presses against his; he uses the opportunity to kiss you. You moan into it, feeling the stretch, your slick wetness dragging down the length of him as he thrusts up, up, further. “Been a while.”

“Feel good, though, yeah?” Your toes curl and you nod; you’re flushed all over and you need him to hurry up. You grind downward, onto him. He does, then, fucks you hard and fast, like he’s thirsted for this for way longer than he did. You’re squirming, all wet, and it tempts him to go harder. Your face is shiny with sweat, lips drawn in between your teeth.

“Slo—slow down,” you manage, babbling; he doesn’t, speeding up his thrusts until you’re moaning his name. “Max—wait—fuck, you’re so mean,” you whine, wrapping your arms around him and letting him take control.

“You’re fine,” he grunts, pulling out almost all the way. “You take my dick so well, schatz, every fucking time. Don’t you?”

“I do,” you gasp out, and he’s slamming into you gain. You cry out loudly, sniffling from the overstimulation—you’d barely recovered from your initial orgasm and already you’re hurtling into what feels like three at the same time.

“For someone who doesn’t like me,” he sneers, “you sure do moan like a slut, huh?”

His words get you more turned on than you’re willing to admit, but you shake your head.

“No?” He laughs, breathy from the effort. “Maybe I should film you now. Send it to your boss, let him see his stellar reporter’s getting Verstappen’s dick wet.”

Finally, the tension building inside of you reaches a head, and your pussy starts to twitch around his dick. He notices, grunts sharply and leans forward, shuddering as he releases into you. Your moans are choked and tapering into whimpers as you release slick all over him, and you attempt to catch your breath, collapsing onto his still-clothed, now-sticky chest. You scratch at the dri-fit material and inhale him, the smell of his cologne, his sweat. You bite at his earlobe, laugh when he flinches.

“That,” you say into his skin, “was the last time.” It’s both seriously and as a joke, playing off of what he’d remarked earlier.

“Jesus, princess. I’m still inside you.”

You giggle and drum lightly along the plane of his chest. In a few minutes he’ll pick you up to shower, but now you’re content to inhale him in. Quietly you wonder why you just can’t get enough of him—if you were in better senses, you’d have realized he was thinking the same thing about you.

#f1 #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader

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mattyriddlesbitch · 2 months

Note

Can I get some orgasm denial w Enzo please? Or even just Enzo being a munch :)

Enzo is a huge much and I stand by that. Thank you so much for requesting him. <3

Listen

Lorenzo Berkshire x F!Reader

Warnings: Oral(Female receiving) fingering, edging, orgasm denial, cussing.

18+ Minors DNI!

Enzo's favorite place in the world is between your thighs. Having a bad day? Being in between your thighs would fix it. Got into a dumb argument with his friends and needs to cool down? Your thighs make good earmuffs. Having a good day and wants to end it on a high note? Your legs spread for him is the best way.

Today was a bad day. Horrid. He was running late in the morning, Mattheo was in a pissed off mood and taking it out on his friends, he completely forgot about an assignment. So he came straight to your dorm once he knew you'd be there.

Now, here you were, panties thrown somewhere in your room with your skirt bunched up as you sat on your desk chair, Enzo kneeling between your thighs. Your hands were in his hair and he was just licking and sucking at your poor sweet cunt like he hadn't eaten in years.

“Enzo.” You whined his name. The sight was so hot.

“Don't you dare fucking cum.” He said harshly. He was definitely more aggressive than usual. Not that you were complaining.

“Please, I'm so close.” You pleaded, throwing your head back.

“No. If you cum, I won't touch you for a week.” He said and you knew he wouldn't follow through with it, but you still tried to obey.

You cried out and focused on trying not to cum, but it was so hard with the way he was sucking at your clit. Despite his harsh tone and how aggressively he was eating you out, his hands were rubbing soothingly on your thighs and hips.

“Shit, I'm gonna cum, Enzo, please.” You said, legs shaking around his head as you moaned.

He pulled back slightly. “No, I told you not to. Can't you be a good girl?”

You whined from the loss of his mouth and and looked back at him. “I can be a good girl. Please.” You begged, your hips moving subconsciously to try to find some friction.

“You gotta listen then, sunshine.” He said sweetly.

“I can. I can listen.” You nodded.

“You better. Or I have to punish you. Do you want that?” He asked, moving his hand up to gently massage your breasts.

“No, I don't want that.” You pouted, whimpering slightly from his touch.

“Good, I don't wanna punish you either, angel. Just relax and look pretty for me, yeah?” He said and connected his mouth with your pussy again.

You moaned, watching him as he licked at your pussy again. He pushed two fingers in you and looked up at you. He thought you were the hottest thing in the world. You looked perfect as you moaned and cried out his name as he ate you out.

“Enzo, please, please, please.” You begged as you threw your head back, legs trying to close on his head from how close you were again.

“No, hold it.” He was back to his cold tone, lapping at your pussy as his fingers were hitting inside you perfectly. He used his free hand to wrap around one thigh to keep your legs spread for him.

“I can't, please.” You cried out, legs starting to shake.

“No.” He gave your thigh a harsh slap and it made you jolt, yelping from the pain. “Be good.” He rubbed over the slap sweetly in contrast as he pulled back again. You tried using the moment to catch your breath and say something again, but he was back on you again after just a moment, waiting for the orgasm to dwindle down before trying to build it right back up.

“Fuck, Enzo. So good.” You moaned above him, looking back down at him.

He was watching you again, wanting to see every small reaction to his touch. He felt so fucking good, the way his tongue was playing with your clit and the way his fingers were thrusting in and out of you. Your orgasm was building quickly again.

“Enzo, please.”

“Not yet.” He said, not letting up at all.

Your eyes rolled back as your head fell back against the chair. Desperate, broken moans escaped your lips as you held tightly to his hair. It was all you could do to obey. You desperately needed to cum, you were right on that edge.

“Please.” You sobbed. “I can't. I need-Enzo, please.”

“You're so greedy. Cum then. Wanna see you cum on my face.” He said before sucking on your clit.

You came hard, trembling, crying, screaming his name. It was so fucking hot to Enzo. He helped you ride out your orgasm, soothing you with his free hand.

You were trying to catch your breath as your body went limp in the chair. He gently removed his finger as he soothed you and praised you.

#slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys smut #lorenzo berkshire x reader smut #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire x you

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kamiversee · 3 months

Text

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 10 || The Hallway Incident

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language & fluff.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 3.2k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——THE GENTLE SOUND OF YOUR heel tapping against the ground due to the constant bobbing of your leg as your anxiety builds up inside can be heard beneath the sounds of Nanami and Toji engaging in conversation.

You've been waiting for about six minutes now, having watched every second of the nearby clock tick, and your nerves are all bundled up. In the time that they've been talking, you've mentally rehearsed a plan for yourself.

You're going to ask Toji for private lessons.

And no, not in a naughty kind of way. At least, not yet. But for the purpose of one, having an excuse to attend class with Gojo every Monday to really dedicate yourself to the lie you've given and two, to have one-on-one moments with Toji.

Is any of this going to work? Probably not.

The worst case scenario is that this all goes to shit and Toji rejects any advance you make at him, resulting in Gojo posting those videos of you. Great.

You draw your hand up to your face and begin to chew on your thumbnail as you wait, simply watching the two talk for a few more minutes until Nanami finally leaves.

When he does, you watch him walk away almost in a trance. He's got one hell of a back profile. Similar to Toji, the dress shirt that Nanami had did little to nothing to conceal the toned body that lay underneath.

You never used to undress people with your eyes like this before but then again, you never used to see this many attractive people at once.

The little trance you were in is broken when Toji suddenly snaps his fingers in front of your face, causing you to jump and turn your head to him. You hadn't even realized that he sat back down at his desk.

"S-Sorry Mr. Fushiguro." You apologize as you make eye contact with the man.

"You're fine," He says, his expression void of any real reaction to the way he saw you gawking at his student. "Now," Toji leans back in his chair, a slight creak heard as he does so, "Where were we?"

"Uhh..." You awkwardly straighten up in your seat, "I was telling you about the project I had for my sociology class."

"Right." He nods, "Well, I don't mind you coming to my class for a few weeks for this project of yours, just don't be a disruption."

"I won't sir." You hum.

The gentleness in your tone makes the older man shift in his seat a little. "Good. Anything else?" Toji questions, tipping his head to the side.

"W-Well, I was wondering if I could stay after the lecture as well."

"For?"

"Y'know, like, a more..." You look down at your lap. The eye contact was growing overwhelming. "In-depth lesson?"

The older man falls quiet for a second. Then, startling you, he chuckles at how fidgety and nervous you seem to be about your request. "You're not in any of my classes and yet you want a lesson from me? A private one at that?" He emphasizes.

You swallow hard and look back up at him, "Yes sir."

Toji folds his arms, the large muscles in his arms unintentionally bulging against the fabric of his shirt. "What is there for me to teach ya' privately that you wouldn't learn during the lectures?" He asks.

"Well..." Think, think, think, think, think.... "Students aren't the only people I have to study for this project. As a professor, you'd be a great example to use for how topics, such as economics, affect people in education." You manage.

He scoffs lightly, "So, basically, you want to study me after class?"

You wince a little at his words, "Study isn't really the word I'd use for it. Think of it more like an interview."

"An interview?"

You cross one of your legs over the other, "Yes sir."

He takes a long pause, simply staring at you in thought. Once he comes to a decision, Toji agrees with a nod and a shrug of his broad shoulders. "Alright. Every Monday then, I'll expect to see you during and after class. When's this little project of yours due?"

"Six weeks from now." That should be enough time for you to... seduce him, right?

Toji's eyebrows raise slightly, "Six weeks? Damn, must be some project."

"It's my final project, sir." You clarify.

He clicks his tongue and you watch the corner of his lips raise into a little smirk, "So your final grade will be riding on me then?"

Well technically you riding on him is more of the goal here but, there's no need for you to say that aloud.

You smile, "Yup."

"M'kay, cya next week then," Toji says dismissively. You give him a nod and both of you stand at the same time. He walks you over to his door and adds a simple, "I look forward to workin' with ya', kid."

His last word makes you halt. Slowly, you turn only your head back to him with a graceful smile on your face, "With all due respect, sir, I'm a grown woman. Please don't call me kid." You request.

With your head angled back to him, you notice that he's rather close to you. One of his hands was placed on his classroom door and the other was tucked into the pocket of his pants. His closeness causes whatever, obviously cheap, but rather pleasant-smelling cologne to run through your nose.

Toji tilts his head as he looks down at you, "Yes ma'am. My bad, it's a bit of a habit of mine."

The change in the way he addressed you has your heart feeling a little weird. It has to be that deep voice of his, the damn thing is intoxicating.

"You should get rid of it," You blurt out, referring to that habit of his.

An amused smirk spreads across his face. You didn't know it but, he found this one interaction with you slightly attractive. "I'll work on it." Toji hums casually.

You give him an approving nod and then turn away. His eyes follow you as you enter the mildly busy hallway and after you disappear from his sight, he sighs heavily.

You definitely made a decent first impression on him.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

As you rush down the hallway, you're lost in your head thinking about how you're going to pull this off for the next few weeks.

Subtly flirting and throwing small hints at him sound like your best options. Being straight up would be dangerous. You'll have to flirt and pretend like you aren't aware you're flirting-- 'innocently' making your way to what lies beneath his clothes.

You hope it works too. And while you're on that thought, you have to ask Gojo how difficult he thinks this will be for you. God, you hate that man. You don't want to talk to him about anything but you're forced to anyway-

You run right into someone in the hallway.

A phone drops and the binders and books you held make contact with the floor. "Shit," You curse, instantly crouching down to pick up the fallen items.

The person you ran into crouches down too, "Sorry," They apologize, even though you both ran into each other.

You go for the phone and motion the device toward the person, raising your head from the fallen items and meeting a new pair of eyes.

Holy fucking shit. It's another one. Another guy from the list.

And this one is... Well, if not for you picking Geto, this guy would've been your next choice.

Deep sangria-colored irises peer into yours, the shade veering more into the brown spectrum, and oddly attractive eyebags circle the male's eyes. There's a dark black tattoo running across the bridge of his nose and his hair is styled up in two messy ponytails.

You think your heart skipped a beat as you made eye contact with him. Hell, maybe it skipped a few beats-- maybe it stopped working for a second.

His face alone was tantalizing. The man was attractive in a way that made you unable to pry your eyes off him.

You think you flinch when he leans closer to you and tilts his head in concern, "You alright?"

Dazed by his caring voice and mesmerizing eyes, you nod your head. "Y-Yeah." You sigh.

You watch as the man looks down at your lips for a second, then right back up to your eyes as if he didn't mean to glance. The two of you grab all of the fallen items and stand up in sync. You extend your hand out, holding his phone and trying to give it back to him.

"Sorry for running into you," He apologizes again while taking his phone from you.

In return, he hands one of the items of yours he picked up back to you. "You're fine, I should've been watching where I was going."

He shrugs it off and his eyes drop down to the floor for a second before he speaks, "Me too. Also, I like your shoes."

You mimic his motion and look down at your feet, almost as if you'd forgotten what you were wearing. "Thank you," You reply as you look back up to the man.

If there's one thing they all have in common aside from being hot, it's the fact that they're all taller than you. It's something you mentally note as this man stands in front of you.

You smile and make a gesture to his face, "Nice tatt." You compliment simply.

His lips curve into a slight smirk, "Thanks, I did it myself."

"Really?" Your brows raise in surprise.

"Yup."

"Fuck, that's cool. Did it hurt?" You ask curiously, unintentionally leaning forward a little to get a closer look.

He shrugs, "Nah, not really."

You examine it for a second, only growing more and more impressed. "It's like, a perfectly straight line. Are you an art major by any chance?"

"Graphic design." He clarifies, "What about you?"

You shrug casually, "Psycology."

The male's head tilts to the side as he peers down at you, you can tell he's impressed. "Shit, psycology?" His head cocks back a little and he smirks, "That's hot."

"Hot?" You blindly repeat, chuckling at him. "It's just the study of behavior and mind, nothing special honestly."

He scoffs, "I'm pretty sure it's much deeper than that."

"It is but, it's more confusing than hot." You argue.

Your conversation with him is oddly seamless. He's now grinning at you, "The fact that it's confusing and you're still choosing to study it makes it hot."

"So, are you calling me or the major itself hot?" You ask teasingly.

He shamelessly looks you up and down and licks his lips before saying, "Both." He hums.

Your face grows a little warm. "Thanks, you too."

"You think I'm hot?"

"No, I think your major's hot." You utter sarcastically.

He laughs, "Yeah? You think graphic design is hot?"

"Mhm." You hum, "I mean, yeah, you're attractive but when you add on the fact that you're an artist? That multiplies it."

"Really?"

"Yup."

"On that note, you wanna see some of my work?" The man offers surprisingly.

"Yes please." You say with excitement in your voice.

Talking with this man in the middle of the hallway was by far the most refreshing thing you'd experienced within the last six days.

He chuckles and his thumb swipes through his phone for a second. When he finds whatever it is he wants to show you, he motions for you to come closer to him and you do.

Standing by his side and leaning over toward his phone, you see beautiful images of dark-colored designs that are nearly impossible to put into one word.

His art looks like... himself? It's almost as though he put his whole aesthetic onto a piece of paper. You catch shades of black, purple, and red ink swirled together in multiple different designs.

"Holy shit," You breathe out.

He chuckles at your reaction, "I've had a bit of art block recently but uh..."

As he trails off, you turn your head to look at him and notice that your faces are closer than you expected. Neither of you move but the eye contact held is almost intimate.

His voice drops lower and his gaze is unwavering, "I think I just found my new muse."

Heat rushes to your face as you grow flustered. By no means was he referring to you, right?

"R-Really?" You stammer.

His gaze dips lower, focusing on the curve of your lips, "Yeah," He hums.

The two of you lose yourselves in each other's presence for a moment. You nearly forgot about... well, everything for a second.

The male was enamored by you. You were just some random girl he ran into and yet he couldn't take his eyes off you. As for you, well, it's simple to say that you were just as infatuated. His face was so close, so flawless, and yet so mysterious.

You clear your throat and both of you snap out of the little trance you'd been in. Then, the two of you turn away from each other, clearly equally flustered by the closeness and lack of words.

"U-Uhm, your art is b-beautiful by the way." You stutter, physically cringing at the way you're tripping over your words.

You haven't been this nervous in a long time. This is worse than Toji, worse than Geto, and even worse than Gojo. Your heart is a pounding mess and you feel like a high school girl with a crush all over again.

"Th-Thanks," The man beside you chokes out.

A sense of comfort washes over you as you realize you're not the only one whose nerves are bundled up.

He suddenly clears his throat, "Well uh, I should uhm, probably get going."

You turn to look at him, "Right. Sorry for running into you again."

"No, don't apologize. I'm actually glad you did." He says, avoiding looking you in the eyes but smiling a little bit.

"Think I can get your name before you go?" You question shyly.

His gaze meets your face, still looking everywhere except for your eyes. "Choso. Kamo Choso, but you can just call me Choso." He tells you.

You stick a hand out for him to shake and give him your name in return. As his hand meets yours, you notice the slight claminess of his palms-- he was sweating... how cute.

Again, he clears his throat. "Since we're exchanging names, can I get your number too? I doubt we'll run into each other much since we have two entirely different majors..." Choso requests.

You're quick to nod and it's in a matter of seconds that the two of you exchange contact information with one another.

"It was nice meeting you, Choso." You voice out softly.

He nods his head, "Yeah, it was nice meeting you too."

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Alright, so today was an absolute rollercoaster.

From that morning being all lovey-dovey with Gojo, to hating him all over again, to meeting his stupidly sexy professor, to catching a glimpse of the stoic blond, and all the way to having an airy almost whimsical conversation with Choso.

What a day.

Seriously, what a day. Talking to Choso was so different. It didn't feel like you were talking to a target, it didn't feel forced or uncomfortable. Talking to Choso was the most pleasant thing ever.

As you made your way off-campus, your head was in the clouds-- filled with thoughts of the mysteriously artistic man you just had a conversation with. He was different, you could feel it.

You find yourself smiling at the little still moment the two of you had, how innocent it was, and how comfortable you felt. There's a sudden thump in your heart that makes your thoughts freeze.

Shit, the one thing you're not supposed to be doing. The one unspoken rule you'd set for yourself. You're breaking it already. You hardly know the man and you're breaking the single stipulation you'd put on yourself.

No feelings.

It's a simple rule. A needed rule. You can't go around sleeping with different men and fall for one at the same time. That'll never work out.

Imagine the look of disgust on their face when they find out they were just a name you needed to cross off. Hell no, the last thing you want to do is fuck with anyone's heartstrings-- including your own.

But...

Choso was so-

No. Stop it. You think to yourself. You nearly thought the same things about Gojo and look where that got you? In no way can you come out of this situation happy with any of the men involved.

This is just a one-and-done situation. No special cases.

Your goal is to seduce not swoon.

That's all your purpose consists of-- being a little whore for Gojo Satoru. As annoying as it is to come to terms with, that's exactly what your job is here. Fuck people, get paid. Nothing more, and nothing less.

No one becomes the exception. Under no circumstances do you allow anyone to fall for you; nor do you fall for anyone.

The smiles, the laughs, the ticklish feeling you get in your chest-- it all needs to be fake. Those special and cherishable feelings need to forever remain fake.

The second any of those emotions transfer into something real, everything will go to shit.

No relationships.

No feelings.

No romance.

Just sex.

You need to lock those words into your brain for the remainder of this list. Relationships would ruin things, feelings complicate people, romance will never work out, and sex is the only thing you need to focus on achieving.

You're not Gojo so you don't have plans on manipulating people. You simply want to be freed of the grasp he has on you and the only way to do that is by completing this stupid list.

As you made your way home, you thought long and hard about who you would go for first based on the three new people you met.

Toji would be a slow process since you gave yourself six weeks to figure him out. Nanami is a walking question mark since you have literally nothing to go on. And Choso seems all too sweet for you to think about seducing him just yet.

Based on that, you decide that Toji will be your biggest focus for the time being-- unless you spontaneously run into one of the remaining two unidentified people on the list.

With that being the most unlikely thing to happen given how lucky you got today, you end up organizing the list in a journal of yours at home. You'll put them into your own order and check them off as you go.

Yeah, you'll get through this.

...Right?

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ✔︎

TOJI FUSHIGURO ☐

KAMO CHOSO ☐

NANAMI KENTO ☐

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

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spideysbruh · 6 months

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Thank You GQ

a/n- the lil ~ means a passage of time

liked by florencepugh, y/n and 892,339 others

tchalamet GQ.

view all 371,728 comments

tstan your shoots are always the best

GQ let's do it again some time mr. chalamet

y/n oh my

timmylaurie he's so cute omg

liked by tchalamet and 170,383 others

y/n what's everyone asking for from santa?

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timmytimstan omg t liked

yourfriend what are you getting me for christmas 🤭

y/n literally no clue ❤️

tchalamet a vinyl record would be nice

y/n liked

y/n 🤔

timmytimstan omg t commented !

timmysgf who is she ??

tchalamet oh wow.

kylesballs not him simping for a random insta model publicly LMAOO

timotheeandall y/n is NOT an instagram model omggg 💀

@y/n tweeted: need. need so bad

@sinusandsocks replied- me too girl 💀💀

@lauriesarmpit replied- no way the first tweet I see of hers is ab timmy 😭😭💀💀

@tsgf replied- how do you know it's about him?

@ynsleftear replied- trust me, she's been like this for a while 💀💀 she stays shooting her shot!!

liked by tchalamet, yourfriend, rachelzegler and 243,827

y/n honeymoon fades

view all 32,817 comments

sabrinacarpenter caption. i love you.

y/n liked

ynstan BEAUTIFUL GIRL

tchalamet need.

y/n liked

chalametgirl BYEEEE LMAOOOOO

tchalamet oh my.

rachelzegler absolutely gorgeous. when are we hanging out 🥺🥺

y/n im free next week <3 let me dm you w my schedule LMAOO we need to have a sleepover again I got so much to tell you

rachelzegler omg this is happening ill see you next week love

~~~

tchalamet just posted a story!

@y/n tweeted: the average person was never meant to have this much lore.

@realchalamet liked and retweeted

@ynsblanket replied- oh god what happened girl

@ynandtimschild replied- you're literally dating timothee chalamet it's okay 😩😩🙏🏼

@y/n replied- exactly!!! life is crazy.

@realchalamet liked

@timoatreides replied- wait what💀💀

@realchalamet tweeted: life IS crazy

@paulswhore replied- BROOOO !?!?!!!

@ynsgf replied- HELPP!?!?!!! at 2am is crazy

~~~

liked by tchalamet, dylanminnette, haileesteinfeld and 1,937,727 others liked

y/n two years. you've dealt with every part of me and you're still here with me. I love you more than anything my silly boy. I'll always remember the GQ issue that finally gave me the courage to dm you 💀💀

view all 123,732 comments

tchalamet ohhhh THATS why its framed in our place 🤔🤔

y/n but also cause im so proud of you 😍things can have two meanings 🫶

paulsdune TWO YEARS ?!?!!! it took yall forever to make it official huh

y/n you're telling me...

tchalamet thank god for GQ cause i was too scared to dm you myself 💀💀

y/n liked

lauriesyn NO WAYYYY HAPPY ANNIVERSARY YALLL

kyleshair literally my parents omg

timosbirthmark tbh it's good they waited a while to actually date, people be so quick to jump into relationships LMAOO

rachelzegler our double dates are some of my favorite memories

y/n same we gotta do it again

mariastory timothee and josh being friends omg

liked by y/n, zendaya, madisonbeer and 3,827,727

tchalamet thank you once again GQ. i think i'm much more mature this time around. and thank you for getting me the love of my life with the 2020 issue, I am eternally grateful.

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y/n oh my 😍

tchalamet liked

laurieslaurence YOU ATEEEE the lil part about y/n and how much she's helped shape you 🥺🥺🫶🫶

atreideskyle i ❤️ my boyfriend

zendaya OKAYYYYY

willyswonka he seems like such a good boyfriend to y/n

florencepugh so proud of you!!!

charliestimo the comparison to the 2020 and this one 🥺🥺 he's already grown so much 😭💔💔

ayoedebiri 🫶🫶

liked by y/n, dovecameron, addisonraee and 4,282,727

tchalamet my love deserves a post of its own. when we're apart i count down the minutes until we can be together again. you make me the best possible version of myself and i thank you for it. you are the most beautiful person inside and out, and I'm so lucky to get to not only know you, but love you as well. i love you happy two years my pretty girl.

view all 233,287 comments

timosatreid "MY PRETTY GIRL" GOD WHEN 😭😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺

y/n you just had to outdo my caption huh.

tchalamet liked

addisonraee yall are too cute pls stop

sabsyn THE HAND PLACEMENT IN THE SECOND PIC WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE. HAND. PLACEMENT.

ynschals imagine how many pics they have of each other on their phones that we'll never see... 😖

yourfriend no other guy could make her as happy as you, timmy!

tchalamet and y/n liked

y/n idk if you know this but i love you

#timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet imagine #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet #timothee imagine #timothee x reader #timothee fanfic #timothee chalamet social media au #timothee chalamet smut #timothee chalamet au #timothee chalamet smau #timothee chalamet instagram au

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myfictionaldreams · 2 months

Text

Talk To Me // James Potter x Fem!Reader

Part 1 // Part 2

Summary: It had been three weeks since you'd spoken to James. Three long weeks since emotions were subtly revealed, you weren't sure how long you could go without seeing him. However, will a Quidditch accident draw you both back together or push each other apart?

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, ANGST (!), depression, arguing, injury/blood, ex-friends w/benefits to lovers, kinda love triangle, mutual pining, kissing, confrontation, fingering, praise kink, happy ending

Words: 5.3k

Tagslist: @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo, @kezibear, @liv2post, @imdoingbetternow, @omwtohellttyl, @sheblogs, @keemsweems, @mora-miserium, @marmie-noir

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

During your second year at Hogwarts, James had accidentally dyed your hair bright green, and you'd given him the silent treatment for a shocking 6 hours before he found you in the corridor, his hair a matching shade of green. The two of you laughed about it until tears were streaming down your cheeks. The had been the longest the two of you had ever gone without talking or being mad at the other.

Until now.

Three weeks ago, you and James had a potentially friendship-ending argument. It all started weeks before; James had finally secured a date with his long-term crush, Lily, but, in his haste to make sure he was perfect for the date, he admitted to you that he'd never kissed another person. Being the good friend that you were, you offered to teach him.

This was your first mistake. Blurring the lines between friendship and physical relief broke down the barriers around your heart, and as the lessons continued, you found James on your mind, filling your stomach with butterflies. It all came to an end, however, after you both admitted feeling jealous of the other but couldn't take that step to secure any form of relationship other than friendship due to Lily, so after an emotional quickie in the spare room at the Hog's Head, you decided to walk away altogether.

Three weeks didn't seem like much time at all in the grand scheme of things. But to you, it felt like a lifetime. A lifetime of faking smiles to your other friends, ignoring questioning stares and conversations about why you and James weren't talking to one another. Pretending that everything was okay was slowly and intricately destroying your soul. You were slowly running out of shadows and quiet corners to cry when the others weren't looking.

It had been so long now that there was even a silent routine between you and James. He'd rush to breakfast in the morning, eat and leave before you slowly trudged your way there. During classes, you'd be at the front and he at the back, running away before you had even collected your bag to leave. Then there was the downtime, usually the Shrieking Shack or the Common Room, where you'd relax and unwind, but now the library had a special place in your heart or your bed.

Many whispers had spread about why the two of you had suddenly stopped being the inseparable force you once were. Even teachers had questioned you as to why you were distancing yourself from Potter. Every time it was discussed, a shrug of your shoulders and an 'it's none of your business later', the conversations were dropped.

Every second of every day, you would plaster a fake smile onto your face and pretend everything was okay, but in reality, you were cursing yourself for ever letting your emotions dictate your friendship. You missed James so much that it felt like you'd lost your shadow, like something you had become so used to being at your side that the moment it wasn't there anymore, you never realised how lonely life could be.

Then, of course, there was Lily, who tried her utmost to support you and vigorously questioned James at every opportunity about why he had hurt you. Even after insisting that it wasn't the case (it was, but she didn't need to know the specifics), she still couldn't comprehend why the two of you had suddenly stopped talking.

You were worried that it was beginning to affect the relationship that had been building between James and Lily, which also was why the breakdown between you and James had occurred. However, Lily insisted that everything was fine between the two of them.

You'd never been in love before; you were pretty damn sure that what you were feeling was close to it because you were just about ready to give it all up and apologise to James just to have him back in your life. Even if that meant having to watch his relationship with Lily blossom into more, you just wanted him back in your life. However, you still need to work up the courage to do this.

They say that time is the greatest healer, but right now, time is kicking your ass and making everything feel worse. Precisely as the weekends rolled around. Where did you go? Where could you hide?

"Why don't you come along to the match later?" Lily urged from where she had perched at the edge of her bed opposite yours.

You were facing her from where you lay on your bed, spooning your pillow and ignoring the rest of the world outside of the dormitory doors. "Who's playing?" you asked in a thickly croaky voice from its lack of use.

Lily paused for a second, knowing the answer probably wasn't what you wanted to hear as she confirmed, "Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff".

"No thanks", you say tiredly, closing your eyes and deciding that you could sleep all weekend instead.

Lily's bed creaked as she moved to sit beside you instead, pulling the pillow from your grip and gently pushing against your shoulder so you shuffled backwards, making room for her to lie beside you.

"Well, if you aren't coming because of a certain Marauder, maybe it's better that he'll be playing. At least you won't have to talk to him or stand in the crowd with him during the match and after, he'll be celebrating with the others anyway".

Thinking it over, you already knew from the determination in Lily's forest green eyes that she wasn't going to back down from this conversation until you had opted to go, so with a lazy shrug of your shoulders, you agreed to join, "But only if I can skip the after party".

Lily sighs, already springing out of bed, "Thank Merlin for that. I was worried I'd have to jinx you to get you out of this bed. No offence, love, but moping around and feeling sorry for yourself doesn't suit you. I want my bad bitch friend back, the one who doesn't care what others think as long as she's having a good time. That's all that matters".

Her encouraging words bring a smile to your face as you sit up with a bit more enthusiasm. "You're right; we can still have fun, can't we?"

"That's the spirit!" Lily cheers as she begins to layer her body for the crisp, cool weather outside. However, as she wrapped the red scarf around her neck, she paused and looked at you sceptically. "I don't support. Can I convince you to talk to me about what's going on? I've hardly seen James in weeks, so I can't get any information from him. I've even tried to get the information from Sirius, but he's just as confused as everyone else. It seems out of nowhere for you both to be giving each other the silent treatment."

Attempting to keep your face neutral at hearing that Lily and James' potential relationship was being affected was more complicated than you'd thought. Guilt panged in your stomach, filling it with an unnatural heaviness as you realised that a speck of hope had filled your heart at this news. However, it all diminished as you realised that if anything had happened between you and James, it would have done so much by now. He had made no effort to talk to you, and the same depressive cycle was still rotating around.

Lily sighs, having watched the emotions spiral across your face. Reaching over to warmly hold your hand, she insisted, "Listen, you don't have to tell me what's happened, but I need you to know that whatever it is, you know I'm always going to be your friend, and I don't want you to feel alone either so whenever you're ready. I'm here for you".

Even though her words were comforting, they only made you feel worse and reminded you of just how bad of a friend you were. There was no way you could tell her you'd been seeing James, even if it had been disguised as teaching and that he and Lily weren't officially dating yet; it still felt like a betrayal.

Squeezing her hand back and not being able to find the words to say, Lily filled the silence with her sarcastic words. "Right anyway, up you get and go and shower. You're starting to smell as bad as the boys, and we'll head to the pitch".

You tearfully laugh at her words and clamber out of bed.

With your arm linked with hers, it was refreshing to be outside for once, but the nerves remained regardless, even if you had plastered a fake smile onto your face and began to cheer with the rest of the crowd without a care in the world. It was simple to watch Quidditch whilst trying not to look for James; you'd resorted to starting at the goals on either end and waiting for the points to add up.

About half an hour into the game, a boisterous shout came from Frank Longbottom behind you as he bellowed, "Come on, Potter, what's taking you so long!"

Only then did you notice he'd flown so close to the crowd that you looked to your right and saw James hovering on his broom only a few meters away, his brows furrowed in concentration as he searched from the golden snitch.

Without missing a beat, he lifted his middle finger and pointed it toward Frank, a smile spreading across his handsome face that soon faltered as he followed the direction of the finger, and his eyes solemnly turned to you, noticing your presence for the first time.

The hand lowered as you both seemed to be caught in a breathless staring content, not wanting to look after. It had been the closest you'd been to one another in three weeks. The want, the need, the ache of missing him returned full force, and even though you wanted to look away, you couldn't. It was like an elastic band was tied between the two of you, not allowing the other to tug or stretch away.

It was only as a blur of darkness appeared over James' shoulder that a different sort of urgency overcame you as you screamed his name in warning. "JAMES!" however, there was no time to warn him adequately as the impending bludger collided with the side of his head, knocking him unconscious, and his body slipped from the broom, hitting the sides of the stands before tumbling to the ground.

You moved on instinct, pushing past the bodies surrounding you at the moment of collision, not even waiting to see if his fall was a cushion or caring that students couldn't go onto the pitch mid-game. You frantically sprinted down the stairs, ignoring the pain flaring in your lungs and calves from the sudden exhaustive exercise and then you were on the grass.

It felt as if your heart was going to stop beating when you saw James lying unmoving on the pitch; you weren't even aware that you were screaming and pleading his name as you ran to his side just as Sirius ungracefully landed on James' opposite side.

The two of you rolled him onto his face, and as you released an almighty sob, Sirius mumbled, "Holy Shit", as he pried the smashed glasses from his face, carefully trying to make sure no further glass had embedded into his face.

There was so much red on his head and face, but also down his arm and side where he'd collided with the stand, ripping the clothes and scraping the skin beneath.

Without thinking, you pressed your hand to the side of his face, ignoring the warm wetness that flowed from his injuries, staining your fingers as you pleaded, "James, please wake up. Can you hear me?"

"There's so much blood", Sirius whispered in shock as he began to try and wave his wand over the injuries to try and stem the bleeding.

"James, I really need you to wake up! Please, it's me, I'm here – I'm sorry," it was your turn to whisper as you leaned over his body, your face now over his, the tears dripping down your cheeks falling down onto his, causing little rivering paths in the blood on his face.

Thankfully, hope came in the sign of a deep groan from the man beneath you, his eyelids fluttering as they fought to open. "James, can you hear me? Please open your eyes, I need to know you're okay".

James opened his eyes, the hazel having never appeared so bright before even if they were unfocused, and he blinked in confusion. "You're here?" he asked, trying to raise his injured arm, but all it did was twitch awkwardly beside Sirius, so you quickly grabbed the other hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

"Yes, I'm here, it's me. Try not to talk; I need you to save your energy and stay awake. Everything will be okay".

"You're really here? With me?" James asked, still staring but not really seeing anything.

"Yes, I'm here. So is Sirius; you scared us, you know that, right?" you tried to joke, but it just came out sounding desperate.

"I missed you", he drawled tiredly, his words becoming slurred as his eyes dropped, so you gently patted his wet cheek.

"Hey, please don't fall asleep; you've had a big knock to your head. I need you to stay awake. I need you to listen when I say I've missed you too".

James smiles as his eyes look like they're searching over your face, but you know it is probably a blur without his glasses. "Love…" then his eyes closed and didn't open again.

You and Sirius stayed in silence for a breath. You weren't sure of his following words, whether it was just a pet name or something more, but as Lily and the other Gryffindors, as well as the teachers, finally arrived to help, you tried not to overthink it as you took plenty of steps back to allow him the help he needed.

However, a firm hand around your upper arm had you pulled away out of earshot of the others as Sirius furiously looked down at you, "What the fuck happened between you two?"

You couldn't think straight, only answering him with a shake of your head as you stared at the redness beginning to dry on your hands. Sirius took a deep breath, trying to calm his manner before speaking again. "Whatever it is, it shouldn't have taken him to look like this for you to talk to him or him to talk to you. I hate seeing my friends like this; the world is dark, and you can't let these emotions get in the way. Whatever the emotions are. I need you both to be okay".

James was carried to the hospital wing just as Hufflepuff caught the snitch and won the game. You'd remained a step behind the rest of the group of teammates and friends, feeling numb and broken as everyone kept talking about the brutal fall James had experienced. Once in the hospital wing, everyone was escorted away by Madam Ppomfrey, who declared that she couldn't tend to her patient with the entirety of Gryffindor watching over her shoulder, which gave you ample opportunity to go to the dormitory and sit in the shower until your fingers had pruned from the amount of time spent in the water.

Gryffindor Tower was remarkably quiet that evening, most deciding to have an early night in. You, on the other hand, were wide awake, stuck between whether you should visit him or not, but in the end, as the sun had set, you realised there was no way you could sleep without making sure he was okay first.

Playing with the edges of your sleeve as you approached his bed, you halted as you heard a soft feminine voice, then noticed that Lily was next to James, holding his hand, and you cursed yourself. Of course, she would be here; why wouldn't she?

Lily had heard your footsteps and turned her head, standing when she saw you'd joined before looking down at James, who hadn't blinked once since he saw you enter the room; he now had glasses on and bandages crossed over his right arm and bare chest. A bandage also wrapped around his head, half covering his hair, but the scratches and cuts still peaked from beneath and travelled down his cheek from where his glasses had cut his skin.

As you stepped further into the room, you could sense something in the atmosphere but couldn't quite name the feeling. Lily glanced at James, who finally looked away from you to her. They shared a smile that had you turning away.

"I hope you're feeling better soon, Potter. And don't forget about next week", she reminded lightheartedly, and your chest tightened. "I'll leave you two to talk".

Finally looking away from the crack on the floor, you saw that Lily was giving you a bright smile, her eyes twinkling as she stopped next to you, her fingers gripping onto yours as she leaned close to whisper, "We have lots to talk about, but you're still my best, don't forget that".

Confused by her words, you watched her leave before turning back to James. There had never been a moment you had ever felt awkward whilst in the presence of James, but as you stood there playing with the edges of your sleeves, you were at a complete loss for words.

"Madam Pomfrey said there was nothing she could do; I'm stuck like this" James finally broke the tension with an awkward shrug of his shoulders, his eyes wide and full of disdain.

Your breath caught in your throat, "Nothing she could do? Wha-What for? Is it your head? Your arm?" you ask whilst taking an unsteady step towards him, your heart pounding so loudly in your chest you were sure he could hear.

James shook his head, a glimpse of a smile beginning to turn at the corner of his lips, "She said there was nothing she could do for my handsomeness, that I was going to be stuck with this pretty face for the rest of my life. She's just as gutted as I am", he finished with a shit-eating grin, showing his straight teeth.

Breathing heavily out of your nose, you drop your head to hide your smile, "You're such an idiot", you say lightheartedly.

"I know", he responded in a more serious tone. "A big fucking stupid idiot who misses his best friend".

"I've missed you too", you say, rushing to his side, sitting close to his bandaged arm, taking his hand delicately and relaxing as his thumb brushed against the back of your knuckles.

"I'm sorry", you both speak simultaneously and then lightly chuckle. You admire your joined hands, hating the way that your heart feels that it looks so right to be holding his hand. When had you become so infatuated with him?

"This entire situation had become such a mess", you admitted, still not looking him in the eyes.

"I know," he agreed solemnly, still squeezing your hand. Finally, your eyes flick up to his, and you release a slow breath, seeing his eyes are focused and entirely on you, the caramel flecks in his eyes shining brighter than ever. James tried to sit up further in the bed, attempting to hide a wince that you noticed immediately before collapsing back into the pillow and looking at you sadly. "Tell me how to fix things between us", he implored. "I can't keep going without you there every day".

"I don't know", you admit whilst watching his glasses slip down the bridge of his nose and without thinking, you reach forward to push them back to normal; however, your fingers linger in the air before settling on cupping his cheek, brushing against the side that wasn't injured.

James sighed, closing his eyes to lean into the touch, but then his following words had dread stiffening your spine, the sensation of ice being poured over you as he admitted, "I told Lily everything".

You're standing and moving away before you can even gasp the word, "What?!"

James looked at you in alarm, trying to sit up again and failing, swearing up his breath as he grabbed his side. Seeing him in pain, you rush back to his side, gently push him back into the bed and tell him to stop moving. Only when he finally stopped breathing hard and had drank the green potion that was on his bedside table for pain relief did you confirm with him, "When you say you told her, how much exactly?"

"Everything. I had to. It was eating me up and getting between us; I couldn't let it keep going on; I thought I was going insane with guilt".

"What did she say?" you asked tentatively.

"Honestly? She suspected something was going on, but not quite what was actually happening. Well, to be truthful, she found it funny that you'd been teaching me all these sex things to potentially use on her and couldn't comprehend that the popular James Potter hadn't kissed anyone before, let alone anything else" You rolled your eyes at his words but remained silent, waiting to hear more. "I've been pushing her away since that first date, especially over the last three weeks. This gave her something to be suspicious of, I'd been after her for years, and the moment there was a chance, I could hardly talk to her. I think my mind and heart was preoccupied".

The sincerity in his eyes had you leaning closer, taking his hand once more. "What happens now, then? Does she hate us?"

"No, I don't think so. Evans is such a bloody good friend. She congratulated me on admitting how I felt for you before slapping me on my good arm for being an idiot and letting this silent treatment go on for so long".

You couldn't help but giggle at your friend's fiery reaction, but then his words dawned on you. "And how do you feel?"

His gaze softened as his eyes flicked from your eyes to your lips. "I need to tell you something", he finally admitted, and your first thoughts were the one word he mumbled whilst half unconscious on the quidditch pitch.

"Don't say something you're going to regret, Potter".

"I'd never regret it. I've never done anything like this before, but I know I can't ever not have you in my life. These last three weeks have been, frankly, fucking shit. I haven't been able to sleep, I can't concentrate in class or during quidditch practice, I feel like I'm missing a part of me".

"That's how I've felt too", you admitted hopefully, leaning closer. James released a slow breath, hearing that you felt similar to how he had.

"I want you to be mine", he desperately asked before closing his eyes and shaking his head like he hadn't meant to say that but couldn't help himself. "It's just that it's probably too soon, I mean, obviously, with Lily, people might get confused- I don't want- I mean, I do want, I-".

You'd never before seen James stumble over his words. There was one thing that he was and that was confident and somewhat arrogant so to see him struggling to form the correct sentence had the anxiety melting away and your face leaning forwards until your lips softly pressed together. His mumbling stopped instantly as he relaxed into the kiss, taking a second to simply close his eyes and be in the moment.

The restraint he held smashed into a thousand pieces, however, as his hand came up to cradle your cheek, pulling you even closer, his lips pressing with more urgency and needy as you whimpered into the caress. Your hands raised to wrap around his neck, being careful of his bandages as you moved.

As you both kissed, you couldn't help but think back to all those weeks ago when James was experiencing his first kiss with you, and now you were the one clinging to him, breathless and dizzy with need.

His soft lips moved and opened, deepening the kiss further but then pulled back an inch so that he could finally say against your mouth, "I'm so fucking in love with you". You pressed your body and lips firmly against his, burning with emotion and desire as you desperately pleaded the words back to him in between kisses.

You needed him, body, mind and soul. You were gripping onto the patch of unbandaged hair like it was your lifeline, just as he was doing to your face with his left hand. Then it all came crashing down as a stern cough came from the bottom of the bed.

You both pulled away from one another so swiftly that you tripped over your own feet and nearly caused his bedside table to crash over. Still, you quickly rectified your mistake just as James covered his lap with the pillow behind his head, hiding the apparent bulge that had hardened as Madam Pomfrey looked between the two of you with her lips pursed.

"Well, it seems you're recovering quite well, doesn't it, Mr Potter?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

James coughed awkwardly and then grinned cheekily, shrugging his good shoulder, "Well, I didn't injure my mouth now, did I?"

You glared at his cocky reaction, mortified that you'd just been caught making out by a teacher. "Sorry, Madam Pomfrey, I was just leaving", you answered whilst still staring daggers at James, who frowned at your words.

"No, you weren't. Actually, she's here to help me apply that salve you gave me for the cuts" he nodded toward the clear tub next to his bed. "I'm sure there are plenty of other things you'd rather be doing than rubbing my back, Madam Pomfrey".

You could have screamed at James' blatant sass. The Matron looked towards the ceiling of the hospital wing and sighed, "I don't get paid enough to deal with your sass, Mr Potter. You both have 15 minutes and then the hospital wing is closed to all visitors. Do I make myself understood?" When you both nodded eagerly, she finally began to move away. She stopped, looking pointedly at James, who looked at her with big, innocent eyes. "Might I remind you, Mr Potter, that any extracurricular activities will tear open the wounds I have just closed, and I have an excellent hearing".

Your face burned with embarrassment, but James took it in his stride, pretending to look innocent, "I don't know what you mean, Madam Pomfrey? I'm sure I won't tear any stitches with hand holding".

The Matron rolled her eyes before walking off to her office at the door at the end of the room. Once alone again, you couldn't help but curse at James, who laughed with his head tipped back, removing the pillow to see the bulge still evidently there. "James, you bloody idiot! That was mortifying!"

Sitting on the side of the bed, you held his uninjured hand in one of yours and then reached for the clear tub of salve in the other. "So how do I apply this? Does it need to go everywhere?" you asked curiously.

However, James didn't answer and removed his hand from yours. Instead, he moved it to the waistband of your jeans, especially to the button, and quickly undid it with a simple flick of his fingers. You gripped said fingers tightly, nearly dropping the tub and looking at him sharply. "James, what the fuck are you doing? Did you not just hear her? Your wounds could open again, and might I remind you that she's just at the end of the fucking hall!" you whispered at the end of the sentence harshly as he continued to look at you nonchalantly.

"You'll just have to be quiet then," he shrugged, trying to return his fingers to the zipper of your jeans, but you halted his movements again.

"James, no! I'm not having you become more injured!" you insisted.

James rolled his eyes. "This hand isn't injured, is it? All you need to do is sit on my fingers; it's not exertive, right?"

Heat flushed through your entire body at his words as you bit your lip, subtly attempting to cross your legs to squeeze your thighs together. "We- We still can't!"

"Why not?" he asked, and you couldn't quite answer as all you could think about was his fingers inside of you. When you didn't say anything, he continued with his voice lowered, "I've been craving to touch your body for three long weeks; I thought I'd lost you forever. I've finally got you back, and I know we have lots to talk about, but right now, all I can think about is your beautiful cunt and my fingers getting to touch it. My team lost their first game of Quidditch since I joined, I'm sore and fragile, are you really going to say no right now?" he blinked rapidly in a pleading manner with his best puppy dog eyes impression.

You giggled under your breath before releasing a slow breath, looking him deeply in the eyes before moving a little closer, uncrossing your legs and letting go of his hand.

"Thank Merlin", he pleaded thankfully as his finger moved back to the waistband of your jeans. "Remember to stay nice and quiet for me, Sweetheart, okay? Once I'm out of here, we can talk properly, but in the meantime, I just need to touch you".

You couldn't talk anyway as your thoughts were wholly overtaken with lust as you felt and watched his fingers touch the bare skin of your tummy as he pushed his left hand further beneath your jeans and then into your underwear. Your breath hitched as you unconsciously spread your legs whilst holding onto his forearm as the tips of his fingers grazed your labia.

Teasing beneath, he sucked in his own breath before muttering, "Already so wet for me. Has she missed me?"

"Yes", you whispered, looking up into his face, noticing a natural blush now coloured his cheeks as he licked his lips. Biting the inside of your cheek to remain quiet, your hips rocked forward as his middle finger finally stroked your clit, causing it to throb and your pussy to clench with need. Circling it slowly, he spread your juices over the sensitive nub before lowering two fingers to ease into your eagerly awaiting hole.

Your eyebrows furrowed from the subtle stretch of taking his two fingers past the first and second knuckle before stopping and allowing your body to accustom to the sensation. "I've missed this", he admitted as he began to rock his fingers in and out, hardly even blinking with how he watched your emotions flicker across your face.

You were concentrating so hard on trying not to make a noise that you hadn't realised how firmly you were holding onto James' forearm, but he never complained.

In and out, the fingers moved, slowly inching deeper until nearly the entire digits were consumed in your cunt, and the heel of his palm was pressed firmly against your swollen clit. "There she is", James praised as he began to curl his fingers whilst rubbing his palm against your bundle of nerves, causing your eyes to widen and mouth to drop open in silent pleasure.

Quickly covering your mouth with your hand, you tried to cover your soft gasps as you continued to look into James' hungry eyes. The only noise that could be heard was the squelch of your wetness and the rapid breathing from James.

A noise at the end of the hall had you both pausing as a candle flicked from movement outside of the hospital wing. The door was right there; anyone could walk in, including Madam Pomfrey and yet James didn't stop; he was a feral man in need of feeling you cum; he wasn't even sure he'd stop if you were both caught.

Your body was beginning to tremble with how good his hand felt, and you wished you could repay the favour, even glancing over to the noticeably throbbing bulge beneath the thing sheet, but then he shook his head.

"Not tonight. Let me just feel you. Come on, Sweetheart, I know you're holding back. I want you to cum on my fingers; you can do it", he pleaded, his digits continuing to curl right into that beautiful spot that had the tightness in your abdomen coiling until you were on the very edge of bliss.

Your thighs clamped around his hand as you held your breath, dropping your hand to grip the blanket across his lap, leaning your forehead against his as you sweetly moaned, "James", ever so quietly under your breath.

"Fuck yes, Sweetheart, that's a good girl, taking my fingers so well", James praised as you came all over his fingers, soaking his hand and your panties further. He didn't stop the press of his palm or the curl of his fingers until you were sated, half slumped against his chest, completely relaxed.

Carefully he pulled his hand from your underwear and began to greedily suck the juices that soaked his hand. Watching him obscenely roll his eyes back and moan at the taste, you couldn't deny the intense arousal that pulsed in your cunt once more, but instead o acting on these emotions, you hastily had to button up your jeans as Madam Pomfrey's office door opened.

Standing on unsteady legs, you tried to ignore the MAtron as she approached. Leaning forward, you kissed James quickly on the lips. "I'll come and visit you in the morning", you say in a rush, not being able to look Madam Pomfrey in the eye as you pass her, trying to walk as normally as possible.

"I'll be counting down the seconds until you're here", James shouted after you with a deep chuckle. Just as you exited the hospital wing, you could hear James ask the healer, "Looks like I do need your help after all with the salve. Unfortunately, we both got so lost in each other's eyes we simply forgot".

You tried not to release the laugh until, further down the corridor yo,u heard the heavy sigh of Pomfrey in response.

Things were sure to be stranger for a while, and now alone once more, you realised that you needed to go and speak to Lily about everything. At least you had James back and hoped that what he had said was true and that Lily would understand.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter fic #james potter smut #hp smut #hp fic #hp #harry potter #mine*

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saintslewis · 13 days

Text

❝ 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄 ❞

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!oc; Nadia

summary: a lil workplace visit can’t be that bad, right?

warnings: cussing, links to pinterest. a lil short, sorry!

saint’s team radio 🎀: hiiiii there. thank you for all the love on virgo’s groove, i truly love each and everyone of you! hope you enjoy this, babies!

pls like, comment and reblog!

dividers from @cafekitsune

fc: @/unclewaffles_ on ig!

renaissance: the series masterlist 🪩

Lewis had missed his wife, terribly so.

Often being reminded by most, that his companion was not next to him as much as she was the last two weeks. He never tired talking about her in any sense and to anyone who would listen. By now, she would’ve spoken about her students or a joke that her friends used to tell as she attended university many years ago. Possibly a song she was thinking about or a candy she tried from the hotel in Miami.

He had missed the bright smile she often displayed at anyone who was open to receiving it or whenever she spoke of her new friends. Lewis had realised she had quite the loud laugh, contradicting her quiet voice, and how she would laugh at his jokes, a quiet wheeze at first then a boisterous laugh following right after. He had also missed how she would slip into one of her many home languages whenever she spoke and how she would derail the conversation to explain every little thing in that specific language.

Surprisingly so, he liked seeing that she was spending his money, even after trying to convince her that it was totally okay. Lewis also liked how she would send little updates on her day just as he did as well, talking about how she’s constantly stopped in the streets for pictures and how shocked she always was that people recognised her.

He also liked the rambles she had whenever they got the chance to facetime. Making her blush at his words was always a sight to see and how she would try do it back but her giggles held her back.

Lewis missed Nadia. A lot.

Sitting in his hotel room in Barcelona, he stared at the suitcases that were waiting right by the door. He checked his carry on once again to check that the little gifts he got her were okay. The specific hoodie he was wearing still had faint scents of her perfume, making Lewis feel giddy to get home. Months ago, he would’ve always said that the world is his home but ever since he met Nadia, he could feel his smile get larger as his thoughts go on.

Managing to get a podium, just as he promised her, he remembered her excitement and astonishment when he explained how many he actually had. She went on to tell him that she’ll make celebratory baked goods for whenever he gets back. Lewis knew that he was distracted when he attended a dinner with some friends after the race, his phone couldn’t be separated from his hands. All that was on his mind was seeing her.

“I know we initially removed the second question from the assignment but the board brought it forward that it needs to be done.” As soon as Nadia finished her sentence, her year 12 students groaned loudly.

“It didn’t make sense to me either but because you’re my kiddies, I’ll research when I get home and just get a memo so you don’t have to worry. Even if you all write the same thing, it’s okay.” She assured, walking to her desk after handing out the ‘new’ assignment papers.

“Uh, Ms Brown. You said this can be typed out, right?” A hand that was raised asked. Before the teacher could answer, someone interjected.

“It’s Mrs Hamilton, Tash.” That made a few students laugh. Nadia would never get used to hearing herself being referred to that. Every time she even woke up in that house, it was unbelievable.

With a little chuckle, she put her pen down. “Thank you, Kim. But yes, it needs to be typed out and don’t forget to make a cover, everyone.” Picking up her pen once again, Nadia went on to work on the question that troubled the whole class.

Silence fell and all that was heard was faint music coming from some kid’s headphones as they worked on their assignment or their homework, Nadia never had an issue if they needed to complete other tasks from their other classes.

Glancing at the clock on her desk, there were at least two hours of school left but luckily, she only had a few classes that day and was able to go home early. An empty large mansion but it was home. Craving the vanilla macrons she made yesterday, Nadia was more than excited to get home.

It was also the day that she expected her husband back home from Spain. Mondays usually went slower than the usual but she pushed her excitement to the back of her head as she continued to work. There was still some time left with her favourite class so she relaxed in her seat.

Nadia’s phone kept buzzing with text messages as she typed away on her laptop, sending an apologetic look to the students who’s heads whipped at the distracting sounds. Picking it up, all she saw was messages from Maggie, the school office admin, sending through messages that basically implied that she was shaking, she was excited and constantly repeated ‘girllllll’.

The class was now interested in whatever was going on because Nadia’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. There was nothing she was aware of unless the principal wanted to talk to her about something but that was even more confusing.

A knock echoed through the classroom and she gave the student closest to the door a signal to open it and he froze at the door, seemingly starstruck. All the kids then leaned outside their desks to see and they began screaming in excitement at whoever was at the door. The figure walked in the door and Nadia’s stomach dropped at the sight.

“Oh my days, Lewis Hamilton is in my class!”

After eventually calming down the class who were still shocked and buzzing at the fact that Lewis was there, he offered to take pictures with everyone and even brought them doughnuts that he had left outside the class in hopes to surprise them. He locked eyes with his wife and made his way to her, signalling to the kids that he’d be right back to take pictures.

Nadia threw her arms around his waist as soon as Lewis was close enough, he kissed through her wig then her forehead, completely aware that the kids were watching and recording. “I don’t wanna get fired, Lew.” Nadia spoke, facing away from her students.

“I had a word with the principal, you’re good.” He reassured, patting her back. Winking at her as he went back to the excited kids, she felt the butterflies in her stomach. She also realised how spontaneous he was because he really just showed up to her work like he forgot who he was.

Getting home was a bit of a challenge, the rest of the school caught wind of his appearance and that was a mission in itself. To Nadia’s luck, school was still in session and she could get home early with her husband by her side. The deal was that Lewis would come speak to the kids one day in exchange for his spontaneity.

Climbing out of the Range Rover that she drove herself to school in, Lewis held her hand to the front door where his suitcases were waiting to be let in. It felt all so domestic like they’ve done this a thousand times before, taking off their shoes right by the door and she immediately slipped into her slides. The home smelt like a mixture of her sweet perfume, cookies and the ocean scented incense she bought for the house.

“Welcome home!” Nads turned around after dropping all her things on the kitchen island to throw her arms around his neck for the physical touch they had been waiting for. They melted into the hug, faces digging into each other’s necks, engulfing each other with their warmth. The two stood there for what seemed like an eternity before letting go eventually. “That felt good, wow.” Lewis said, his eyes taking in every part of her face.

He had missed her so much.

“Right? It felt like a month apart. How are you feeling? Spain was something else.” Nadia smiled, still unable to look at him in his eyes. Before he could answer, he knew he couldn’t just outright say anything to her yet. Lewis couldn’t tell her that he’s falling for her so quickly, so much so that he wanted to shout it out to the world. He did that already, the world just doesn’t know that all of this isn’t real.

“I’ve been alright, just wanted to come back home and relax. Getting that podium though,” Lewis breathed out. “Please, you made it look flawless.” Nadia interrupted, with a ‘duh’ expression on her face. He couldn’t help but genuinely smile at that.

She walked further into the kitchen and he followed after her like a puppy, waiting for her to do anything. “I made you vegan vanilla macrons for your podium and my non-vegan ones are in a different lunch box.” Nadia tapped the lunch box labelled ‘vegan’ with her freshly done nails then placed it on the kitchen counter.

“Ohh shit, I forgot I got you something else as well!”

Nadia ran up towards the stairs, spewing out the words as Lewis watched her with a smile on his face, leaning his head on his hand. Deciding to make himself comfortable in the living room, he waited for her.

Quick steps of her sandals echoing throughout the main floor, she came through with a medium sized box in hand, a proud smile on her face as she plopped herself right next to him on the couch. “So. You know how I said that I love sourcing for archives in fashion or the latest pieces that are just tough to find?” Nadia started.

“Yeah…..” Lewis responded with a slight lift of his eyebrow.

“This is a gift I want to give to you since you did so good in Spain but I got it like days before the podium so I had to pray that you did good.” She added, unable to contain her smile as she handed the box to him. Sitting down quite close to each other, she watched as Lewis carefully ripped the gift wrap.

He was smiling before he fully opened his gift. “I can feel you just jumping’ in excitement.” Lewis said, his natural accent and voice coming into light. The same voice he used to when he felt right at home.

Eventually putting all the gift wrap to the side, he faced the box in curiosity, opening it and being prepared to see anything. “You’re joking.” Lewis said in shock, staring at Nadia who’s smile was brighter than the sun itself. “It was tough finding these but I do hope you like them, Lew.” She responded.

“These were made-“ “By Virgil, yep. I knew that you guys had a good friendship so when I came across these, they reminded me of you guys.” She informed and giggled at Lewis constantly looking back and forth at the shoes. The Nike x Louis Vuitton air force one was apart of a collection released in honour of Virgil Abloh, Lewis’ friend and Nadia’s inspiration in the fashion world.

Lewis couldn’t contain himself and stood up abruptly, pulling Nadia with him to wrap his arms around her and give her an even warmer hug. A bit shocked, Nadia quickly recovered and returned the same energy towards him. “Thank you, Nads, truly. Not just for the shoes but just…everything.”

“Anytime, pookie bear.” Nadia moved her head to look directly into his eyes, focusing on every crevice of her face. Looking down at her neck, he caught a glimpse of shining silver jewellery sitting pretty on her neck, only used to seeing gold pieces only.

“Is that 44 on your necklace?” He pointed it out, looking back and forth between her face and her jewellery. “Oh! Yeah, I wanted it to match my ring. The world is getting familiar with this face, might as well add to it.” Nadia said with a smug smile and Lewis had to collect himself but he realised he was right home.

Adding a little chuckle, he lowered his large hands from the middle of her back to her ass then her thighs, getting a yell out of her when she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Wanna get the neighbour familiar with you?” Lewis smirked, licking his lips at the same time.

“Let’s get right to it, Sir.” She responded, giggling as he started rushing to the bedroom, holding onto her tightly as they went up the stairs.

lewishamilton

lewishamilton a week filled with love and joy. canada, here we come ~

tagged: @/nadiahamilton

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nadiahamilton i look too good 🤭

lewishamilton you always do

nadiahamilton omg STAWWP 🥹

user dawg this is so unfair, you don’t get it

fencer my best friends 🥹

liked by lewishamilton

user mother and father

kehlani sleep with one eye open, mister

lewishamilton it’s sir

kehlani i’m still taking your wife, leprechaun 🫵🏽

user seeing you two in Canada!!

user this man is too gone, bridgerton level simp

user well duh, if you were with Nadia, you’d be too

lewishamilton this is true, she hung up the moon and the stars

user OOOOHHHHHH LEWISSSSSS 🙂‍↕️

chunks your home is so beautiful, thanks champ 🫡

user lewis is friends with the beta squad????

user they’re nadia’s friends

louisvuitton hope you loved your gift! 🤍

lewishamilton it was gifted by Nads so it was the best 🫶🏽

user you guys are so cute, it HURTS

canadagrandprix thee it couple

mercedesamgf1 has more stories about Nadia than the Spanish gp, we have to respect it

badgalriri got a problem? 🤨

user they got Riri clocking they asses 😭😭😭

nadiahamilton

nadiahamilton i’m the cooler one

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tyla you’re the coolest of them all 😝

nadiahamilton love you always!!

nellarose_ that french vanilla cake you made? signing you up for masterchef rn!

nadiahamilton girl pls 😭

user you guys remember when the wags called her tinkerbell? she literally is tinkerbell in real life 😭

user and she smells like money and sweet flowers ‼️

nataliatheedon come back to America rn

nadiahamilton canada’s the best i can do 😣

user i feel like a certain canadian rapper is gonna show up lol

user i’m from toronto and there’s a rumour that lewis’ people are blocking off that rapper from getting near nadia because he keeps reposting her pics lollllll

user no ways lewis actually has shooters???

user he’s Lewis, what did you expect? 😭

zendaya mother graced us with her presence once again

nadiahamilton love you Z 😚

louisvuitton 🤍🤍

sza hand in marriage?

lilymhe omg hiii, let’s redo monaco?

lewishamilton hi sweetheart

nadiahamilton hi my love

user PARENTS

saint’s notes 🪩: heyyyy babies! this is one is quite short lol but i hope you enjoyed! love u all 😚 also noticed the colour schemes for their insta posts? 🫡

taglist: @non-stop-imagines @motheroffae @perfecttrashface @thisismeracing @myescapefromthislife @slytherinjimin3nthusiast @jamie2305 @cocobutterqwueen @like-fire-love-blog @sugardontbesweet @simpfortoomanymen @mauvecherie-writes @queenshikongo3 @eugene-emt-roe @deepgothfiremuffin @18754389 @cherry2stems @anubisnoir @littlelizzies-world @httpsserene @apenasumlug4r @youre-sooooo-funny @eddiesbitch83 @arshiyuh @alika-4466 @peyiswriting @sunfairyy @vsfavs @louvrepool @mistruscity @tian-monique @hopefulromantic1 @exotic-iris13 @yeea-nah @nichmeddar @gg-trini @lifeless-firefly @vellicora @takeoffz-tookoff9876 @serpenttines-library @emjayewrites @royallyprincesslilly @lewisroscoelove @purplelewlew @xoscar03 @kidsol-ar @nothaqks @tremendousstarlighttragedy @ggaslyp1

if your account is blank, that mean tumblr can’t find you!

#saint writes #renaissance: the series #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton x oc #lewis hamilton fanfics #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton x reader #x black oc #f1 x oc #f1 x black!reader #f1 imagine

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simpforrooster · 3 months

Text

i love when you call me pete.

pete ‘maverick’ mitchell x f!reader

t/w: mentions of an age gap, some smooching. drunk!maverick

summary: maverick almost drunkenly tells reader how he feels about her

a/n: lowercase intended! wrote this on my phone and have autocaps off xD two fics in one day!!!

maverick laughs as jake, one hand over his own eyes, takes aim at the dart board.

jake hits a bullseye. mav pulls out his wallet, and reluctantly hands jake a folded bill. your eyes roll at the captain’s stupidity. jake never misses a bullseye.

the guys surely hustled the poor man. mav’s hand falls on jake’s shoulder as he finishes off his beer.

“how long are you gonna stare at him?” phoenix asks with a raised brow.

“i am not staring,” you counter, knowing full well that you are indeed staring.

not that you could help it. the man may be twice your age, but he’s hot. even phoenix, happily engaged to bob, gets her an eye full of the elder captain.

you wipe down the bar in front of phoenix and hand her another lemon drop. tucking the rag in your back belt loop, you turn to hand another regular their drink.

ever since penny hired you, you’ve managed to take care of the bar almost as good as she does. she lets you take on the slower days of the week alone, and the two of you manage the weekend crowds together.

once everyone has been taken care of, you turn your attention back to your friend. you catch her admiring her ring. she looks up at you with a grin.

“sorry,” she shrugs. you shake your head.

“no indeed. i’d be gawking at that rock all day if it was mine.”

“you know you said that entire sentence looking at him and not me, right.”

you startle. she’s right. you’d basically been undressing maverick with your eyes. imagining your left hand heavy with a ring.

“you’re impossible,” she laughs.

your heart picks up its pace as maverick saunters, or better yet, sways up to the bar.

“four more, please. on my tab, babe.” maverick holds up five fingers, a giant grin on his face.

babe?

you lean over the bar and lay his thumb back against his palm. “that’s four.”

maverick looks down at you and then back to his hand. a chuckle falls languidly from his lips. “you’re right.”

phoenix raises a brow at you, out of sight from mav, who is looking at you like you’re his center of gravity.

“have i ever told you how gorgeous you are?” maverick says, still holding up those four fingers. the comment turns your insides into jelly.

“are you drunk, pete?” you ask him. there’s no way he’d be saying any of this if he were sober.

his hand falls to the bar top and his eyes fall closed. he stands there a moment, gathering himself, you assume.

his eyes open, those blue irises almost knocking you off your feet with how intense they look at you.

“i may be drunk, but that doesn’t mean i’m lying about you being gorgeous.”

phoenix grins at you over his shoulder, maverick completely oblivious to her.

no, he’s definitely only noticing you. every moved you’ve made, he’s tracked it. well, as well as he can given that he’s shitfaced.

maverick shrugs a shoulder. “maybe sober me is just nervous to tell you that.”

“pete,” you breathe. “you’re a naval aviator. there’s no way i make you nervous.”

“god, i love how you say my name,” he admits. before he can say anything else, jake and rooster appear at his side.

“come on, pops, we’ll get you home.” the men each take an arm, seeing as maverick can hardly remain upright.

he tries to shake them off. “i can’t go until i ask y/n out.”

your hand comes up to your mouth, your heart picking up pace again.

“let’s try tomorrow, mav,” rooster murmurs to his godfather. maverick vehemently shakes his head.

“no. i have to tell her now. i have to tell her i—,”

“oh no you don’t,” jake says, forcing maverick away from the bar. “you will not finish that sentence until you’re sober. she doesn’t deserve a drunk admission.”

rooster shoots you an apologetic look, handing you his card to close out the three of their tabs. you move on autopilot. punching in the men’s names, clicking on them, swiping the card, repeat. you hesitate on pete’s account. god, he did have a lot to drink.

that’s all that was. drunken words. he won’t remember any of this in the morning.

once the men are out the bar and pete is loaded in the back of the bronco, you turn to phoenix.

“what the fuck?” she screeches.

“i told them not to let him approach her with as far gone as he was,” bob comments, saddling up in the barstool next to his fiancé.

“what are you talking about, bob?” you ask.

bob shares a look with phoenix.

“you’re nuts if you’ve never seen the way he looks at you.”

“please don’t get my hopes up, bob,” you tell the bar, already fearful of those hopes plummeting once maverick comes to his senses and takes everything that just happened back.

you close out the remaining people at the bar. phoenix and bob hang around with you, walking you to your car once you’ve got the hard deck locked up.

the dagger squad take turns staying with you when you have a closing shift. they’re more protective of you than a set of new parents.

you hug your friends goodbye and drive to your apartment.

the next morning, your doorbell wakes you up with a start.

literally rolling out of the bed, you hit the floor tangled in your sheets. the doorbell chimes again. searching for a pair of pants, dread fills you as the doorbell rings once again.

what could be so urgent at..7 am?!

your mind runs through every possibility.

the doorbells chimes for a forth time just as you throw the door open, shrieking, “what?!”

pete mitchell stands on your stoop. he looks like hell. the two of you stare at one another, while pete grips the flowers he’s holding with a death grip.

you open the door wider, silently inviting him in. he follows you to the kitchen and settles at your island. the silence in the room thickens as you set to work making coffee. you feel his eyes on you the entire time.

“listen, y/n,” maverick starts, but you cut him off, sharply holding up a finger. you fish two mugs from your cabinet. you fill his mug to the brim, spooning two teaspoons of sugar in it. you fix yourself a little coffee with your creamer. setting the coffee in front of him, you step back and lean against the counter across him.

waving your hand, you tell him to proceed.

“i’m so sorry about last night,” he says, finally laying the flowers down. he runs his hands down the front of his jeans, wiping away the sweat.

“if you’re about to take it all back, i really don’t want to hear it, mav,” you tell him.

“mav..” he repeats to himself, looking at your counter top. “last night you called me pete.” he brings his eyes to yours.

you stare at him. okay, he remembers that.

“i don’t want to take any of it back, y/n.”

your breath catches at the back of your throat.

“i want to apologize,” he continues. “you didn’t deserve a drunken admission. i was being cowardly. because believe it or not, you’re ten times scarier than an f-18.”

when you say nothing, he keeps on.

“i know how to handle an f-18. i know what makes it work, how to get it back on track. i know that plan inside and out.” he takes a breath. “i don’t know how to navigate this. you.”

“me?”

“you. god, y/n. you have the ability to wreck me to my core. and i have so terrified to admit my feelings to you.”

“come on, pete, you can’t mean that,” you tell him, folding in on yourself.

“of course i do. the guys told me talking to you drunk was a bad idea. i thought i could handle it, but you just looked so gorgeous, i couldn’t help it.”

you are fully aware of how you looked last night during that fiasco. and gorgeous surely wasn’t it. not with your tank top and cut offs. and you know your hair had to be a mess. it always was at the end of a shift.

maverick rises from his stool. coming around the kitchen island, he stuffs his hands in his pockets, looking terrified as he walks over to you.

“i am sorry i tried to do this shitfaced,” he whispers, a breathe away from you. “tell me i didn’t ruin anything.”

he’s never stood this close to you, and it’s doing odd things to your heart.

“you didn’t ruin anything, pete,” you tell him. his eyes drop down to your mouth, silently asking permission. you nod, not trusting your voice to not betray how much you want this.

maverick pins you to the counter, his hands on either side of you, holding his weight off you. you speed him up by balling your hand in his shirt and pulling him down to you.

maverick grins as his mouth meets yours, falling back into his normal self. you can fill the confidence flowing through him as his hands move from the counter to your body.

his expert hands fall exactly where you need them. he deepens the kiss, his tongue running along your bottom lip. opening up to him, he pulls you tight against his body.

“fuck,” he breathes against your lips.

“tell me about it,” you murmur.

he plants tantalizing kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

“pete,” you moan. he tightens his hold in response.

“i love it when you call me pete,” he says, returning his kisses to your mouth.

#top gun maverick #top gun #top gun maverick fic #pete mitchell x you #pete mitchell x y/n #pete mitchell imagine #pete mitchell x reader #pete maverick mitchell #maverick x y/n #maverick x you #maverick fanfic #maverick imagine #maverick x reader

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simpjaes · 5 months

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hear me out.. experienced boyfie! hyung line w an inexperienced virgin!reader 🫠🫠 (you have no idea how long it took me to spell inexperienced..)

hyung line + experienced boyfriend to inexperienced/virgin reader.

warnings: virginity loss, lil bit of pain

jake:

boyfriend of exactly two weeks. he loves fast and hard, so upon realizing that his very own sweet girlfriend from college is avoiding his sexual advances because she's a virgin, he loved you even more. like marriage worthy, man wants to make you his wife.

he's the type to be obsessed with being the first and, hopefully, only man to get his dick in you. of course, he wouldn't push but he would make sure you're aware of how badly he wants to make you feel good, and how good it would feel for him in turn. saying things like "love, it's no rush but i can just imagine how tight you are-" and "i bet you get so wet." and "what if I just eat you out? maybe that would help?"

imagine you finally letting him at least engage in foreplay? maaaaaan, he would go insane. thigh fucking, dry humping, mutual masturbation, giving head, begging you to go down on him too.

by the time you'd finally let him hit, it would be because you're entirely in love with him too, and you swear you see little hearts in his eyes when he slides in for the first time. doesn't matter how experienced he is either, bro gets off like three pumps in because you really are so tight, and so wet.

jay:

"please baby? i'll go slow."

jay did not, in fact, go slow. In his defense, he did start off slow but the second he bottomed out it's like his body moved on its own and his brain went numb. Given, after a little while he'd come back to himself and apologize over and over again in your ear, through moans and little sighs. apologizing but like, also not stopping for a second.

"feels good, baby? yeah?" and he'd just answer for you like "yeah, look at you, totally gone for me."

i don't think Jay would be able to contain his horny level once he's in you, and his apologies are genuine. you'd probably whine a little bit until, well, it does feel good and you suddenly realize why people like fucking so much.

cue you wanting to get railed by Jay constantly, and who is he to say no? His libido is just as high.

free use boyfriend AND girlfriend.

sunghoon:

a perfect boyfriend, doesn't attempt to make you nervous. Because if he did, you might back out.

100% jerks off to you every. single. night. especially when you let slip that you want to lose your virginity to him on your anniversary.

he's seeing stars at the exact same moment you're seeing them, solely because the idea that you're giving yourself to him makes him feel soft and mushy. plus, like, feeling a virgin pussy squeeze and quake around his cock :( seeing your little winces? he's immediately kissing away the singular tear drop that falls and praising you for taking all of him.

he'd give you sweet lil whispers of "tell me what feels best for you, babe." and a lot of "i love yous" and "i've got yous"

by the time sex is fairly regular though? He gets a bit more rough with it, and you're definitely in love with the way he can switch from being a big soft boyfie to being an absolute mad man in bed.

Heeseung:

plays off the innocence HARDCORE.

no joke, he says shit like "So innocent, pretty girl is gonna let me fill her up?" and "you can hold on to me, i'll make you feel so good." minutes before he dives in.

and man, he would live up to all of that when it actually happens. You do, indeed, need to hold onto him with how deep he plunges himself into you. he doesn't let you adjust, praises himself and you, and is instantly throwing you into orgasms you didn't even know you could have.

it's very messy and probably not ideal for someone's first time but it sure as fuck locks you in. you've never seen heeseung act so fucking hot or so fucking into you like he is when he's rubbing your clit and bumping your cervix with the head of his cock.

maaaaaaybe sort of gives you the idea that sex is supposed to hurt before it feels good, and when he realizes that he feels guilty, apologizes, and eats you out or something. then when you tell him you kinda like the pain he's like "that's my girl"

#enhypen smut #jake smut #jay smut #heeseung smut #sunghoon smut #hardthots

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dilfl0v3rss · 1 year

Note

WAIT CS I HAVE AN IDEA-

Y/n sneaks out to a party that she don’t have no business in going and ony catches her when she get home and fuck ha shit upp Like he always doo

AWWWW SHIT NAAAAAAA. I LIKE WHERE THIS IS GOINGGGGG.😩😩😩

party pooper

cw: gun violence

word count: 2.1k

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

you were thinking about this party all week, having an outfit and everything picked so you didn’t have anything to worry about the day of. ony knew you were going out tonight, but you kind of left out the fact that you were going to the trenches to shake ass at a party. he still ended up finding out anyways, telling you to stay your ass home, but who tf want to do that.

he wasn’t supposed to be home until late so you figured you could just sneak out and be back by the time he got home. so that’s exactly what you did. your friend was outside your house by ten and you got right tf up outta there, skirt riding up your ass as you ran to the car in excitement. “bitchhh you ready?” sasha yelled, hands gripping the steering wheel as she shook in excitement.

“nah i’m actually shakin in my boots. if this man find out i think he might kill me furreal.” you and sasha were basically in the same predicament, going to this party without the approval of your boyfriends. “who give a fuck? we live right now and we’ll die laterrrr.” you giggled, nodding your head in agreement as you turned up the music and sung along for the rest of the journey.

the party was jumping. there was bitches shaking ass (including you), niggas selling drugs, and good music playing so loud that it could be heard down the block. you and sasha got comfortable real quick and we’re honestly having the most fun you’ve had in awhile. “this is your song girl you can’t let these hoes outdo youuu!!” sasha yelled as the intro to freak hoe by speaker knockerz began to play. you made your way to the middle of the floor swaying side to side until the beat dropped.

ass shaking in circles as you leaned over and held onto sasha’s arms for support. everyone’s eyes gravitated towards you as you continued moving to the song, that was until three loud gunshots were heard. bodies began to scatter everywhere as the entire party got ruined. people were jumping out of windows and running in random peoples cars just to get away from the cause of the deadly sound.

you and sasha finally made it to her car. pissed that your fun was ruined. “Y/N! bring your ass over here, NOW!!” your body froze as you listened to the familiar voice. while you was too busy being hardheaded and living it up at a party you shouldn’t be at, you didn’t think to try to at least be lowkey. ony and connie were chilling at their trap house when he looked one of his friend’s story. there you were, shaking ass for the whole world to see, skirt practically on your stomach as you gave everyone a show.

“man ima kill this girl” connie looked at his friend in concern before bubbling with the same anger as he watched the video replay on his phone. “i know that’s not my girl in the back. yea we out.” connie grumbled, pointing at sasha who was right behind you recoding as well. with that the two of them sped to the party, guns hidden securely on their waists as they walked inside.

ony didn’t plan on shooting it up, he actually was just gon calmly grab you up outta there for your safety because this is a bad area you were in. he looked around the house until his eyes landed on the center of a big circle of people. once he registered the sight in front of him he could help but reach right for his gun. your boyfriend was nowhere near insecure. he knew it was your body and that you had every right to shake some ass if you wanted, but the sight of the men around you made him sick.

cameras out, zooming closer and closer to your more private areas as you were obliviously dancing along to your favorite song. in no time his gun was out and there were three bullets let off in the ceiling. ony watched the people scatter as he waited inside for the house to be empty. him and connie stood on the porch, watching you stand next to sasha while she scrambled in her bag for her keys.

“m’not playin wit you girl. come over here now or it’s just gon be worse for you at home.” your legs moved slowly as you thought of an excuse as to why you were here. before you knew it, you were face to face with his heavy breathing chest, instantly making you revert your eyes to the ground. “unt uhh look at me mama. ian down there.” his strong hand wrapped around your throat, forcing your head to shoot upwards towards his face.

“here’s what’s gon happen. you gon get in the car, quietly. ion wanna here no crying or whining during this whole ride or ima add it on to the lesson ima teach you when we get home, understand?” his voice was low and menacing as he stared into your eyes, face drained of any emotion. “o-okay.” your lungs filled with air as ony let go of your neck, nodding towards his car.

you sat in the passenger seat scared shitless as you watched him give the guy that threw the party a stack of cash, probably for the damage he caused, before dapping connie up and saying goodnight to sasha. he got in the car quietly, not sparing you a single glacé before driving the two of you home. the ride was completely silent like he wanted. any excuses you thought of were quickly swallowed as well as the urge to cry.

you didn’t even notice when you got home until you felt your door open. “let’s go.” ony mumbled. he walked you to the living room, manspreading on the couch while you stared down at him. “m’really really really so-” he sucked his teeth before throwing you over hip lap. skirt already so short that his brown eyes got a good view of your soaked panties. warm palm caressing your ass as he spoke. “what’d i tell you baby?”

the smoothness of his voice made you shiver. “why you shakin’? ian spank you yet.” a chuckle rumbled from ony’s chest as he listened intently for your reply. “m’scared.” you were terrified. usually when you’d get in trouble your boyfriend would lecture you and make a big fuss so his calmness was very foreign to you.

“good.” a hard smack was brought to your ass causing the pending tears in your eyes to begin to fall. your hands instantly flew to cover your burning skin, sheliding them from his rough palms. “you know why ian want you over there right?” he grabbed both of your hands into his singular one, ignoring your whimpers. “b-because it’s n-not sa-“

“because it’s not fucking safe, that’s right. a nigga could’ve put sum in your drink or snatched you up. that’s the shit that be happening at parties like that and instead of being my good girl and listening to me, you decided to be. a. brat.” three more strikes were made to your ass. each harder than the last as you thrashed around on his thighs. “m-m’sorry papa.”

your tears created a small wet patch to form on the couch. you honestly didn’t mean to make him worry so much. it was just that you haven’t gotten to go out in awhile and wanted to finally have some fun. the wet patch went unnoticed until your cheek was smushed into it. ony removed himself from under you, positioning his body behind your before pushing your back down. “yea i bet you are baby. hold onto that pillow right there.”

head nodding towards the cushion as he untied the strings of his sweatpants. you gushed at the sight of his print through his grey briefs, moaning out loud as you thought of how good he was going to feel. “look straight mama. this a punishment, not a reward.” you obeyed, gripping the pillow tightly as you prepared yourself for the stinging stretch of his dick.

“be g-gentle daddy.” you mumbled as ony gripped both of your asscheeks, pulling your panties to the side and squeezing them as he spreader them apart. “be obedient.” he trusted his full length into you, giving you no time to prepare as he began pounding you into the cushion of the couch. “oouuu fuck mama. you always so tight.” ony groaned, hand flat on your back as his other delivered many slaps on your ass.

you outstretched your arm, pushing at his stomach for him to ease up. “p-pleaseeee aahhgg. jus take a little out daddyyyy.” whining as you were already trying to run from him. ony grabbed the bottom of your shirt, pulling your ass all the way back to him to the point where you were flush against his stomach. “stop running and take this shit. and move your fucking hand. barely even started yet.” he slapped your hand away, continuing to pound into you.

all eight inches of him curving just right in your pussy. as you got more used to his size, your heat grew wetter as the constant friction. moans began flying from your mouth left and right making you tighten round him. “there you go mama. takin me like a good girl.” his hips began snapping into you harder, making it more difficult for you to take him. “ahh w-wait a little bit daddy. s’too biggg.”

ignoring you, ony thrusted into you harder, pushing your back down lower so he could reach that spongy spot deep inside you. your stomach brushed against the couch as your body jolted. “unt uhh baby where’s the big girl that like t’sneak out, huh? where’s the girl that like to go out and shake her ass in a skimpy lil skirt while her man is worried sick about her?” where she at?”

wetness trickling down your thighs as you kept your death grip on the pillow. “s-she said she’s ahh s-sorry. m’sorryyyy daddyyy.” ony halted his trusts, giving you a hard slap on your ass and tightening his grip on your shirt. “mhmm throw that ass back princess. make it up to daddy.” his strong arm started you off by pulling you back and forth by your shirt before letting you do it on your own. ass clapping repeatedly as you twerked on his dick.

his brown eyes rolling as he felt you clench tighter around him. you continued working yourself on his shaft, chasing your upcoming orgasm. “d-daddy?”you were met with nothing but his hips fucking you back as he stared at where the two of you were connected. he was hypnotized by your body. “baby?” his head snapped up towards yours, shaking himself out of his thoughts before replying. “y-yea pretty? ahh fuck.” he breathed.

“i’m r-really sorry. i d-didn’t mean to make y-you worry, honest. i-i jus wanted t’go have funn, and when you told me the day of that i wasn’t allowed i g-got a little upset. i wont g-go over there e-ever again i swearrrr.” you began pushing yourself back harder as you held eye contact. ony’s resolve weakened as he felt his blood begin rushing to his dick, signaling to him he was going to cum if he didn’t get in control quickly.

ony’s hand tangled in your hair before pulling you up to his chest, arm wrapping around your middle as he kissed up and down your neck. his long tongue licked a stripe behind your ear before whispering dirty words to you. “mhmm. m’not finna say it’s okay ‘cause it’s not, but i forgive you mama. now keep making daddy feel good and i’ll give you this nut. how dat sound?” his teeth closed around your ear, gold girls pinching the skin. “y-yes please.”

the both of you moved on one accord, fucking each other dumb as you reached your climax’s. body growing weak and legs shaking as your thick cream rushed down his shaft. ony easily held you up, continuing to use you as his personal fleshlight. “ughh fuck baby m’finna cum.” his pace quickened, hips pistoning into you as you screamed from the overstimulation. he gave you one final trust before kissing you to keep you quiet, moaning into your mouth as his hot ropes flowed into your walls.

the two of you stayed like that for awhile, giving each other light kisses as you panted in each others mouths. “lemme get the water ready mama. we needa take a bath.”

#aot onyankopon #onyankopon x black reader #aot x black reader #onyankopon x reader #aot #plug!ony #plug!onyanopon

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dear-bunnyboo · 7 months

Note

I am in love with your fics 💕

Can I please request a Joe Burrow one shot where it’s about his calf early in the season, the reader constantly worries about Joe and tells him to sit each game out but Joe is stubborn so he doesn’t listen and Joe snaps at one point and it hurts the reader. Then it moves to one day where the reader doesn’t even bother worrying about him because the reader knows Joe won’t listen. Can it be angsty but end on a good note.

first Joey B one-shot angst!!! Love this request so much and it kinda lowkey reminded me of my other Joe Burrow one-shot— IDGAF 🤍

I never intended this one-shot to be too perfect for our current situation but it is what it is. This is for all my loves who are all lowkey freaking out because of the game, hope this makes you feel better even more just a moment 🤍

𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐘𝐄𝐒 || 𝐉𝐎𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Joe Burrow x Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You just want Joe to listen to you and say yes for once.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst, cursing, mentions of injuries, shouting, frustrated!Joe, arguments, crying, fluff in the end

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐜. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You thought that this season would start different for your boyfriend Joe but it seems like it’s simply rotten luck on his part— you could say that Joe is a lucky guy; from being gifted with insane talent, skill, looks, personality, and the likes. However, he seems to have a knack on starting his football season either injured or sick.

It started with his knee injury during his rookie year— tearing left ACL and MCL during one of his games. Then him rupturing his appendix the year after, earning him another trip to the surgery table.

You honestly thought that this year was gonna be different for the quarterback. He has always been vocal about his disappointment in missing the beginning of each season— one of Joe’s many goals every year to to start the season healthy and end it healthy.

You and Joe thought that this year would be finally be the year he starts off strong and healthy— you were both wrong.

After getting a call from the Bengals’ coach Zach Taylor about your boyfriend being carted off the practice field for straining his calf; you were pretty sure you were close to crying. Joe’s calf injury surprisingly is the least serious out of all the injuries he had sustained but seeing your boyfriend so depleted once he got home from that practice hurt you.

Joe loves football. He loves what he does and it hurts you to see him so defeated.

However, Joe is not one to give up that easily. Once he got the clearance to continue with practice, he went straight for it and he was adamant on playing their first game of the season. You, however, you didn’t think it was a good idea for him to do so. Most of the people around him want him to sit the first few weeks out— you especially; scared that he might aggravate his injury even further.

But Joe was a lot of things and stubborn was one of those things.

He simply brushed your concerns off with a smile, “I feel good to play, baby. I need to play.” Joe reassured you before slightly limping over to his office to do his film study.

“You really don’t need to. It’s the first week, Joe.” You tried again before he could even leave your sights.

Joe turns to face you, and gave you another reassuring smile, “I’m fine. Alright? I’ll be okay.”

He was proven very wrong when week 1 rolled in and they loss to Cleveland— a terrible start for the season, you love Joe and are pretty bias towards the Bengals but you’d be lying if you said they didn’t play like ass that day.

Joe clearly wasn’t playing like himself. Everyone with two working eyes could see that his injury was holding him back—every tackle, every run, every movement he made made you gnaw on your lips.

You knew that he was blaming himself, yet you also knew that this would only push Joe to try even harder when the one thing he should be doing is rest.

“Joe, seriously. I don’t think you should play next week.” You tried reasoning out to your hard-headed boyfriend who seemed like he had his mind already made.

“That was a terrible game we just had. Which why I need to play next week so we can start strong— get our footing back.” Joe sighed as he ran his hands over his face in frustration as he remembered his awful performance.

“You are injured— you’re calf isn’t fully healed yet, people understand.” You said standing in front of the quarterback, trying to console the inconsolable.

“That’s not an excuse.”

“It is—”

“I’m playing next week— that’s final. Now, can we please talk about something else?” Joe cuts you off.

You blinked a couple times at your boyfriend before sighing, succumbing to his request you turned to move to the kitchen.

“What do you want to eat?”

You succeeded in changing the subject to your surprise earning a appreciative smile from Joe. As you made your dinner, you conversed with your boyfriend while you thought about the next game against the Ravens.

…

0-2

Week 2, different team, same predicament.

The Bengals lost, again. Which honestly didn’t come as a surprise for you— it was a better game at least, compared to the shit show that was week 1.

Joe did however, re-tweak his calf. Seeing him limp off the field after the game broke your heart. You could practically feel the frustration come out of Joe from a mile away— hopefully, this time he says yes to you and rest.

However, when Joe got home, you knew right away that his injury wouldn’t him from playing.

When you opened the door to greet your boyfriend, you immediately noticed the way he was leaning all his weight on his good leg. His brows were furrowed and his lips were pressed into a tight line— you had an inkling that you were not going to like whatever he was about to say.

And you were right.

“Before you even say anything— I’m fine. I only re-tweaked it and yes, I will be playing next week.” Joe hobbled inside the house, heading towards the kitchen to fix himself a drink.

“Joe you’re not okay.” You said firmly finally putting your foot down causing Joe to turn to look at you.

“You just strained your calf, you only re-tweaked it, what the hell is next, Joe?” You said trying to keep you voice calm, however, your furious eyes staring into Joe’s was betraying what you truly felt.

Your boyfriend threw his head back with a deep sigh in frustration. You two have seem to have the same conversation over and over again every week— and Joe didn’t understand why you can’t grasp the fact that he will be present every game. While you didn’t understand that Joe can’t grasp the fact that he needed to sit his ass down before he hurts himself even more.

In all honesty, you were scared— terrified even. You knew what you signed up for the second you accepted to be Joe’s girlfriend. You understood how dangerous it’s gonna be, you understood how hard it’s going to be for the both of you. But after tearing his ACL and MCL you were just living on the edge; constantly in fear that something even terrible was going to happen.

Getting that call from Zach, shook you to your core. You remembered dreading that it was gonna be career ending, luckily it wasn’t— just a strained calf, but on the rate Joe is going, you’ll never know.

“How many times am I going to tell you that I’m fine?” Joe was finally angry… angry at you. Listening to his tone made your heart drop, yet you can’t blame him. You know how much pressure he’s in; the amount of times people called him names just because of his bad performances; especially after signing a $275 million deal.

“All I’m asking is one game, Joe. Just one. Just sit one out— if you listened to me and didn’t play week 1 we wouldn’t be in this predicament.” You said defeatedly.

“And if you listened to me you’d actually know that I’m fine.” The quarterback retaliated.

The two of you were now face to face in the kitchen, both trying not to let anger get the best of you two and scream.

“Stop saying that when you are clearly in pain, Joe!” You threw your hands up in frustration as you watched your boyfriend eye you up and down.

“I don’t understand why you’re so worked up about this— it’s my health, my job, my life!” Joe grunts moving to walk away to hole himself back into his office.

His health. His job. His life. While his girlfriend is losing her goddamn mind.

“I’m concerned, Joe. It’s my job to worry about yo–”

“Then fucking don’t!” Joe snaps at you making you step back in shock.

Joe has never yelled at you, not once.

“And again, I’m playing next week whether you like it or not.” Joe’s tone finally calmed down, his blue eyes eyeing your still figure as you stared at him as if you didn’t know who he was.

Just then did Joe realized what he said to you— and moreover, how he said it. His eyes soften under the realization, his tall figure walking towards you to gather you in his arms and apologize.

But before he could do so, something snapped inside of you.

“Baby, I’m so so–”

“No. You’re right. I’m sorry.” You shook your head as if snapping yourself out of a trance before looking up at your now concerned boyfriend who was watching you closely.

His health. His job. His life.

“What do you want for dinner?” You smiled at him, the fakest one you could muster— Joe noticed, he wasn’t stupid… maybe he was a little.

“Do you want pasta? I’ll make you pasta.”

…

Thankfully week 3 was successful.

The Bengals’ first win of the season. The game wasn’t up to par with their usual standards of playing but a win is a win— and you were grateful for that win, for your sake and Joe’s.

The days leading up to the game against the Titans were fast approaching and Joe was frustrated. During practice he took notice how he still wasn’t 100% healthy and that bothered the quarterback; it affected his mobility and his speed mostly which throws his game off.

They won their first game of the season and Joe knows not to be complacent. Yet, he can’t help but hear that nagging voice inside his head that was telling him that you were right— hell, everyone was right. You weren’t the only one who wants him to skip a few games. Ever since his calf injury, his teammates, his coach, his parents, and the fans were all adamant for him to rest.

Obviously, Joe didn’t listen which only caused his calf to take longer to heal which you warned him would happen. As he hobbled up inside his house after practice, he was greeted by the sound of the living room TV— there you were snuggled up on the couch fully immersed as you watched your favorite show.

“Hey.” Joe announced his arrival causing you to turn the TV off and turn to him with a reserved smile.

“Hey, how was practice?” You asked before walking up to the quarterback placing a kiss on his awaiting lips.

“It was tiring as usual.” Joe stated as he wrapped his arms around your waist before continuing, “My calf is sore too.” He confessed guilt filled his face as he awaited for your reaction.

“I’ll prepare an ice compress. Sit down and elevate your leg up the couch.” You pulled away from him before pushing him down the couch lightly. You placed a few pillows at the end of the couch and carefully helped Joe place his injured leg on it.

You quietly moved to get his ice compress not saying another word which was unusual for you— shocking Joe. He was so sure the you were gonna scold him again.

But you didn’t.

You placed the ice compress on his injured calf, placed a kiss on his lips, before turning to him and saying, “I need to shower. Just yell if you need anything.”

Then you left.

No scolding, no questions, no expressing of concern— nothing.

Clearly what Joe said the other day is still bothering you. You still cared and loved the man, obviously. You still took care of him. But your opinions— as much as you’re concerned are not needed, so you kept quiet and kept them to yourself.

Joe didn’t like it at all. He knew he messed up the second he said what he said. The look on your face pained him, he hated himself for talking to you in such way and making you feel like you were in the wrong.

And now you’ve shut down.

While Joe was thankful for the ice compress, he can only hope that the next one he gets from you would be accompanied by the same smile that always greets him whenever he gets home from a long day of practice.

…

2-2

It was the last week of September and the Bengals were still winning. However, Joe wasn't winning.

The quarterback knew that you were still angry with him. He knew that ever since the moment he got home. It's been weeks since he had a proper conversation with you— it was as if the both of you were living separate lives, and it killed him.

Every morning he would wake up with his breakfast and medicine ready and every night, dinner would be on the table with your plate untouched and the leftovers covered and put away inside the fridge.

Joe had never been in this position before. You have never been mad at him, never. Not once. Sure, the two of you have fought over trivial things here and there but never had the two of you had a fight as big as this one.

Joe knows how much he fucked up, yet he's not sure if you were ready to forgive him or if he even deserved it.

And it seems like, the universe is testing his patience.

Joe was frustrated, so damn frustrated. This season wasn't going as well as he wanted it to go and with his calf injury, his mobility was greatly affected and the pain was also hindering him from playing to his fullest capacity.

And it was getting harder and harder to hide it from his girlfriend.

You were starting to catch on, and you were starting to suspect that something was going on with him. But being the stubborn and proud man he was, he refused to let it affect his performance, or the relationship with his girlfriend.

After an excruciating practice, the quarterback was greeted by the sight of his beautiful girlfriend, who was already in the kitchen cooking for dinner.

"Hey." Joe greeted.

"Hi." You simply greeted back without even looking up from the vegetables you were cutting.

"Smells good." He tried, wanting to engage a conversation with you.

"Thank you." You smiled before throwing the vegetables in the pan, "Dinner will be ready in a bit. Can you wash up?"

Joe stared at your back for a few moments before nodding his head, "Alright."

You heard the bathroom door close and that's when you decided to let the tears fall from your eyes.

You missed your boyfriend. You wanted your boyfriend back.

This whole thing was draining you. You hated having to keep yourself together and act as if everything was alright. It was eating you inside.

You weren't the type to hold grudges, especially to Joe. You always understood his point of view, and even if he was wrong, you'd always forgive him. But the way he talked to you last time, the way he treated you, made your heart ache.

"Fuck." You muttered as you wiped the tears from your eyes and proceeded to cook dinner.

You can't remember how long it had been since you've properly talked to Joe. The both of you have been tiptoeing around each other, not wanting to push the other's buttons.

And you were sick of it.

"How was practice?" You asked once the two of you had sat down at the dining table to eat.

Joe looked up from his food and gave you a small smile, "It was good."

You nodded your head and proceeded to eat.

"How was your day?" Joe asked after a few minutes of silence.

"It was fine."

Joe sighed before looking up at you, "Please don't do that."

"What?" You feigned innocence.

"Pretend."

"What are you talking about?" You said defensively.

"Baby, come on. You know exactly what I'm talking about." Joe said.

You rolled your eyes before scoffing, "I'm not pretending."

"You've barely said a word to me in the past three weeks. Do you honestly expect me to believe that?"

"Oh, because you didn't say a word to me either. And you were the one who told me to not worry. So, I'm not worrying." You fired back.

"You're being stubborn."

"Oh, now I'm the stubborn one?" You chuckled sarcastically.

"Yeah. You are." Joe nodded his head.

"So, what? Are we just not going to talk until we die?"

"Well, clearly that's the option that you're leaning on."

"I can't talk to you when you're acting like a dick!" You exclaimed, clearly tired of him putting the blame on you.

"Because you're the picture perfect definition of maturity and rationality."

"You're such a fucking asshole." You muttered, pushing your plate away from you before standing up.

"Where are you going?"

“Away from you.” You moved to walk towards the bedroom.

Joe let out a frustrated groan before standing up to catch your hand in his.

“Can we please talk about this? Properly like adults?” Joe was practically begging at this point.

You stared at him, contemplating if you should actually have a civil conversation or just brush him off.

However, Joe didn't give you the time to think.

He leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was slow and sweet and everything you needed to finally snap. You pulled away and looked at him, his blue eyes gazing into yours.

"Joe..."

"I'm so sorry."

Joe didn't know where it came from. One moment he was pleading for you to listen to him, and then the next thing he knows is that his mouth was already moving, "I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry for not listening to you, and I'm sorry for taking it all out on you. I'm sorry for hurting you, baby. I didn't mean what I said, and I regretted it the second it came out of my mouth. I'm so, so sorry."

He kissed your forehead before cupping your face in his hands.

"I'm not asking for your forgiveness. I'm not even gonna ask if I'm forgiven because I probably don't deserve it. But, I need you to know that I'm sorry."

You looked up at him before nodding your head, "I'm not mad at you anymore, Joe. I was, and I was hurt. But I wasn't mad."

"I was hurt sure but I knew how frustrated you were and how much pressure you are in— so i understand.” You sighed. “ I hate seeing you hurt and I know how much you love your job but what if it’s also the reason you lose it?” You finally confessed as your eyes filled with a light mist.

“I just want you to rest. For a day at least— cause that is never gonna get better if you didn’t and you know it.” You pointed at his injured calf as you explained.

“Yes, baby. I know and I will.” Joe promised.

And he kept that promise— leading on after their bye week, they have been winning games after games. Joe’s performance drastically changed from how he started. Everyone could see that their quarterback was back, which you couldn’t take credit for— cause Joe was a lot of things; stubborn, hard-headed, but he is also hard working.

And you couldn’t be more proud.

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bumblebeesfromvenus · 4 months

Text

TF141 w/ a chubby girl♡

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

A/N: I'm definitely all for "fictional characters don't have a type bc YOU are their type." But I dreamt of Johnny, and he was obsessed with tummies, so I had to write something <3

~Fi 🐝

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick ♡

Kyle is such a cutie, I can't. First of all, he's always smiling like an idiot when it comes to you. Whether he's talking about you, admiring you or if your name is even just mentioned.

He's the biggest gentleman the world has ever seen!! Especially when you first start dating. He's holding all the doors for you, bringing you flowers and complimenting you every chance he gets. No, seriously, he will drown you in praises and compliments until you either tell him to stop before you overheat, or when you're such a flustered mess that he can't help but grin proudly at the affect he has on you.

He's the best boyfriend ever and you can quote me on that!!

Kyle is so, so gentle with you. Whether that's touches or how he talks to you. He's head over heels for you. I feel like he'd move in with you very fast. He just needs to be near you. Not necessarily in a touchy way like John, but only sitting next to you while either of you do your own thing makes him happy.

On a particularly good day, he lets out his teasing side. Kyle whistles at you or lovingly cat-calls you from across the living room. He's always making comments about your body when he's like this, telling you how hot you are. He will get touchy if you need more convincing.

Tightly wrapping his arms around your waist and jokingly poking your tummy while placing soft kisses on your cheek and down your neck.

On a lazy day when the two of you are just lounging in bed, he rests his chin on your thighs and shimmies your shirt up to your waist so he can trace any stretch marks you have on your stomach. He's just gently brushing the tip of his finger over them, mesmerized by how they seem to shimmer.

He definitely calls you his little Tiger as a cute nickname. Not only do you have the stripes, but you're fierce and strong, and he loves that about you. I'm not even kidding when I tell you he would trace your stretch marks for literal hours.

That's until you feel him stop, look down, only to see him having fallen asleep with his hands on your lower back.

If you ever feel sad or uncomfortable in your own skin, he'll take your hands and guide you in front of a mirror with him right behind you. Kyle would ask you to tell him all the things that bother you or that you don't think are pretty, and he'd tell you how he sees all those things.

They make you so uniquely you, so of course he loves them. Each one of your insecurities will get a little soft kiss from him, and sometimes, he shares some of his insecurities with you to show you that you're not alone.

Although, I don't think he has many physical insecurities (if any tbh) so you can't kiss them, but his lips and face will have to do. He's such a comforting personality. He'd be one of the best people to go to about things like this. He's not as radical in his methods as John, but they work just as well.

Kyle takes you out on cute dates all the time. Like at least once a week. It's his way of showing you off to other people. It's definitely more discreet than John, (he's learned a lot from his Captain/Friend) but he's always looking if other people whip their heads around and gasp in awe at how cute of a couple you are.

He takes pride in his relationship with you. He was positively beaming when an older couple came up to you and commented on how well of a match you were and that they were like that too when they were younger.

And when the old lady tells you what a beautiful young lady you are, you take the compliment with confidence, earning a squeeze from Kyle's hand in yours. He's so happy and proud of how far you've come.

And the boyfriend of the year award goes to... Kyle "Gaz" Garrick <3

Captain John Price ♡

John has a chubby wife in every universe and you can not and will not change my mind (chubby chaser Price *cough* *cough*). He's the perfect candidate for a bigger girl, are you kidding me???

He loves wholly and truthfully, and he will show you just how much he adores you if you ever doubt him.

He's just such a man, you know? He loves REAL women. Rolls, stretch marks, cellulite, body hair, scars. He's there for all of it. John loves nothing more than to come home to you. You're his home. You feel him sigh, and his shoulders slack every time he returns and hoists you into his arms. If he could merge with you and always be enveloped by your warmth and softness, he would.

Besides, he's got some huge hands, so he needs something to grab on to!

John is so incredibly touchy when he comes home from deployment. It might not seem like it with his stoic Captain facade, but he needs to have his hands on you whenever he can. He's always holding your hand, a hand on your cheek, squeezing your thigh, an arm slung over your shoulders, tracing patterns on your upper arm.

We all know he's built like an absolute wall of a man, and he will just snatch you away from whatever you were doing and plop you down in his lap just to hold you close. The comfort of your weight on his chest always makes him feel safe.

He loves to do this when he has reports to finish. John gets to hear you talk again, and he listens while he writes the reports and finishes off file after file.

In my mind, he loves to read, especially something like murder mysteries (add ten points if they have something historical in them) and, yeah, the couch is fine but he never reads more comfortably than when he has his head resting on your thighs, the best pillow in the house in his opinion, and holding your hand.

John is such a kiss fanatic. This goes along with his need to hold and touch you all the time (he's reassuring himself that you're safe and that you're the one thing he didn't fail to protect) he has his lips on your skin as much as he can. It doesn't even need to be a full kiss. His lips grazing over your neck or the back of your hand has him content as ever.

He would definitely be the best at reassuring you if you ever feel insecure about your body. He never lies and keeps this word. You have no choice but to believe him that you're the image of a carefully chiseled marble statue.

I feel like maybe he'd get a bit cheesy with his analogies, but he can't have you thinking less of yourself. It makes him sad, truthfully. He loves you with all that he is, and he will make you believe it and prove it to you.

John has definitely fallen on his knees before you and talked a solid half hour about how beautiful you are, that he loves every pound on you and that he would ask you to marry him over and over and over again.

The way he would show you off so much. He'd dress you in sparkly dresses and jewelery and just watch with a smirk as jaws fall to the floor and eyes widen when the pair of you attends an event.

He definitely polishes up his wedding ring 2 times a day just in case someone got the idea to hit on him, he can flash the ring and then follow it with a wide smile and a picture of you.

He loves how your softness and plumpness is such a nice contrast to his rugged and hardened edges.

You take care of him, and he takes care of you. And the curve of your tummy makes him smile when he remembers that you're home and shielded from everything he's seen.

You're John Price's sanctuary, his cushiony paradise, and he'll love you forever <3

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish ♡

Soap loves when you're wearing a (his) shirt, and it stretches over the outline of your tummy. The dip of your belly button and the curve of your soft pudge (I literally dreamt this. Not even kidding, he would NOT shut up about it. Best dream of my life) He gets weak in the knees.

You better be quick because when he sees that, this man will squish his face into your tummy so fast.

Johnny bites, too. Softly, of course, but he will gently gnaw and nibble on the fat of your stomach to his hearts content. If he was a cat, he'd be purring so loud that the walls shake.

He can't help it. You're so soft and squishy and lovable!! Soap loves to knead and grab at your body, just watching some of your chub spill through his fingers. He definitely gets cuteness aggression when it comes to you, pinching your cheeks (both pairs, hehe) and hugging you so tightly while gritting compliments through his teeth.

Basically, he loves you so much that he could explode.

Johnny wants you to drape over him like a blanket. Like a warm, soft, comforting blanket that gives him kisses. He actually gets a small crisis sometimes because he can't decide whether he wants you to sleep on top of him, or if he wants to bury his face in your tummy and knock out in 2 minutes.

If he chooses the latter, his snores vibrate softly into your skin. It's an odd feeling at first, but now it gives you comfort, knowing that he's alive and breathing. Because he does not care for that when he's face down in tummy-heaven and you have to pry him away to take a breath.

Johnny loves to have his hands on your hips. You're his stressball at this point. He'll always fiddle with a part of you. But your hips will forever be his favorite. He can grab handfuls of you and feel so much of you.

He will slide his hands past the sides of your panties and just hold your hips, your underwear, keeping them in place so nicely. Johnny will gently pinch the fat of your hips sometimes, just to see your reaction. It has him grinning like the cheshire cat, the cheeky bastard.

He thinks you're so pretty. Like so, so, so, so, so pretty. Johnny stares at you with heart eyes, a lovesick smile, and occasionally a dreamy sigh slips out. He can't help himself. You're so beautiful and perfect and his. You've definitely caught him pumping his fist in the air when he thinks you're not looking because he's so happy that he's yours.

Will brag about you so hard. To anyone and everyone. No one is safe. Not even the old lady in the shop he helped get something from a shelf. He's pulling up pictures on his phone or the one he particularly likes, of which he has a solid copy in his wallet.

He's so in love with you and your softness, it's insane.

One thing about Soap? He loves a good challenge. You come at him with that "I'm too heavy!" Bullshit Or you feel bad about being a bigger girl and you're already lifted off the ground while angry scottish rambling hits your ears. The absolute disbelief on his face when you even imply that you're not attractive or not his caliber. He will not have any of it!! You're perfect. He won't argue with you.

You wanna be manhandled? He'll manhandle you, sweetheart. Always carefully and lovingly, he would never, ever want to hurt you (even if you asked him to, bless his soul, he can't bring himself to do it). You're too precious to him! You wanna be carried like a princess? Say less, Bonnie, he's carrying you like a QUEEN.

Johnny is so strong. Like so fucking strong (I literally saw a video of Neil rep deadlifting 405, kill me now) and he will use it for and against you!!

Maybe you're being a little stupid (whatever that may entail for you personally lmao) and he's grabbing you and carrying you across the room.

Again, he loves the challenge. He'll push himself that little bit further when he trains in the gym and not only does he look good, but the surprise on your face when he comes back and suddenly he's strong enough to throw you over his shoulder?? So worth it.

The weight of you is the weight of your love, and Johnny MacTavish wants to be crushed by it.

Simon "Ghost" Riley ♡

Upon meeting you, Simon does not care what your body looks like. Like at all. It's your personality that absolutely captivates him, and he feels himself drawn to you constantly.

Simon acknowledges that you're attractive, but he could really care less if you're big or small. He values different things. Simon is a deeply troubled man, so the way you love and trust is way more important to him than physical appearance.

That's not to say he doesn't notice the benefits he gets from having a chubby girlfriend over time. He's in love with you, period. Once that happens, there's no going back. The longer you're together, the more obsessed he gets with you and your soft body and curves.

You fit like puzzle pieces, like you were made to heal all his aches and cure all his ailments. He's not too keen on physical touch at first, but he becomes a fucking maniac for you. It's even more than with John, Simon always has you with him.

No matter where he needs to go, you're coming with him. And if it's some military thing and they say you can't come? He's not going. You're not going, he's not going. Easy.

You two always manage to mesmerize people. How ever did you, a soft little thing, get this behemoth of a man so soft?

Although only very few get to see Simon be an absolute sap. He would do absolutely anything for you. You're his deity, and he's a devoted follower, willing to give his soul to you. I feel like he's very lost sometimes, he doesn't know his place or purpose in the world. You give him a purpose.

Simon makes it his goal to come back to you each time. Adjusting back to civilian life is difficult for him, but you helped him find some methods and tasks that make it just that little bit easier.

He loves it when you cook him food. Simon eats a lot, and no offense to the Cook on base or the MRE's, but your food is just his personal heaven. Even if you can't cook many things, he appreciates it all.

He's very much a man of few words but meaningful actions. So, when you do something nice for him, he feels so loved. Words don't mean that much to him purely because of the amount of liars he's met, but when you do something, no matter how small, he engulfes you in a hug and presses his lips to your forehead.

You've helped him become a better version of himself simply by loving him, and he will forever be grateful to you.

When Simon finds you prodding and poking at yourself while staring in the mirror with a crease between your brows, he knows he has to do something.

He pulls you into his lap and gently holds your cheek while telling you how amazing and gorgeous you are. As I said before, he's not a man of many words, so this means a great deal coming from him. Simon loves everything about you. There are no flaws in his eyes. And yes, that does include the rolls of fat on your body and all the chub that comes with it. (let's be real, no matter how big you are, Simon could carry you with ease)

You're so soft. He uses you as his personal teddy bear. He holds you close to his chest, and he has never slept better than when you were pressed against him.

I also think he’d be the perfect man for a chubby girl because he doesn't need to be as afraid of breaking you. He's very rough, and you're so fragile to him. He's assured that you won't fall apart if he just as much as look at you.

Again, big hands, that fit perfectly on the curve of your tummy.

Simon loves taking baths with you. The intimacy and closeness combined with the warm water and gentle scents has his muscle relaxing like never before. He found that you're even softer when your wet bodies are smushed against each other.

Simon Riley is infatuated with you and your extra pounds make it that little bit better in his eyes <3

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

There's still so much more I could add, I love these boys to death <3

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simpxxstan · 6 days

Text

it isn't you

pairing: elementary school teacher!boo seungkwan x f.reader

genre: fluff and angst.

summary: you're ready to begin a completely new life in seoul, away from your ex-husband and your baggage of regrets. but fate has different plans for you when you meet seungkwan again, and this time, you don't want to let go.

word count: 8.3k words

rating: pg 13

warnings: reader is a single mother. mentions of divorce, cold parents, poor parent-child relationship, anxiety and worries. mention of accidental pregnancy.

a/n: i CRAVE seungkwan w babies content and i wrote this completely to indulge my own craving. hope you enjoy! as always, would love to hear your thoughts!! reblogs and comments are so much appreciated <3

this is part of the boys over flowers series featuring booseoksoon + chan! this is the second instalment in that series.

“Eomma, there’s no need to be so scared!” Dahyun reminds you, putting her little hands on your arms as she hugs you. “Yes, yes,” you pause your mumbling and hug her back. It’s hard to believe that she turned four last week because she still feels so tiny in your arms. She’s definitely more calm than you as you both stand in front of the school you’ve come to enrol her at.

“It’s just… I’m just checking that you have everything with you. Okay. Eomma will come at three pm, and get you started in the creche, okay? Please listen to your teachers. If you want, talk to your classmates, hmm? I won’t force yo-” “Eomma! Shh! I’ve been to a school before, you know? I know how schools work.” She makes a serious face, and you laugh. “Alright, darling. When Eomma comes, let me know how your first day was. I love you Dahyun-ah, have fun, hmm?” And you press kisses to the side of her head before she plants a wet smooch on your cheek and runs off. “Bye Eomma!”

And she runs without looking back, and you wonder how she’s so relaxed and you’re so tense about her first day.

Probably because you had been a wreck throughout your school days. Well, she’s turned out to be quite not like you. Good for her. Easy for you. You remember your mother being so stressed because her daughter cried after every first day in each new class year at school, didn’t make a single friend till she turned seven, and barely scraped through most of her classes. Yeah, easy for you.

It’s been two months since you’ve shifted from Gwangju to Seoul, and to be honest, you’ve felt like it’s your first day in school again for each day of the last two months. Finding a place for yourself and your daughter, settling down in your new job, and now, getting your daughter’s life started after you uprooted it in the middle of the school year when you moved out of Gwangju. It’s nice that Dahyun’s barely made a mess about it all- she’s honestly too understanding as a child, and you don’t deserve her- but it’s still worrying for you to see your daughter go through all this at such a tender age and think of what impact it may have on her later. Your parents haven’t been the least bit supportive, so all you have is Dahyunie and all she has is you.

When you’re getting up on the bus, once you see Dahyun safely enter the school campus, you feel your phone buzz. It’s your boss calling to find out where you are. You’ve already informed work that you’re going to be about half an hour late so it’s an entirely unnecessary call, but you know he’s a little nosy, although not necessarily with bad intentions. In less than twenty minutes, you’ve reached office and got buried nose-deep into work, and soon, it’s three pm already.

When you arrive at Sebong Elementary School, you see a crowd of parents and their tiny tots gathered around what you think is the hall where the creche is going to be organised. You’re frantically looking for Dahyun in the crowd, when something comes and jumps at your knees. “Eomma!” A brightly-smiling Dahyun hugs your legs and you quickly bend down to pick her up. “Hi, hi, sorry I’m late, I got-” “It’s okay, Eomma.” She kisses you on the cheek before wrapping herself like a koala on your side. “How was your first day, baby?” “Good. Not 5 stars because there was so much crying-” “Oh dear, why?” “Because some of the other kids were missing home! I didn’t cry, because I was having fun talking to my teachers and making friends and colouring into my alphabet book and-” “Oh, darling you made friends? Such a brave baby,” you kiss her, as you both walk towards the hall and Dahyun continues her loud rambling all about her school day. And soon, along with the other twenty-odd parents and their children, you finally make it into the hall. There are two teachers standing up on one side, greeting the children. You can see one of them is a female, wearing a bright green banner pasted to her shirt with her name printed on it. The other teacher is a male, and he has his back towards you. You slowly make your way to the female teacher, who apparently Dahyun recognises from one of her classes. Once she’s greeted you two and assigned you a seat, you sit there quietly. Dahyun finds a few familiar faces in the crowds and you make small talk with their parents, while the others settle down.

“Hello everyone! Welcome to Sebong Creche! We’re so happy to have you all here with us.” The female teacher greets the crowd and everyone smiles and claps softly, as do you. Suddenly your phone is buzzing. It’s your boss again. Seems that the message that you’re taking the half day off hasn’t reached him, so you’re trying to type him a message when a voice surprises you.

No, it, in fact, makes your head spin and your heart stop.

“My name is Boo Seungkwan and this is Choi Ria! We’ll be taking care of the creche for the next six months! Pleased to meet you all.”

Fuck. Your phone slips and drops from your hand and Dahyun yelps in your lap in surprise. The phone makes a dreadfully loud sound, and in the silence of the room, everyone looks at you. You gulp and pick up your phone, trying to avoid drawing more attention, but you can’t help but notice one pair of eyes fixated on you, the single person you’d tried to avoid.

Seungkwan.

And god, he looks just the same as he did five years ago when you’d seen him last before leaving for Gwangju. His hair is now brown and his blue sweater brings out the fresh glow of his skin, and fuck you if every regret of your life isn’t flooding into your mind at this very second. The female teacher speaks up, thankfully taking the attention from you, but not Seungkwan. His eyes still linger on yours, a confused expression in his eyes, before looking away and breaking eye contact.

Oh god. Just when everything was going to go right.

Once the initial briefings are over, parents are offered the chance to leave and pick their children back again at the designated time, or sit through this first session as the kids get used to the creche atmosphere. Dahyun is right- too many kids are crying. And you would too, if you had been here. But Dahyun is lively, she’s confidently eating her banana and singing to herself as the teachers give everyone their snacks.

But to be fair, your eyes are only on Seungkwan. He’s moving around with a lithe familiarity, and children cling to him with every minor inconvenience. It’s in the way he’s talking to them, the way he’s approaching them, and in the way he’s handling them with so much care, that you already feel safe about leaving Dahyun here.

It’s not a new sensation, though. Feeling safe around him.

So when everyone leaves and Dahyun has finally packed her bag and run to the spot you’ve been sitting all the while, you pick her up and turn around to find Seungkwan standing near you. Up close, even with the tiredness setting into his features, you notice how manly and mature he looks- so different from the fresh-faced college boy you’d left behind in Seoul so many years ago.

“Hello Ms. Y/L/N. Thank you for trusting your… daughter with us.”

Oh. Formals. So it’s going to be like that, is it. Dahyun giggles when Seungkwan extends a hand to pat her hair, his hand awfully close to your own hand, so he quickly takes his hand away. “Seungkwanie Ssaem likes tangerines, he said! I like banana!” Dahyun giggles again, and you finally let out a breath and say, “I’m relieved to know that I’m leaving her in capable hands.” Because, truly, who would take care of Dahyun like Seungkwan would? Who would care for Dahyunie with hands so gentle, and a smile so kind, and eyes so soft like Seungkwan would? Seungkwan would sense, would know by instinct, what she would want. After all…

And then Seungkwan gives you a tight smile, much less kind than the one he gives to Dahyun, and waves you goodbye. You look away, unable to stare any longer, and make your way home with your little angel in your arms.

School works out excellently for Dahyun-ah. It turns out Seugnkwan is not always there. There are two teachers working out alternately. So you can only catch Seungkwan again two days later, when you arrive a tad bit late and find Dahyun sitting on Seungkwan’s lap and the both of them playing with a playdough.

“I didn’t know you teach in this school, Seungkwan.” You say when he comes to hand your child to you. He doesn’t meet your eyes, still distracted with scratching off the playdough from Dahyun’s fingers. “I wouldn’t have come here if I’d known,” you add softly and he looks up. It’s true, but it’s not something you necessarily regret.

“Does it matter?”

You keep the eye contact, and whisper, “It does.” Seungkwan turns away, clearly not intent on melting ice so quickly. “Seungkwan-ah, it’s not what you think it is!”

He turns back ever so slightly. “Has it ever been what I’ve thought it is?”

Right then, Dahyun pokes your shoulder and yawns, indicating how sleepy she is. It’s time to go home.

“Eomma!” Dahyun asks you as soon as you reach the creche. Today you’re on time, so it’s still crowded with other kids and their parents who’ve come to pick them up. You bend down and kiss Dahyun on her cheek. “Aww my baby.” She kisses you back, “Eomma I had a question!” You nod, fixing her shoes on her feet. “Why does my name start with Y/L/N and not Lee like Appa’s? All my friends at the creche have their names starting with their Appa’s family name.” Oh god. She’s about to find- she knows, she knows, she’s- she’s angry at you for hiding it-

“Dahyunie, I’m sorry I-”

“Huh? Why’re you saying sorry, Eomma?” She looks genuinely confused and you reconsider for a second. Was it an innocent question or-”

“You look like you’re about to cry.”

In your mess, you haven’t even noticed when the crowds have started to clear up and Seungkwan has crouched down next to you, holding a small cup of water. You stare at him, his big, beautiful, brown eyes, and you take the cup slowly.

Dahyun smiles at her teacher, and you remember how Seungkwan was so intent on not conversing with you the last time you tried to talk to him. So you’ve made up your mind. If he wants to keep his distance, you will too. He wasn’t in the plan, anyway. But then Seungkwan asks, “I want to know too. Why does she not have her father’s family name?” You realise then, just how close he is to you. Your conversation is happening in it’s own bubble, and the rest of the world won’t even be able to hear anything. The pink from Dahyun’s dress reflects on Seungkwan’s face, giving it a more bubblegum glow than usual. He keeps his eyes on yours, and you feel obligated to answer.

“That’s because… Appa isn’t family anymore. Ever since I left Gwangju.”

That’s the most sugar-coated way you can explain it to Dahyun, who seems to get it nevertheless. She nods and explains to Seungkwan- “Eomma and Appa don’t talk to each other anymore. That’s why we’re here in Seoul. It’s already been three months.” You know she’s starting to forget her father’s voice, she told you once in the warm moments before sleep. You’d cried in the bathroom that night, feeling terrible and only calming down once you reminded yourself that it was your only choice.

Seungkwan keeps looking at you. There’s something in his eyes, as his eyes go from your eyes, to your lips and then fall to your hand where he notices the absence of a wedding ring. Maybe it is curiosity, you wonder. But he also doesn’t ask anything else in front of Dahyun, and you’re thankful.

“Your daughter is lovely.”

You bite your lip to stop yourself from correcting him. “She is. Just turned four.” His eyes become curious again, but then he blinks and looks at Dahyun. “I was wondering if you’d enrolled her into any sports classes? I think she’d enjoy them, because she’s an active child.”

You nod, “I did consider. I didn’t know which classes were good in Seoul so I’d thought I’d wait another year before enrolling her to ensure she settles down well…”

“Oh. That’s your call, I guess. But Dahyun seems to be settling down well enough. If you want… distractions, say… then a sport activity would be great.”

“You’re right. I’ll check it out for sure. If you had any suggestions…”

“There’s a badminton coaching centre nearby. Perhaps you could check them out.”

“Thank you. I will. Thank you so much.” Seungkwan nods once at you, eyes lingering, before he waves sweetly at Dahyun and takes his leave.

That night, your subconscious plays tricks on you. It floods your dreams with memories, leaving you sweaty and squirmy at night, even as the air conditioner blasts cool air into the room. Memories you thought you’d forgotten. Memories of a certain boy running laps in the college volleyball field during practice and you sitting in the corner of the ground, finishing your homework. Memories of that boy running to you during the ten minute break, sipping an energy drink from his sipper and kissing you in the spot of shade you’ve been sitting in, his mouth tasting like the orange flavour of the drink. Memories of you giggling, because his sweat is rubbing on your arms and he’s so gross, but you still can’t stop yourself from hugging him close for the rest of the short break. Memories of him promising to convince Coach to let him go fast because he wants to walk you home because it’s so unsafe to walk alone in the evening. Memories of Seungkwan giving you a last peck on your lips before jogging back to the grounds, both his and your cheeks smudged with sunshine and affection, eyes warm with the power of love, and hearts pure without any worry of life.

“Hello?” Your voice is desperate as you wait for the person on the other side of the line to answer. This is the first time you’re calling the creche, as your boss had suddenly decided you need to finish a task before leaving, even if it’s raining cats and dogs outside, even if you have a daughter who’s waiting for you at a creche, even if it’ll be totally fine to finish the task at home and submit it later. Consequently, you got out of work late and the bus is stuck in a road full of traffic due to the terrible weather and you’re already half an hour late to Dahyun’s creche’s closing time.

“Yes, this is Sebong Creche. I’m speaking to?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, this is Dahyun’s mom-”

“Y/N?” It’s Seungkwan. He must be able to hear the way your voice is cracking with panic. It’s odd to introduce yourself as Dahyun’s mom to Seungkwan but that’s the way it is now.

“I’m so sorry, I really am-”

“Calm down, please. Tell me what’s happening.”

“I… I got stuck at work… and I’m running late. I’m sorry for all this inconvenience-”

“Y/N, shh. Stop apologising and talk to me. Where are you now?”

“Umm, I’m still at my office. Please leave her near a guard or someone, Seungkwan, and I can pick her up in a short while! I’m trying to get out of her as soon as-”

“I can take her to your home.”

“Oh but-”

“Dahyun’s told me that you live in the neighbourhood right next to the school. I can walk her till there. She has a spare key, yes? She can get in.”

“But it’s raining!”

“And we have raincoats.”

“I don’t want to impose on you, honestly. You could just leave her-”

“And let her be alone? Y/N, you’re out of your mind.”

“But I don’t want to trouble you, Seungkwan-ah.”

“Do you not trust me?” You pause. You do trust him. There is nobody else you would trust more with your daughter. Fuck it.

“I do trust you.”

“Then finish your work and come home safely. Dahyunie and I will head to your home.”

It’s about two hours later that you are able to reach home, only to find Seungkwan and Dahyun both giggling away at something he’s showing to her on his phone. They’re sitting at the island in the kitchen, and you notice the bottle of milkshake that had been stored in the fridge for Dahyun is now empty next to her. When you enter, they notice you and Dahyun immediately squeals out in joy. She gets off the high chair she was sitting in and comes running to you and you immediately pick her up in your arms. Something unfamiliar and beautiful blooms in your mind, but it’s immediately clouded down by a sadness which you don’t understand.

When Dahyun falls asleep after you feed her dinner which you whip up quickly, Seungkwan’s still sitting in your kitchen, eating the rice and chicken you’ve made.

“You still cook well, Y/N.”

You’re sitting across from him, and you pick up another piece of chicken and put it on his plate. “I’m glad you still like it.”

Oh god. He’s too close for confort. He’s right here, in your house, eating dinner you’ve made, after looking after your child for two whole hours while you were stuck at work.

Is this what life would’ve turned out to be had you not left him four years back?

It seems that he’s thinking the same thing too, because he asks you, “Did you get the job you were studying for?”

“Yeah. I did. I am an actuary now.”

He smiles, digging into his food again, scrunching up his face as he chews it all down.

“And you? I didn’t think you’d ever planned to become a teacher.”

“I didn’t. Someone told me something about volleyball being an unstable career. And I thought maybe I should switch.”

You sigh. He says it so normally, even when simply hearing it breaks your heart. You stop yourself from crying, because you know it’ll just be more pathetic. You won’t be able to explain to him why you’re crying. You won’t be able to explain why your heart aches everytime you see them together. You’ve spent many a night awake, wondering what would happen if your secret gets out. It’s so cruel that fate has landed you back into the proximity of the one man you had never imagined you would see again. And sometimes you hope a silver lining may emerge from this all, but it’s a faint hope. A daydream you don’t think you can afford to dream at this juncture of life.

“I did get her into badminton like you said. She’s a natural, the teacher said.” As expected. Seungkwan smiles proudly, and you nearly tear up. He doesn’t even know what he’s doing to you. “I hope you don’t stop her from playing even when she grows up.” He says quietly, picking up his plate and walking towards the sink. You shrink further into your seat.

“You know it wasn’t me.”

“No, but you might have the same views as your mother.”

“You should know I don’t. There’s a reason why Sehun Oppa and I are divorced now.”

He puts the plate in the sink and turns around to look at you. “I’m sorry to hear that.” You walk towards him and stand next to him as you start the tap to wash the dishes. “I’ll do that,” he offers, but you swat his hand away. “It’s my house. You’re my guest.” “It’s a quaint house. Very you.” “Is it? I didn’t have enough time to decorate it.” “I think it’s enough- sparse but not too empty. There is room for more, better now that she’s out of her clumsy phase.” “Hmm, what would you add?” “I don’t know, let me see.” He leans against the kitchen counter, the dim lights casting a beautiful shadow under his eyelashes which make his high cheekbones look so delicate. “I’d add a standing lamp in that corner, next to the couch. And perhaps a rug in front of the couch. Better for Dahyun than sitting on the cold wood floor. And I’d- Oh sorry. I’m saying too much.” “No, really. Your ideas are helpful. I haven’t thought much about all this but when you say it, I can picture it.” You look up and smile at him, his head tilted down as he looks at you intensely. “And perhaps a photo frame on the wall between the kitchen and the living space. Those new trendy collage ones. And, also a…”

Oh god. He’s making it so hard for you to not lean in and press a kiss to his cheek right now. He’s making it so hard for you to tell him everything- from the beginning, the entire truth.

“Do you want dessert? I have chocolate ice cream.” You know he can’t turn down ice cream. So you just laugh when you see his hesitant smile turn into a shy smile, and you ask him to sit at the couch. When you take out two scoops for each of you and take it to the couch, he shifts to the opposite end of the couch to make room for you.

“I don’t know if it’s my place to ask you, but have you told Dahyun about the… divorce?”

You sigh, “No. I haven’t. I’m just hoping that she’ll eventually forget about him quickly… she is young, after all.”

“Won’t he want to meet her?”

“No, we’ve completely cut ties. It was the only option- I had to move on totally. And he didn’t want to keep any link either.”

His eyebrows furrow, and you can see the questions in his eyes. You don’t want to say anything because you don’t want to appear like a damsel in distress, but you also don’t want to worry him.

“He wasn’t abusive or anything. We just realised that it was a marriage in futility. Divorce was a relief to both of us.”

Surprisingly, it doesn’t reduce the questions in his eyes. But he doesn’t ask anything, and you don’t elaborate. You’ve overshared enough.

“I just want to thank you again, Seungkwan-ah. For taking care of Dahyun and bringing her to my place. You know as a mother I am incredibly grateful.”

“Just because we’re exes doesn’t mean I won’t take care of your daughter, Y/N-ah,” he chuckles bitterly. “She’s like my own, and I would do it for anyone else. It is my job, and you know it is my nature.”

You do. It feels like whiplash to hear that he would indeed do the exact same thing for anyone else too, it feels like a gash from a knife slashed across your chest. You choke, but you muffle it as a laugh. “I know it is your nature. But I still want to thank you, nonetheless.”

He smiles. “Thanks for the ice cream. I’ll not be a bother to you anymore now.”

“You could never be a bother, Kwan-ah.” He doesn’t say anything and simply takes your leave. It’s a night that feels bittersweet to you. While it’s a nice feeling to be basked in Seungkwan’s warmth again, it feels cruel that you’ll never truly enjoy his affection, or even his friendship.

The ice does break after that day. Seungkwan gives you smiles when you go to pick up Dahyun, and that initial tenseness is definitely gone. But you don’t push it too much. You don’t want to push the status quo because you’re afraid it’ll all be gone again. You’re afraid you won’t be able to protect yourself and your happiness once again because of your own mistakes. You’ve done it once before, and it’s not ended pretty. You can’t afford to repeat errors.

“You must cut off ties with him right away, Y/N. Or else you’ll never see me or your father again.” Your mother’s voice booms through the room, muffling the sounds of your tears as you beg at her feet. Your father stands on the other side, looking outside the window, in that unfeeling, emotionless attitude you have always seen him wear.

“But why, Eomma! What harm has Seungkwan done to you or me or anyone at all?”

“That boy is a gold-digger! He’s after your money. He knows very well he’ll get nowhere with volleyball. A sport should remain a hobby, but I doubt a middle class doofus like him would ever have the brains to even make a decent livi-”

“Oh you’re so wrong, Eomma! How can you say such things about him when you don’t even know him?”

“That’s enough. I know enough, Y/N. And I know he is not the man you ought to be spending your life with. He will not make you happy.” Your mother stands up from her seat and walks away, carelessly pushing you aside on her way. She would trample you down and walk over you like an ant even if you’d laid down at her feet.

Honestly, what had you ever expected from your parents when you’d told them on the day of your graduation that you had a boyfriend? You had tried to explain how wonderful Seungkwan was, but they had turned a deaf ear and insisted you cut off all relations with him. With college over, you could do nothing to stop their plans- they took away your old phone, gave you a new contact number with which you could neither contact Seungkwan nor your friends, and didn’t allow you to leave the house. It was terrible- a true prison. So when your mother had offered you one chance to leave this prison- by marrying Sehun, you’d taken it. You’d taken it because you had known it would be drastically better than living cooped up in this mess forever- your heart aching, your mind helpless and your body tired.

Even after moving to Gwangju and starting a new life with Sehun didn’t take away the emptiness you felt in your soul. But you, like an utter coward, had resigned to this fate and accepted married life with Sehun with open arms, ready to forget about your cherished past, about Seungkwan and all that you had loved earlier. And Sehun charmed you so neatly- with gifts, affection and everything you wanted. It was so different from the manner in which Seungkwan had loved you- while he’d been tender, always asking you before doing anything, never discouraging and always supporting in the background, Sehun was more active, more aggressive in the way he made you feel special. He would often take you on these whirlwind date nights- where he would make love to you under the stars in entire picnic spots he would book for you, where you drove for miles away from the city and spent the weekend in tea plantations, where you didn’t even have to ask and he would drop the world at your feet. It was a new sort of heaven, a rush of adrenaline you had never experienced before. Not with your parents- who had never treated you with any affection. Not with Seungkwan- who’d been equally giving, but shy, passive and so soft in his love. And this rush of adrenaline blew you off your feet.

Until the news arrived.

One month into this new marriage, you’d found out, only by accident, that you were pregnant. Had been pregnant for an entire month. Sehun was, of course, overjoyed. You’d asked the doctor to not tell him the exact duration of your pregnancy, because of course, you knew that it wasn’t possible that the child growing inside you had been conceived with Sehun at least a week before your wedding.

That really broke you out of the haze your new marriage had trapped you in. Guilt and sadness tore into your newly patched up heart and reminded you of the boy you’d left behind at home, without even a message of where you were going. God knows how worried he may have been for you. Instead of considering him even once, you’d been swayed away by the pleasures of married life like a fool, that too, with a man you knew no more than a mere family friend, with a man whom, honestly, you did not love, with a man who had been planted in your life by your parents to distract you away from Seungkwan.

Oh god.

Your parents had won, and you’d lost.

And that broke you down. No matter how hard Sehun tried, he could not get your spirit back into the relationship- and you knew that this was the end of your marriage. After that, everything was just hollow clockwork, living with a stranger who slept in your bed, ate on the same dining table, and resided under the same roof as yours. You had become reckless. Under the added influence of hormones, you let yourself get aloof from everyone and everything, choosing to bury yourself in your self-pity and detaching yourself from society.

And then it was only Dahyun who made you smile again.

Little Dahyun who became the light of your life. Your reason to live again, your reason to find meaning and joy again. Because she was a part of you. And because she was a part of Seungkwan. So you’d named her accordingly. Your little bundle of sunshine.

Oh boy, did she look like her father. Of course, Sehun never found out. He was extremely caring towards Dahyun, ever a doting father, just as giving and aggressive about his love as he had been as a husband. It was a miracle that Dahyun was born slightly later than nine months- never causing any suspicion to rise in his mind at all. And it broke your heart a little bit, but then you remembered that Sehun was never on your side, really. For all you knew, perhaps he’d just been instructed by your parents to make you feel so loved that it would make you forget about Seungkwan. And he’d definitely succeeded. Almost.

Eventually, you became less of a wreck and more normal. Mostly because of Dahyun and how you wanted to be the best mother ever for her. But also because you realised that this was not worth giving up all your happiness for. So you went back to the world- socialising, finding a job, and doing everything you could to settle down into this life in your new home. But it never really became your home. At the end of the day, when you’d lie down in your bed with Dahyun cradled in your arms, you’d still have that empty feeling somewhere inside, wanting more from life. But obviously, you never dared to tell anyone the truth. You don’t have a way out, so it was best to fit in, until opportunity arose.

“Eomma, Seungkwan Ssaem said yes!” Dahyun’s shrill voice greets you when you arrive at the creche. “Yes to what, sweetie?” “To my birthday, of course!” She’s snugly sitting on Seungkwan’s shoulders, and it strikes you in full force, just how much she resembles her father. The large boba brown eyes, crinkled at the edges, the bangs slipping back to reveal an elegant forehead with the tiny nose and small, rosy lips, that highlight the high cheekbones and the full, plump cheeks you so adore. It’s a wonder no one has noticed it before. And you dearly hope it remains like that.

“Oh, you invited him, did you now?” You carefully ask, as Seungkwan lets Dahyun climb off his back and towards the shoe rack. “Her birthday is this Sunday. Of course, I won’t expect you to attend. She’s a child… she doesn’t know what she’s doing. She just wants to invite everyone she likes to her party, I guess.”

“It’s an honour to be liked by someone as fascinating as Dahyun-ah, Y/N. It’s hurtful that you don’t expect me to be at her party on her special invitation.” He smiles, that gentle, indulging smile of his which he uses whenever he’s teasing you, and you know it’s coming but you always get so riled up by his teasing.

“No! I didn’t mean it like that… oh god. I haven’t gotten better with words with time, have I?”

Seungkwan’s smile becomes wider.

“You haven’t changed at all.”

You remember the night of Dahyun’s third birthday party in Gwangju. Sehun had organised the most lavish party for her, complete with balloons of every colour and inviting nearly all her classmates at her school. Dahyun, ever the extrovert, had been so happy that night.

But that was the night everything changed.

Sehun takes you into a room, away from the crowds of the party, and you ask him, confused, “What’s going on?”

“You know I went to the hospital today with Dahyun to get her regular checkup from her paediatrician.”

“I do know, yes. What about it?”

“Guess what he said. He said, among other things, Dahyun was late-born child. She was born ten months after she was conceived, not nine months.”

You drop the glass you were holding in your hand, and you feel like you can’t breathe.

“Oppa, I can explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain. She isn’t mine, is she?”

You heave a breath as you try to calculate what his next step might be. You try to calculate whether offense or defense should be your correct strategy here, because truly you have nothing to lose, except your daughter. If Sehun kicks you out and makes a show in front of your parents, you’ll run away so far that they’ll never be able to track you.

But he doesn’t give you a chance to speak.

“We were never really married, were we?” His hand shakes as he comes to cup your cheek. “Let’s not stay together any longer. Let’s get divorced, hmm?”

You breathe out a sigh of relief. Out of every possible answer that he could’ve given, this is undoubtedly the best, and the safest, one.

“Yes, let’s do that, Sehun. Let’s not pretend we love each other anymore.”

Tonight, you’ve tried to give her a little bit of that splendour Sehun had given her while you both had been in Gwangju. You’ve baked her a cake with three types of chocolate, invited as many of her friends from school as she’d ever mentioned in her stories about school, and cooked tteokbokki and tangsuyuk, her favourite dishes, for the entire group at the party.

But then Seungkwan arrives.

Seeing him reminds you of his words at the creche where you last saw him, which had given you butterflies for the past few nights. He’d taken you back to the giggling mess you’d been at the freshman’s welcome party when Seungkwan had complimented your dress that you’d tailored for yourself and taken away your heart. Of course, it had taken many more months for you to gather the courage to even speak to him, and then more months for you both to officially begin dating, but you’d known on that night of the welcome party that Boo Seungkwan would always be your weakness.

And you were right. His words have lingered in your mind these last few days, and now that he’s arrived at Dahyun’s party with another teacher from the school who Dahyun had specially invited, wearing a black shirt and black trousers, his hair gelled up and a bit of lip balm on his lips, he’s still giving you butterflies.

“Thank you for coming really! Dahyun will be so overjoyed. She’s just in the other room with all the friends, they’re playing with her toys.”

“Oh it’s nothing at all. We just dropped by because we love Dahyun so much, and because hyung was so insistent,” the other teacher, Chan, says. “We haven’t met each other yet, have we?” “No, I’m afraid not. But I have heard so much about your dance classes from Dahyunie. She’s really big on sports and dancing, such an active child. A complete opposite from me, so it’s a little hard for me to understand.” You smile as you hand them both a piece of the birthday cake.

“Oh, she must’ve taken after her dad.” Chan says with a smile, unknowingly speaking the truth.

“You’re right. She has.”

“This tastes amazing, Y/N-ah.” Seungkwan quietly says as he eats his cake.

“Oh. I’m glad. I made it for her. Chocolate is her favourite flavour.”

“Would it be too much for ask for another slice?” Chan says with a giggle, and you cry out, “Of course not! I’m a bad host for not offering you anyway. I’m sorry, here you go.”

“So, you and hyung know each other from college, I heard.”

Seungkwan’s sharp breath can be heard and you’re instantly on the edge. “Yes. We… were friends.” We were in love. “Your hyung wanted to become a volleyball star at that time, Chan-ssi.” I stole his dream from him. “Oh really? I never knew you played it so seriously, hyung! Y/N-ssi, did you also play?” “Oh no. Like I said, I was never into sports.”

“No.” You almost miss Seungkwan’s voice. “Your parents never encouraged you to try out sports.” Chan looks at him puzzled, and he continues, “It’s important for parents to let children experiment with different things as a child to let them make their own choices. I hope you won’t make the same mistakes your parents made, Y/N-ah.”

You’re silent for a second before replying, “I’m here because I’m not going to make the same mistakes, Seungkwan. But it’s fair for you to not trust me to be a good mother.”

“I never said that,” his eyes soften. “I’ve always known you’d be the best mother, Y/N-ah. And I can see that in the way Dahyun’s been brought up.”

In that moment with electricity charged between your gazes, you’ve both forgotten about Chan sitting there right in between you two. There’s so much going unsaid, so much you can’t even explain, so much you don’t even want to admit to yourself.

“Chan Ssaem! Seungkwan Ssaem! You came!” Dahyun bursts in suddenly, and behind her are a flurry of other tiny kids from her class. They all cheer very loudly on seeing their teachers, quite shocked to see them outside class. Seungkwan gives her a gift- it’s a set of jigsaw puzzles, and Chan places a faux crown on her head as he gives her a book. The tensions dissolve, and you’re glad.

Chan leaves after a short while, but on your (and Dahyun’s) request, Seungkwan stays. He stays long enough to see all the kids leave one by one, and Dahyun becoming tired from all that playing and chattering. So after you’ve cleaned up the house from the mess of the party, grateful that your daughter enjoyed so much but also overstimulated from it all, you almost cry when you see Seungkwan sitting on the couch with Dahyun asleep in his lap, his head bent as he scrolls through his phone. You wonder, if in another life, in another world, in another universe, this would be your life and not a mirage you yearned for.

But what if you were brave? What if you could be ambitious and try to have it all in this life itself?

“Ice cream for dessert.” You hand the bowl to Seungkwan as you sit on the other side of the sofa. You softly take Dahyun and twist her into your lap, and she instantly wraps herself around you as she finds your warmth. You can’t help but kiss her forehead fondly, mirroring the expression Seungkwan wears right now.

“You’ve really brought her up so well. She’s got all your good genes.”

“And yours.”

Seungkwan’s hand stills mid-air when he was trying to scoop into the ice cream.

“What did you say?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never wondered. She is four years old, and she looks remarkably like you. The similarities are obvious.”

“But I… I didn’t dare to- no! You’re lying.” Seungkwan’s voice becomes a harsh whisper as he stares at you incredulously. You match his gaze, letting down your shield. “I’m not.” He continues to stare at you. Then he suddenly drops to his knees near your feet and says, “Y/N. Don’t be cruel to me anymore. You can’t joke about-” “I’m not joking, Seungkwan, why won’t you believe me?” “Because I don’t want to believe and become hopeful only to lose it all again!” You’re both nearly shouting but in loud whispers, trying to not wake up Dahyun, who’s surprisingly, still peacefully snoring away.

You stand up and pull Seungkwan to his feet. Then you drag him to the bedroom and gently close the door.

“You can test it. I’m not lying.” You softly grab his wrist, but he shivers. “You’re going to make me mad, Y/N. How is this possible? Why did you not tell me? Why did you leave me then?” He finally asks, his voice hoarse with emotion.

“Do you really not know?”

“No… I do. You sent that letter.”

“I didn’t. I found out years later about it. My mother sent it. You think I’d break up with you over a typed letter?”

“So? What was it for?”

“They didn’t let me out of the house. Wouldn’t let me meet you. Or anyone. The only way to get out of that hell was to marry Sehun.”

“I read about the wedding in the local newspaper.” He shakes his head bitterly. “But he was truly your match- in status, and in wealth.”

“You know I’ve never cared for anything like that.” You tug at his wrist, and he looks up at you.

“Is that why you left him? Because of Dahyun? But why so late then?”

“I was waiting to gather enough finances. Plus, he didn’t even suspect anything until six months ago. Perfectly timed, coincidentally, for my savings to come up to a good amount for me to confidently move out.”

He shakes his head vigorously, his eyes wide. “No, no… you’re not making sense. Can you start from the beginning?”

So you do. You tell him everything, from the beginning. By the end of it, he’s sitting on your bed, next to you, as you both stare at your feet. It feels so relieving and so freeing to tell him, someone apart from yourself the whole truth. It’s like a weight lifted off your chest and a headache that dissipates into thin air. You slouch back and look at Seungkwan, who’s still looking like he’s in shock.

After a solid ten minutes, he says, “Why didn’t you tell me before, Y/N?”

“I… I don’t know. I didn’t know how you’d react, I didn’t know if you’d accept us. I didn’t know what would happen if somehow the truth reached my parents. I was obsessed with protecting my daughter, first, you see.”

“I do see. But I… it still hurts that you didn’t trust me with it.”

“But it would be fair for you… back then, and even now, to not want us in your life. To remain strangers forever. I- I would understand. You have every right to be angry at me-”

“I’d think you would know me better than this, Y/N-ah. You would know that no matter how many times you leave me, if you ever want to come back I would open my arms wide and fall to your feet to let me love you again.”

A stray tear escapes your eyes. It’s a stab to your chest, and you extend a hand slowly to touch Seungkwan’s hands which lie in his lap. He doesn’t say a word, only opens his fingers to capture your hand in his and tightly seals the clasp. It’s so warm, his hands. The touch is remarkably familiar.

“What do you want, Seungkwan-ah? I’ve given it all up to you. I’ll take whatever you give me.”

He just looks up at you, his hand still holding on to yours. He doesn’t say a word, but then he gently leans in. You think he’s going to whisper something, but then he places a small kiss on your lips. It’s a peck, no more, but it sends your body in overdrive. Suddenly, you’re floating and drowning all at the same time. “She has your hair,” he says, his breath mingling into yours as his lips move just a few inches away from you, eyes still locked. You giggle. It’s true- Dahyun’s hair is just the same as yours, but the rest of her completely looks like him, you know. “I can’t… I can’t believe it that you’re here, Kwan-ah.” “Neither can I. When you arrived at the creche that day, I thought I was hallucinating. Even more when I saw your little girl sitting in your arms.” “Our little girl. We made her.” You can see the way Seungkwan’s entire face turns red. “Fuck, Y/N. How can you say it so easily?” “Because I’ve had four years to adjust to it. I’m sorry if I’ve bombed you with too much information too fast.” “No kidding. It felt like that climax scene from a romcom movie except this is real life, it was my life.” “Don’t be dramatic. Why did you kiss me?” “Because I missed you?” And it’s your turn to become red with embarrassment. Some part of you feels overjoyed, but still so guilty. So you move away from him, taking away from your hand from his grip and turning your entire body away.

“Y/N?”

“I’m sorry, Kwan-ah. I’ve hurt you so much already. You shouldn’t forgive me so easily.”

He softly grips your shoulders and turns you to face him. “I have been hurt by your actions, it’s true. You left me in an abyss from which only I know how I escaped. But it still didn’t feel like you. After all the love you gave me, how could you just run away from me by leaving that letter and marry someone else? I couldn’t believe that you could be so cruel, so deceiving. But everything around me told me I was wrong. Your marriage announcement, the way you didn’t call me or even contact me, or in fact, any of our college friends, everything was eventually proving to me that you were gone forever from my life.”

More tears flood down your cheeks. His grip tightens, and he continues. “But you’ve explained the truth to me, and now I can’t help but forgive you. Because I know I was right. All along, in my heart, I knew it and I was right. And now you’re here. I would be a fool to let you go again.”

“But-”

“There’s no buts. I’m not looking back.”

And he hugs you, his warmth engulfing your entire body as you cling to him. He smells sweet, like he did all those years ago, and you hold him close, so close that you can’t breathe but you can’t let go either.

“Baby? I can’t breathe.” Seungkwan whispers in your ears, and you shiver in the shock of hearing the pet name. “I’m sorry, I’ll-”

“No, don’t be sorry. Let’s get Dahyunie into bed, hmm? Do you sleep with her?”

“I do. This is our bedroom.”

“Then let’s get her to bed.”

“Will you stay?”

“Hmm?” Seungkwan looks at you, his eyes wet but fond, as he walks towards the door to pick up Dahyun where she’s sleeping on the couch.

“Stay with us?”

“Are you going to tell Dahyun?”

“What do you say?”

“It’s your call. You’re her mother.”

“And you’re her father,” you whisper as you walk towards him and sling your hands around his neck.

“God, don’t say it so casually. It hasn’t sunk in yet.”

You lean in and kiss him on his cheek. “I was thinking- maybe if she woke up and found her favourite Ssaem cuddling her, would she be pleasantly surprised?”

“What if she gets creeped out?”

“Oh god. I think Dahyun loves you enough to not be creeped out by it. At most, she’d think we’re dating now.”

“We’re not?”

“Are we?”

He kisses you softly on your cheek, an open-mouthed kiss that leaves your skin wet. “I love you Y/N. I never stopped loving you. Will you have me back again in your life?”

You hug him tightly again, your nerves tingling with joy. “Oh god, I love you too, Seungkwan-ah. I’ll love you better this time.”

“Shh, darling. Let’s get our little baby to sleep now, hmm?”

You look at him, and you see stars. It’s a miracle, nothing short of that. But he’s yours. Again.

“Shall we change her last name to Boo now?”

“Oh dear. Boo Dahyun?”

“It sounds so cute!”

“Now stop squealing or I can’t open the door otherwise she’ll wake up!”

“Sorry, I’ll be quiet, baby.”

He smiles widely and kisses you again, full on your mouth, “I promise, I’ll never let you go. Nor Dahyunie. I love you so much.”

a/n: read the stories of the other three boys here! would love to hear your feedback!

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