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#did i also make it because i like drawing him with a smile? yes
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Sleep nonnie again. Is it okay if I go by 🦊🌲 its easier.
Anyways I think it would be a funny scenario if you suggest to the op boys to keep their hands warm by putting them between your thighs. I know some boys would just get a heart attack if you suggest that and get a cute blush
say whAT NOW?? NONNIE HELLO AND WELCOME BACK!! (dm me so that we can be friends ur fic ideas are so out of pocket i love it); also, gonna add ace cause i see many ace thirsties out there ;)
let me warm you up ft. the monster trio//ace!
luffy:
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💗when he agreed to this, he didn't know just what kind of uncharted territory he was entering. he was simply not prepared. you had given him such a soft smile, taking his hands into yours as gingerly, "luff, are you cold?" he had nodded a mindless yes because you were crossing a terribly cold patch of the sea and his hands were freezing. but then held his hand a bit tighter and whispered, "i can warm them up for you. if you like?" he was too drunk on the idea to see the mischievous glint in your eyes and the way you spurred him on with your honey-like voice.
💗so now, he sat in front of you, eyes blown wide and lips trembling as his hands rested between your plush thighs. you had squeezed your thighs shut around his restless hands, claiming that it'll get him warm in little to no time. but god, this was hard (much like something else) and he was trying his best to keep his fingers still and not do anything hasty, like digging it into your soft flesh and relishing in the way your body molded to his touches. or by trailing his hand a bit upwards and seeing the way you react. 💗"luffy??" you called out and captain shook his head as he crawled out of that daze like state, "y-yeah?" "you okay?" you mumbled, voice far too gentle. you fucking minx. "you seem like you're losing your mind." good catch! because he was. luffy abruptly pulled his hands backwards lest he do something that truly made him lose his sanity. he scrambled off of your bed, heading out the door into the chilly deck in long, skitterish steps. "where ya going?" you called after him but he rushed out, yelling after himself, "JUST GONNA WARM UP WITH USSOP INSTEAD BYE" did ussop have better thighs than you? you may never know.
zoro:
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💚zoro was very stupid, very. he was not the smartest tool in the shed when it came to love or crushes or dating or cooking food or social cues or emotional intelligence or— i should stop before this turns into zoro slander [i promise i love him]. but now, the bounty hunter sat with his face flushed and hands tucked between your soft, malleable thighs. he was smarter than this, truly. he knew that when you suggested that he looked cold and you can warm him up, he was supposed to say "fuck no, get out." because having a crush on you was embarrassing enough on it's own. but you had given him such a gut-wrenching, pleading look. your eyes saddened and your lips fell into a pout and oh god, what was he, if not the man who would let you ruin him? 💚ever since he was a child, zoro had always known that he would die a noble swordman's death. he would die fighting, brave, courageous, unafraid. now, he was sure he'd die from the way you squirmed and pressed your thighs shut. "quit movin'" he grunted, looking away from you as your stared at him. but you tucked your arms against your chest and the soft swell of your tits fell forward towards him so deliciously. he must have lost focus and let his gaze travel against your body cause you coughed, drawing his attention back to your face, "quit starin'." he pulled his hands back, ears going red and heart faltering. he should really stop before he gave into the temptations and pinned you to the mattress to— his voice pitched up, "i-i'm going back to my room, bye." "zoro?!" you called after the swordsman as he ran out, "BUT THIS IS YOUR ROOM, WHERE ARE YOU GOING??" [spoiler: he went to chopper and crushed herbs to make medicine. he wanted to get rid of some of that tension but he failed. because he put the pressure too hard and the china dish in which he was crushing the leafy herbs broke, and now chopper was hitting him square in his head, talking about how important it was to be precise in medicine and how zoro will never make a good doctor. "stop hitting me— OW" "what KIND OF A DOCTOR ARE YOU?" "IM A SWORDSMAN!" "YEAH CAUSE YOU CANNOT BE A DOCTOR!"]
sanji:
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💙breath in, breathe out. breathe in, breathe out. breath in, breath out— "sanji?" you asked, a tinge of worry at his almost fainting figure, "are you okay?!" "my love, darling, sugar pie—" the man caught his tongue between his teeth, trying to stop his head from spinning. the floor seem to sway under him, the lights seemed too bright. was he flying or was it the blood rush?? "what did you just ask me?" you look down at the kitchen floor, mumbling with a bashful smile, "if your hands are cold...i can warm them up." his heart quickened as did his fingers. he chopped the bell pepper so hastily that you were sure you saw sparks flying. "and how would you do that?" "you can keep them between my thighs, if you like?" you looked up, "OH MY GOD SANJI YOUR NOSE—" 💙i hate to cut the story short but sanji 100% fainted and you had to catch him before he fell face-forward into the pot with boiling water on the stove. sorry, he gets no bitches :( but you did look after him on the bedside and let him eventually touch your thighs so... idk, a win is a win!!! ["so, is he like dead?" zoro had asked, uninterested, as you hauled the cook's figure outside the kitchen. you were dragging him to his room as the rest of the crew trailed you. they had heard your shriek and came spilling into the kitchen to see what the fuss was about. "did you give him a hug?" nami asked, amused. "hug's too much." ussop snickered, "she probably smiled at him." sanji whipped his head dangerously to glare at them, "i can hear you. and i will be poisoning your food." he looked back at you, "oh don't you worry, im still fainted." he closed his eyes, letting his forehead fall on your shoulder. you smiled to yourself, making a note to warm him up later]
ace:
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🧡truthfully, how do you ask a man made of literal fire if you can "warm him up"??? you must have not thought you plan through because you had stood in his room a bit tipsy, locked the door behind you and asked a boy [who was always shirtless cause he was so warm] that question. "huh?" ace's eyes widened in pleasant surprise. he stood up to walk towards you, "what is that about? you wanna warm me up?" "NO!" you bit your cheek when you realized the implications of your words, "i was joking, obviously." "awh, i do love when you humor me." he quipped, "it's kinda cute." "shut up." you glared at him but he gave you an earnest smile back, "if you're cold, you could have just told me." he set his finger ablaze, acting suave, "see, i can warm you up." "you wanna set me on fire?" you seethed. "no?!" "why did you light your fingers on fire?!" "YOU ASKED A MAN MADE OF FIRE IF YOU CAN WARM HIM UP? DONT ASK ME QUESTIONS?!" "i'm drunk" you mumbled. after a beat you looked down at the floor, "and... i'm kinda cold." portagas d. ace just smiled, shrugging in mock nonchalance, "we can cuddle, if you like. i've been told i'm a pretty great heater." you laughed, "hah, hotshot." ace gave you a wicked grin, "how drunk are you?" "not nearly enough." just saying, portagas d ace was better than just a "pretty great heater." he was a pretty great fu-
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a/n: i love writing stupid things so much. it makes me so happy because i'm a stupid little girl giggling and typing on her laptop when she should be doing work. tagging the ever lovelies: @bokutosbiceps (resident luffy enjoyer) and @help-i-lost-my-sock (resident ace enjoyer). if you wanna be added to the tag list, please let me know (//tell me your preferences and i'd tag you in those fics)!
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yan-lorkai · 1 day
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Hi hiii I'm the anon that requested the Charlie! Reader and I was wondering- would it be weird to ask for a Adam! Reader with yan! Idia, Leona, Malleus, and Vil? (If you it's too many feel free to remove anyone! ^^)
And can I be Beanie anon? If it's alright?
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.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ A/N: It's not weird at all. Adam has it's charms though he isn't one of my favorites character so this end up a little short. Also yes, you absolutely can be Beanie anon (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)
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The first human, the one who saw everything and did everything. An angel of the highest rank, despite all his arrogance, superb character and foul vocabulary, you find yourself trapped here, still doing things your way, ordering and mocking everyone. Some students hate you, others love you.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ For Vil, you are incorrigible. Someone he doesn't see why he loves as intensely as he does. Or maybe it's just because you two are so different that he feels curious at first and then interested. Still, there are many things you must work on to achieve your best, many things he will make you change, no matter what techniques he has to use. Doesn't care about your status but he does get curious about heaven. What does it look like? Did humans portray heaven right? As much as he is the one manipulating and twisting the threads to control you, Vil is also curious and someone as old and "wise" as you could use that to silence him.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ Idia... Idia finds you intimidating, out of his reach, a UR+ card he'll never get no matter how much he farms and pulls. He starts watching you soon after you appear in this world, waiting to see what he would have to deal with if your paths ever crossed. You are intriguing, strong and confident, everything he is not, everything he wanted to be. He is a little surprised when he finds out about your high status and angel powers, but he is confident that he can defeat you and lock you inside STYX if you ever have to fight.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ He doesn't care about your angel status, your powers, about heaven or the purge that takes place annually in hell. Leona doesn't care about any of that, preferring to think and plan how to shut you up when you go on and on about how you're the first human and everything you've ever seen and done. Due to your different powers, Leona tends to use more physical force against you, which usually ends in a draw since you both are strong. But you love the challenge, teasing and mocking him. "How bold of you, Kingscholar, trying to kidnap the first human!" How does it end? With a headache for Leona, so many people for him to obsess over and he fell in love with this troublesome angel.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ Malleus think you're funny and he likes to watch you interact with your peers. He is like a researcher watching its subject doing random things, being fascinated. He does not mind your status but offer to help with the purge that happens in hell if you want. He would also like to hear you talking about whatever you have seen and done as you are older than him. Talk about heaven, about the earth, about anything you like, he'll hear you with a smile on his face the whole time. Though if you both fight someday he straight up just use his unique magic to trap you inside a dream.
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chiricat · 2 years
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somehow i always end up making matching pfps
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waitingonher · 4 months
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because i love you — [hoo boys headcanons]
summary: your "thing" with the hoo boys!
author's note: in honor of the pjo series coming out today,,have this rlly rlly short draft from earlier this year! xoxo
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percy jackson — doodling on him
“give me your hand.”
“yes ma’am.”
minutes pass as you doodle gods know what onto percy’s hand. you always resort to this whenever the camp head counselor's meeting begins late—which seems to be every meeting—and giving percy "tattoos" certainly kills time. last meeting, you drew a can of beans and the time before that, was a bouquet of tulips. so honestly his guess being a pair of socks this time isn’t too far of a reach.
“okay, done,” you release his hand, a proud smile gracing your features, “cute right?”
he quirks a brow upon seeing the drawing, “is that…” percy turns his head to the side, gaining better perspective, “is that a flying fish?” 
“wow, you’re good,” you say, giving him a nod of approval, “although, last time you did say that my can of beans looked like a roll of toilet paper…” 
your boyfriend throws his hands in the air, “in my defense, you used a shitty pen so it was hard to tell.” 
“whatever.” 
jason grace — sewing your initials on his clothes
“hi love,” jason says, plopping down beside you on the couch. you give him a bright smile as he places a gentle kiss on your head, “almost done?” 
nodding proudly, you hold up his pair of jeans to show him your work: your initials sewn onto a corner of his back pocket, “yup, just finished actually! what do you think of the color? i think you bought the thread for me on our second date. but i totally forgot i had it until i went digging in my supply box.” 
a grin plasters itself on jason’s face as he nods his head in realization, “i knew the color seemed familiar. i remember wondering why a tiny spool of thread was so expensive. but it’s perfect, i love it,” he kisses your cheek, “all my friends are gonna be so jealous that they don’t have their girlfriends’ initials sewn onto their clothes.” 
you laugh as you imagine jason vehemently bragging about his jeans to all his friends, “tell them i’m charging $50 if they want me to do theirs,” you wink. 
“we’d make more than the stolls’ and their smuggling business if we did that,” he laughs, admiring your work once more. who knew that having your initials on his pants would have such an affect on him, “also, can you do my sweaters and my other jeans?"
you raise a brow, "i might have to start charging you at this point."
leo valdez — impromptu fashion shows
“wow!” you clap enthusiastically, “your outfit even puts paris fashion week outfits to shame!” yes, because a rainbow checkered crop top with a humongous green tutu and a pink boa paired with insanely skinny stilettos beats any and all high fashion runway outfits, “now, leo valdez, can you give us a few words about your new clothing line? and possibly a bit about what it’s like to be so amazingly talented?” you inquire, raising an invisible microphone to his mouth. 
leo oh-so humbly bows and rises with a proud grin, “thank you, thank you, but i honestly must give all credit towards my beautiful muse, y/n, she’s the inspiration behind my new line. and about being so talented, it really is such hard work to be this naturally gifted.”
“ooh, do tell about this ‘y/n.’ i’ve never heard of her but she does sound absolutely gorgeous!” you exclaim, keeping up with the act. 
your boyfriend nods firmly, “oh yes, she’s very, very, very beautiful,” adding a playful wink, “but i must say, she has the worst morning breath i’ve ever encountered!” 
your smile drops and you squint your eyes, “i’m going to choke you with that stupid ugly boa if you don’t take that back right now.” 
“uh ma’am,” leo backs up nervously, clutching his boa, “i’m going to have to call security if you threaten me again.” 
"i'm seriously going to kill you."
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gorejo · 6 months
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▸ BOSS'S FAVORITE - gojo satoru (forbes30!gojo au)
what can you say to the boss's favorite customer when he comes five minutes before closing? Kick him out? Not an option, especially when he tips so well and has a rather cheeky motive to stay and get your attention.
content: 1.1k words. unedited. this is before the breakup! so, college forbes30!gojo. reader is his girlfriend, she/her pronouns. fluff! got this from an anon ask!! so nonnie if you see this, I hope you enjoy! also this is the shortest fic I've made in a hot minute! so be proud of me yall )) :
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"you're here again," you monotonously asked, deadpanning with a raised brow, crossing your arms while you leaned to one side.
“Yes, as you can see since I’m seated here to get my order taken.” he smiled amused by your baffled expression.
“Sato—”
"your boss likes me," Satoru smugly responded while he sat back on his chair and crossed a leg over the other, his expensive shoes reflecting the cafe's dim lighting, "i came for him, so don't get mistaken," he teased with a childish smirk.
“And you know, that’s not a way to greet a valid customer. especially with my VIP status,” he huffed with the corner of his lip threatening into a smirk.
"And you know it's courtesy to not come into a store when we're just about to close," raising your wrist to look at your watch, “I don’t know like five minutes before closing.”
"well, don't blame me," he innocently batted his soft eyelashes, steadying his cheek on the palm of his hand, "I was waiting for my girlfriend outside and he so happened to kindly invite me in."
Gojo Satoru was your boss’s favorite. Not only did he effortlessly draw in customers, people curiously entering the cafe just for a closer look at him, only to end up buying a drink and some pastries to chill in the somber ambiance, but he also tipped generously — too generous to be even called a tip.
Those that walk by would do a double take when they would see the white haired man, tall in stature, dressed in a simple white shirt, and black slacks, and would reroute their steps hoping that maybe they were lucky to see him again.
Just by the frosty white of his hair, he gained attention — who wouldn’t stare at a handsome guy, covering his beautiful cerulean eyes with his notable sunglasses chilling on a seat looking through his phone, while he sipped on the most sugary drink the cafe had to offer.
The cafe was especially the busiest whenever he tagged the store on his socials. Flocks of his followers bombarded the store just to see a glimpse of their favorite college nepotism student, who happened to also be unapologetically haughty about his good looks.
And to his mercy, today, he graciously came just when the store was about to close — at least there won’t be a murderous amount of people trying to flock over. 
Because fuck capitalism.
Working on the weekends, and sacrificing your leisure to make money wasn't out of the norm. It was something most college students would do. Make a couple of bucks to comfortably buy that extra cup of coffee with oat milk, or go out with friends for some food or the club.
But for you, you had bills to pay. And it didn't help that your boyfriend was well outside your tax bracket.
He was kind and offered to pay for almost if not all the dates. But with exams rolling around, and your monthly rent just about due, you didn't have enough time to fit him into your schedule.
He never complained, simply worried that you were pushing yourself too harshly. Placing a kiss on your forehead as he tucked you into bed, or cradled you in his arms when he found you sleeping on the couch, he hoped that you could trust him — trust him enough with your burdens but he never pushed. Because he trusted you would come to him on your own time, when you were ready to invite him more into your heart.
So, he's found a rather cheeky way to squeeze some time to let you know he cares. It's just his way is not the most conventional one you could imagine...
“He likes you because you tip well,” you laughed while rolling your eyes.
Clearing his throat, "I know you like to talk to me because I am that handsome,” he opened up the menu and placed a finger to rub his chin while he “actively” tried to decide what to get, “but like I said, I do have a girlfriend and I would like to order please." He chuckled while looking up, giving you a boyish grin — the one that made your heart flutter despite how cheesy he was. 
At this point, it was disappointing how he still affected you. Flustered at his forwardness, you turned around, muttering as you felt a sudden heat radiate to your cheek. “Okay, then call someone when you’re ready.”
“No!” Immediately grabbing hold of your hand, a sharp screech on his chair scraping against the wooden floor echoing through the quiet cafe. He gave it a tight squeeze before he sat down, his puppy eyes pleading for you to wait, “I’m sorry… just, I- I’ll choose soon,” he mumbled, silently sitting back down.
"Okay, then… what can I get for you, Mr. Gojo." you sighed, shaking your head, looking at his fingers lightly playing with yours, “And didn’t you say you have a girlfriend? Not sure if she’ll like this if she saw, ” You smirked.
“eh it’s okay, she’ll understand,” He responded with a hum, “she loves me too much.” his thumb gently rubbed against your skin, the scales of the day’s stress flaking off the more his warm hands massaged yours. “but, give me a minute, gotta read through all the options.”
“You serious?... ” It was so easy to read through his actions — it was laughable, really. 
“Yes, this requires a lot of thinking,” quickly peeping at his watch latched on his vacant hand before humming exaggeratingly, “hmm…”
Tapping your foot, “Any minute now, that’ll be great, Sat —”
"Give me a couple of seconds please,” he stopped you, reading through each item, slow as a sloth — at most twenty items were on the menu, it shouldn’t even take an elementary student this long to read at his pace.
“Sure, whatever for the boss’s favorite, right?” you pursed your lips, your eyes forming faux crescent moons.  
“Oh, I got it!” he chirped, simultaneously closing the menu when you heard your boss off in the distance, shooing your other coworkers into the kitchen, “Let’s close up! Chop! Chop! The faster we finish, the faster we go home!” 
“I need to go help —” you tried heading to the kitchen, not wanting your coworkers to bear the burden of cleaning on their own.
“I'll get —" Gojo hummed, just about to say his order before you cut him off, his firm grip on your hand keeping you from leaving.
"the mochi with zunda, with freshly whipped cream and a side of strawberries to go with it, anything else?" you quickly retorted.
"Oh yes, maybe I can top it off…” elbows leaning against the table with his arms crossed, flashing you with his cheeky smile — the one that showed his teeth and the cute dimple he had on the bottom corner of his lip. 
“with a kiss, because you’re finally off the clock now, right?”
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author's note: he's so annoying but I love him to death so that's alright heh
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roosterforme · 20 days
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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 2 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: The collection of letters that Bradley received from the fourth grade class provides him with entertainment while deployed. He takes the time to answer their questions and send a package back to the United States via air mail. But he has your email address. He also has a bit of a crush and some questions himself.
Warnings: Fluff, language
Length: 4100 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
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A few days later, when Bradley was done with his training protocols for the day, he returned to his bunk with a different mission in mind. While he unzipped his flight suit, he eyed the box which was taking up most of his nightstand, and a smile found its way to his lips. He managed to find a notebook that nobody wanted along with a thick, padded envelope, and he was going to take the time to respond to the fourth graders who wrote to him. 
He'd spent hours poring over the letters, laughing at some of the questions from the kids and frequently picking up that one photo. He couldn't stop going back for more. For another look at you. Just one more look. Okay, this really was the last one. He had to toss it across the small room toward his duffel so he could focus on something other than your smile and the fact that he might have a tiny crush on a fourth grade teacher who knew absolutely nothing about him. Yet.
The note from Jayden was on the top, and Bradley opened it up and started to jot down a response.
Jayden,
It was so nice to hear from you and the rest of your class. To answer your pertinent questions, I am currently stationed on the USS Theodore Roosevelt. The most disgusting food in the mess hall is easily the cabbage rolls (which taste nothing like cabbage... or rolls). The best food in the mess hall is surprisingly the meatloaf. And yes, I would love to see a photo of your Cocker Spaniel. Please send one next time. I hope you're studying and doing your best in school.
Lt Bradley Bradshaw
The next note he decided to tackle was the one from Violet who had the tiniest handwriting he'd ever seen. The page had at least fifteen questions written out, but he decided to answer just a few for her. He had to squint as he skimmed through them again.
Violet,
You seem very inquisitive. That's a great quality to have, especially if you want to be a pilot someday. No, I did not attend the Naval Academy. I went to the University of Virginia. Yes, the Navy is way better than the Air Force. Yes, I can hold my breath underwater for three minutes. Yes, they actually made me do it. No, I don't think I could make it as a Navy SEAL. Yes, I have been staying hydrated and getting enough sun, thanks so much for asking. Keep studying hard, because you have a lot of school ahead of you before officer training.
Lt Bradley Bradshaw
Okay, so this was actually a lot of fun. Up next was a response to the note from Oliver, which made Bradley laugh every time he looked at it. 
Oliver,
Thank you so much for drawing the different Naval aircrafts for me. I hate to break it to you, but I actually do not fly the F-35 Lightning II. Yes, I know they look 'sickeningly cool'. Yes, I know it would be like 'slam dunking off the back of a dragon'. I guess I never knew I was jealous of those pilots until right now.... But I fly the equally cool if not quite as sickening looking F/A-18 Super Hornet. And yes, I would be more than happy to draw my own version of one for you. See below.
Lt. Bradley Bradshaw
The ten minutes he spent replicating his own aircraft to the best of his ability for Oliver churned out a pretty damn good result. He fished his phone out of the nightstand and took a picture to email to Nat when he had time, because she would find this whole thing amusing. Then he reached for the letters from Harrison, Nia and Jackie. He wrote his responses, and after a bit, he had a decent sized stack of letters all ready to go back to the fourth graders.
After a few more days, he worked his way through the entire class, and each kid would soon have a handwritten response on the way. He just needed to figure out what he wanted to say to you. The pretty teacher from the class photo that he now kept tucked in with his personal items. He worked on that one last, writing your full name at the top of the page and wishing you didn't go by the very non-specific Ms. which gave him zero clue as to whether or not you were married.
The package you sent was the nicest piece of deployment mail I have ever received. Thank you. I'm lucky it ended up in my hands. I'm impressed by how much all of your students have learned about aviation this year. I just hope I did them justice in regards to the questions they had for me.
I also hope you don't mind that I replied to each kid individually. They had some very amusing stories and questions, and I wanted to acknowledge all of them. But there was one question in particular that I was asked so many times, I thought I'd answer it here instead. My call sign is kind of a silly one, so it's okay if you all laugh. I go by Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, and my helmet is mostly red, yellow and black.
Your kids seem like a fun bunch, but I bet they keep you on your toes. Feel free to let them know they can write back to me again, but please include my name on the package this time. I don't know that I'd be lucky enough to have it fall into my hands again by chance. I'll just be here somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean for a few more months, ready to answer any questions you throw at me. Hope to hear back from you soon.
Yours Truly,
Lt Bradley Bradshaw
The following day, he packed everything up and dropped it off with the rest of the ship's outgoing mail. There was a rumor that a helicopter would be coming to pick it up in the next day or two, and he wanted to make sure it got back to California and those fourth graders as soon as possible. On his way back to his bunk, Bradley stopped by the lounge to see if there was an iPad free, hoping to send a quick email or two. He was in luck. He also happened to have your email address memorized.
--------------------------
You yawned at your desk and checked the time on your computer. Within the next ten minutes, your classroom would go from silent solitude to mass chaos, so you took a minute to clear out your email inbox. You had a few messages from some parents and a reminder about Spirit Week from the superintendent. And a random piece of junk mail that must have slipped through the spam filters. You didn't know anyone with a US Navy email address, and you didn't know anyone named Bradley Bradshaw.
As you closed your laptop, you gasped and tried to pry it back open again as quickly as you could. The Navy! The package you sent a few weeks ago! Maybe it was someone writing back to your class! Of course it could just be someone saying they were sorry that they didn't have time to engage with your students, but you figured even that was better than nothing. 
"Come on," you whispered, entering your credentials again before your inbox reappeared on your screen. The email was just a few lines long, but it was addressed to you by name. You were smiling immediately as you read it.
I just wanted to let you know that I got the mail you sent to a deployed Naval Aviator. There's a package on its way to your school for your class. It should arrive in about a week or two. Your fourth graders provided me with several hours of entertainment, and I hope they find my answers to their many (and amusing) questions useful. Thanks for the laughs, and thanks for the photos, too. Can't tell you how much I've been enjoying them. Hope to hear from all of you again.
Yours Truly,
Lt Bradley Bradshaw
You squealed and pumped your fists in the air. Someone actually got the box! And he actually responded! The other, older teachers thought you were just wasting your time when you deviated from the lesson plans a bit. Literally all of them said there was no way anyone would write back, even though you took the time to go through the proper channels at Top Gun on North Island. But now you could rub it in their faces, all thanks to Bradley Bradshaw who sounded like he'd had as much fun with this whole thing as your class had.
Then your day really started as Violet and Oliver burst into your classroom, calling out your name with excitement in their voices. The rest of your kids followed behind them, already asking about the plans for the day and what kind of adventure you'd be taking them on in each subject. 
When you clapped your hands twice and said, "Good morning," they all clapped and replied with their own greeting, and then they sat quietly with their gazes fixed on you. "Guess who I just got an email from!"
"The president!" 
"My grandma!"
"My Cocker Spaniel!"
"Oliver's grandma!"
You just shook your head and tried not to laugh as you said, "None of the above. But do you remember when we wrote and packed up those letters for a real aviator in the military to read?" Most of the kids nodded, so you added, "Well, he emailed us! And he sent us some mail that should arrive in about a week!"
And telling them that was a mistake. Because you didn't know a moment of peace after that. Every morning, you had kids rushing into the room to see if the promised piece of mail arrived yet. Every day you had to disappoint them, but you were finding yourself a little disappointed, too. You wanted to know what this Bradley Bradshaw guy sent back. 
You'd responded to his initial email letting him know you and the kids in your class were delighted to hear from him and that you would let him know when the mail he sent arrived at your school. He didn't respond, but you figured he was busy. Too busy to constantly muck about with your class while he was thousands of miles away on a deployment. 
And that was what left you standing at your desk with your mouth hanging open in awe when the padded envelope did finally arrive one morning. Because when you carefully cut it open, you found not just one letter to the class but individual handwritten notes, one for each child.
"Wow," you whispered, pulling the note with your name written on the top out of the stack. This man seemed humble and sweet, and his letter made you laugh in more than one spot as you read through it. Then you read it again. He sounded apologetic about responding to each individual kid, but you felt like your insides were melting. Who would do that? Who would take the time to give individual attention to a bunch of nine and ten year olds besides you? And you were technically getting paid to do it. 
Bradley Bradshaw seemed willing to continue to engage with your kids, and you weren't going to stop him. Because starting that morning, he became something of a legend to your class. A celebrity. A real lieutenant in the Navy replied to all of their silly questions, and their love of aviation just grew from there. You figured you were going to have to keep your lesson plans going a bit longer while their faces lit up as you walked around the room and handed them each their notes. You had taken the time to skim them beforehand, often laughing at his sense of humor which seemed to jump off the pages.
"Can we write back to him?" Jayden asked as everyone read their notes from Lieutenant Bradshaw. "I have more questions."
You smiled and nodded. "Yes, you may write back to him." Then you postponed your geology lesson until the next day and let them spend the next forty minutes writing some followup letters. You took some pictures of them diligently toiling away at their desks, excitement on their faces. Then you bit your lip and sat down at your own desk.
As you started to construct an email letting him know the envelope had arrived, your thoughts drifted to what he might be like. Humble and sweet, for sure. But he also made it a point to tell you that the box from your class was the best piece of mail he'd ever received while deployed. Maybe he was a little bit lonely. Maybe he was single. Maybe he was stationed on the west coast. Your thoughts started to get ahead of you, and it was hard to reel them in when you imagined him excited to see another email from you. Smiling when he was handed another box from your class during mail call.
Dear Lt Bradley Bradshaw,
We got the envelope from you today, and my kids are absolutely thrilled! I'm not sure if you know how hard it can be to wrangle eighteen fourth graders all at one time, but they are currently sitting quietly and working on new letters for you to read. Once again, please don't feel obligated to continue correspondence if you're too busy. I'm sure you have other people you could be writing to who want your attention as well. I just wanted you to know they are overjoyed that a Naval officer took the time to answer their questions about aviation.
I have attached some photos as proof that they are sitting still. Thanks again for making their day.
You signed your name at the bottom the way you always would from your work email account, and then you attached the photos. After a brief debate about adding the selfie you took with Violet where most of your face was visible, you decided to just go for it. Adding it to the mix wouldn't hurt anything. It wasn't like this semi mystery man would be up all night thinking about you. 
But you found that you were still thinking about him when you went home to your silent house and made dinner that evening. Maybe he was a little bit lonely, but maybe you were, too.
-------------------------
It was amazing how infrequently Bradley found himself thinking about Vanessa. He was busier now with his duties picking up a bit more as his deployment wore on, but even when he was tired and in his bunk at night, his thoughts seldom settled on her like he was afraid they might. He didn't miss her or her half-hearted emails, and he wasn't craving the connection of reunion sex with her. 
Instead, he was thinking about what a group of fourth graders were learning about this week and what their cute teacher was up to. It had been a few days since you emailed him, letting him know that his package was delivered to your school. You made it sound like the kids were excited that he sent it in the first place, and when he really thought about it, he supposed some officers would have just eaten the snacks and tossed the notes in the trash.
He didn't reply to the email yet, still thrown off a bit by the pictures you attached. Your classroom was vibrant, and the kids were absorbed as they worked on more notes for him to read whenever they happened to be delivered to the carrier. But the photo with you in it held his attention longer than it should have. The fact that you were working at a school that was just a handful of miles from his damn house made him feel warm.
But what would he do about it? What could he do about it? Nothing. He didn't want you to think he was creepy. He still knew essentially nothing else about you. The only thing he could do was keep it friendly if not professional. Unless of course you did something to push the boundaries of conversation into a more personal realm. God, if you did....he didn't think he would be able to handle it. 
The next day, when he was heading out on deck to talk to the mechanics who were doing regular maintenance on the aircrafts, he took his phone. "Hey, you mind if I take a few photos of some of the engine parts? I want to send them to a class of fourth graders who will think it's cool."
"Go ahead, Lieutenant," the head mechanic replied. Then he smiled and asked, "You dating a teacher?"
Well. Wouldn't that be something? Bradley would never run out of curious pen pals. He would always have some fourth graders to take interesting photos for and to send notes to. He'd always have a classroom to visit as soon as he got home from a deployment.
He couldn't help but picture you as the teacher.
"Nothing like that," he replied, his voice a little gravelly. "Just writing to some kids who are learning about aviation."
After dinner, when he had a chance to use an iPad in the lounge, he did his best to put together a response to your email that would at least hint at the curiosity he felt. 
If all it takes is mail from three thousand miles away to get your class to sit quietly, then I should probably be writing to you every day. But I'm sure you're a great teacher. That's a given considering how much your students learned and shared with me. And I can assure you that I'm more than happy to take the time to write to your class. And you. Please don't think I feel obligated, because I do not. I want to.
I have attached a few pictures of some F/A-18 engine components as well as some of my cockpit controls. Each photo is labeled, but please let me know if you have any questions.
It was nice hearing from you.
Yours Truly,
Lt Bradley Bradshaw 
As soon as he hit send, he wanted to kick himself. Should he have included a photo of his face like you had twice now? Or did he already sound too desperate to hear from you and your class again?
"Shit," he muttered, looking around the lounge as if there was going to be someone here proficient in the art of getting to know a fourth grade teacher without sounding stupid. But it was too late now. All he could do was wait for the next mail call or hope you decided to write back to his ramblings by the next time he checked his email. 
-----------------------------
You were going to have to scrape your jaw off the floor. You had no idea what this man's face even looked like, but his hands were... something else. And his thighs... well, they were pretty great, too. It must have been too long since you got laid, because you were sitting at your desk in your classroom staring at the set of photos in your inbox, currently unable to look away from his right hand. It was wrapped around the throttle of his aircraft. It was elegant with attractive veins and rough calluses. You were sure that you were supposed to be focusing on the cockpit controls, but all you could see was that hand and his thick, muscular thighs below.
The next photo was no better for you. He was holding up his helmet with his call sign Rooster emblazoned across the front, and you were able to see his left ring finger. There was no wedding band. There was no evidence of an outline where a wedding band would belong. There was just his big, strong hand.
You whimpered softly while your students worked on their math tests. You couldn't help it as you took one last look before logging out of your email account. And now you needed to know if his face matched the very attractive image you had in your mind. 
When Jayden called your name, you rocketed to your feet like you'd been caught red handed. "Yes?" you squeaked, your voice sounding higher pitched than usual.
"I'm done with my test. May I have the hall pass and use the restroom?"
You handed it to him as the rest of your class finished working through the math problems. A few minutes later, when you collected the papers from them, Violet asked, "When is Lieutenant Bradshaw going to write back to us?"
It had only been a few days since you mailed him the second box of notes and some more snacks, but it made you happy that they were all so invested in learning more from him. 
"It will probably be a few weeks before we get anything in the mail. However... he did email me some pictures of engine and cockpit parts from the aircraft carrier for me to share with you guys." When you looked around the room, the kids were on the edges of their seats, excited expressions on their faces. With a laugh you added, "I was going to wait until tomorrow and use the projector to show them all to you, but if you're very well behaved for the rest of the afternoon, maybe I could pull them up on my computer for you to see them today."
Not two hours later, you were just as excited as the kids were to look at the photos... again. As they crowded around your desk, you opened up the first one of the cockpit to a barrage of questions. 
"Is that really his jet?"
"Is that the throttle?"
"What do all the buttons do?"
"Was this right before he flew it?"
Once again you were distracted, but you managed to click over to the next photo, and the kids gasped in delight. 
"His helmet is so cool!"
"It says Rooster!"
"That's his call sign!"
"Red is my favorite color!"
You just smiled softly and laughed. "Should we go ahead and start working on another list of questions for him?" you asked as you slowly scrolled through the rest of the pictures. "He said we can write back to him as much as we want to." When everyone cheered, you handed Oliver a marker and pointed to the board at the front of the classroom. "Let's start making a list."
You listened to all of your students call out questions for Bradley while Oliver wrote them down. Then Violet asked, "Can he send us a picture of his whole jet? From the outside of it?"
You cleared your throat and added, "Maybe he could get someone else to take the picture so he could stand in front of it. For size comparison."
Violet nodded, but you knew you were a fraud. Sure, it would be great for the kids to understand just how massive the F/A-18s were compared to an actual person, but you were the one who wanted to see all of Bradley. You were itching for it now. 
Later that night, you drank most of a bottle of wine and did something you promised yourself you'd never do. You logged into your work email account after nine o'clock. You skipped over the handful of unread emails from parents and clicked on the icon to compose a new message. With your liquid courage goading you on, you typed up a response to Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw and hit send before you could think twice.
Thank you for the photos. They were very enlightening. We especially liked the ones where you were showing off your cockpit. Or I did, anyway. The kids liked all of them and started on another list of questions for you. Good luck getting rid of us now. 
We were wondering if you could have someone take a picture of you standing in front of your jet. For size comparison purposes. And also because my students would like to know what you look like. Hearing from you makes our day even better.
You couldn't believe how forward you were being with this man who you'd never even met in person, but you fell asleep thinking about his hands and what they might be capable of.
-------------------------
This Bradley makes me swoon. I've never wanted to be a fourth grade teacher so badly in my life. There is something that's starting to blossom between them even though they haven't even met in person. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 3
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906 notes · View notes
mirohlayo · 10 days
Note
Hi, can I request a Reader x F1 grid story where reader breaks her arm/leg and she can't race because of it, but she still attends the races to watch with her team? And then the drivers start to draw on her cast as a feel better soon gesture.
Maybe she also posts it on her social media throughout the day to show fans the progress of the drawings.
Thank you so much xxx
P.S. Love you writing
Hi !! So as you requested I used the F1 grid, but only the drivers who I write for originally (+ Albon). I also wrote reader as a F1 Academy driver to make it more easy to write and more realistic. It's the first time I write something like this, so hope you'll enjoy it girll !! ᥫ᭡
DRAWINGS ON MY BROKEN ARM
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( because maybe you just need some love from your handsome friends. )
warning : none just a broken arm, a cast and fluff
note : I really struggled a lot to find some good cast pictures, these ones are a bit awful lmaoo sorry
word count : 1.3k
It was not planned. This was absolutely not what was planned.
As you get out of the car with difficulty, greeting pleasantly the driver who kindly accompanied you to the Suzuka circuit, you try as best you can not to move your arm too much. If you make unnecessary efforts you will tire yourself out for nothing.
You absolutely did not choose to break your arm. It was due to a mistake, a very big mistake indeed. While you were testing your car during free practice, during a session where the falling rain flooded the track with water, your tires did not grip effectively and you found yourself thrown against the wall, in a fairly serious crash. surprising.
The teams immediately helped you, and while everyone was asking you if you were okay after this crash, that's when you realized a big problem: yes, you were okay, but not your arm. . And after a short stay in the hospital, you now find yourself - or rather your arm - stuck in an amazing cast.
You obviously cannot participate in the next F1 Academy races. But you can, however, do something else that is much more energetic and beneficial for you in the state you are in: attend the F1 race which is currently taking place in Japan.
After all, being locked up for almost a week in your apartment was totally boring and you really need a little fresh air, and above all the passion for this sport to stimulate. Being a very close friend of certain drivers, you did not hesitate for a single second to accept your team's proposal when they offered to accompany you to the Suzuka GP.
Now there you are in the paddock, trying to slip through the others to get to the Mercedes garage. There where you find Georges, who smiles with all his teeth at the sight of you.
“Hello you” He walks over to you and starts to wrap his arms around you in order to give you a hug, but a reflex immediately makes him step back. “Oh sorry, I forgot you have a... little problem” He struggles to finish his sentence, grimacing at the sight of your wrapped arm in a cast.
You giggle before patting his shoulder. "Are you better since your crash? I saw that a few days ago and I was really scared for you." His eyes scan you, he is worried about you. You smile softly at him to reassure him. "Don't worry. I may have a broken arm but that won't stop me from supporting you in this race."
“Oh, Y/n!” Lewis' voice calls out to you, and you turn to face him, Charles next to him. They both smile at you, taking care not to touch your arm so as not to hurt you further. "I'm so sorry about your crash. You must definitely be disappointed." Lewis affectionately caresses your shoulder, a show of affection and support.
"At least you're alive, that's the main thing. It's good to see you here, the other guys miss you you know." Charles explains the situation, telling you how worried and scared the pilots were following your accident. You also received several messages from them on instagram, in which they supported you and showered you with kind words.
“Y/NNN!!” Daniel screams your name from afar, a big smile on his face as he almost throws himself at you. “Hey watch out for his arm.” Lewis alerts Daniel so he doesn't hurt you, but he doesn't seem to hear anything and comes to take you in his arms. “Daniel, I’ll go back to the hospital if you continue.” He finally pulls away, carefully observing your cast.
“Maybe I should call the others, they’ll be happy to see you.” Charles volunteers to bring the other drivers back, while you chat with your friends. They are all very respectful and very attentive, they are sincerely empathetic towards you.
In the distance, you finally see the rest of the boys arriving.
“Here’s my girl.” Lando comes to wrap his arm around your shoulders, a smirk present on his lips. You push him away, grimacing to tease him, and he holds his heart as if you had just broken it into a thousand pieces. "I know I shouldn't have sent you that 'get well soon' with a red heart on Instagram, hypocrite." He pretends to roll his eyes but his smile betrays him.
"Indeed, you shouldn't have. Your teammate was the first to message me and that's why he's my favorite boy today." Oscar tssk while crossing his arms, however amused by the situation. Max, Carlos and Alex are discreetly added to the group that has just formed around you.
“Even with a broken arm, you can do a lot of things you know.” Max told you in a confident manner. “Like Lance last year.” Carlos chuckled at Lando, both nodding at the same time because they thought the same thing. You can't help but feel alive again.
It's true that the last few days were difficult. Alone, injured and locked in your apartment, you no longer had much of a taste for life. You kept asking yourself questions about your future, about the rest of the races of the year. You were also worried. But you knew that coming here, being surrounded by your closest friends again, laughing and talking with them, was all you needed. You can only be grateful to them.
“I have an idea guys!” Alex then exclaims, drawing attention to himself. “Since Y/n is injured, and her cast is… white and bland, we should draw to give her courage.” He said while pointing at your cast. The other drivers nod, agreeing with the Williams driver's idea.
“I will have the honor of drawing first!” Then begins George, who is already ready to fight to have his drawing on your cast. "She wants a drawing of her favorite driver which is me. Too bad for you, George." Lando, and his sassy attitude, is ahead of the Mercedes driver. “I bet I draw better than all of you so let me do it.” Carlos steps forward to assert himself.
They seem to be on the verge of fighting over who will have the honor of drawing best, or who will draw first. You laugh while calming the situation. "Look, you're all going to be able to draw. We just need some markers." You remark, as you wave to your team in the distance to help you.
It doesn't take long before they arrive with a small pencil case filled with different colored markers. You then sit on a chair in a corner of the garage, the nine drivers around you. Oscar is the first to draw on your cast, while the others are still fighting over who will go second.
In the end, after a good session of laughter and slightly failed drawings, the result is there. Your plaster is decorated with designs, each one as extravagant as the last, but that doesn't matter, because their intention comes from the heart. This sincere gesture will certainly give you courage for the rest of your adventure, you are sure of it.
And as they all give you one last smile, one last hug, they leave to prepare for the approaching race. You end up joining your team further in the VIP stands, ready for the start of the race. “What a beautiful cast” Your engineer nods at the magnificent designs on your arm, and you smile. “Beautiful may not be the word, but it’s very precious to me for sure.”
And as you share a laugh, the red lights go out, as the din of cars echoes throughout the circuit. For a moment, everything seems wonderful. It's crazy how a simple little attention like drawings can brighten up your day a little more. And can also brighten up the day of others, like those of your fans for example...
yourusername just posted !
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liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and others...
yourusername: maybe no more arm but at least I have my handsome boyys ❤️
view comments
danielricciardo: if anyone wonders who drew the beautiful star, it’s me ✌️😁
⤷ landonorris: you wrote on her arm instead of her cast you dickhead
⤷ danielricciardo: I was feeling different 😜
user: Alex just writing his name makes absolutely sense
user: no cuz they're literally the SWEETEST ahww
⤷ yourusername: only oscar cuz he's the one who drew the best
⤷ danielricciardo: but you said it was me earlier
⤷ yourusername: i lied plus you literally drew on my SKIN instead of my cast 😠
landonorris: my girl not giving any credits to my amazing beautiful drawing 💔
⤷ yourusername: yeah cuz you have no talent, keep it up it's awful mate 🔥🔥
⤷ landonorris: hypocrite I hate you
charles_leclerc: take care of yourself y/n ❤️
georgerussell63: I slayed, my drawing is lit
⤷ yourusername: no 🙄🥱
user: i need friends as precious as them, love their friendship !!
984 notes · View notes
ssahotchnerr · 4 months
Note
could we maybe get some momfriend!reader and jack dynamics, maybe from before her and Aaron were even together?
something special
<333 cw; fem!bau!reader, very tiny blood description (& yes i know you're supposed to wash a paper cut right away but for the sake of the setting and aaron being cute i didn't include that step 😭), mentions of haley, mutual pining
"whatcha drawing?" you asked mid-writing, your pen flying across your paper but still finding the opportunity to peek over.
"spiderman and superman." jack replied happily, switching from a red to a blue crayon. "see, they're teaming up to fight the bad guy because he keeps doin' crimes."
about an hour or so ago, jessica had dropped off jack at the bau. long story short; she was called into work urgently and with aaron in a meeting, you were quick to volunteer yourself to keep him company. rather than cramming into the small space of your desk, and jack potentially hearing conversations or details not fit for a six year old, you've made home in the roundtable room. you could work, jack could color.
you had also fired off a quick text to aaron; letting him know jack was with you, a brief synopsis of the situation and where he could find you both once his meeting concluded. it had, and he was about to join, but found himself pausing outside the door, listening to your easy, lighthearted conversation for just a moment.
when it came to you and jack, there was just something about it. something extraordinarily special.
"i see," you nodded along to jack's words, an encouraging smile on your face. "that's really good. since when did you become an artist?"
"since always." jack grinned proudly.
"then you have to promise you'll make me a drawing soon. my desk is pretty boring, i need something to brighten it up." you held out your pinky, eyebrows raised. "promise?"
"i promise." jack linked his pinky with yours, and turned back to his masterpiece with renewed vigor.
a sense of warmth filled aaron's chest, the ends of his lips turning upwards into a faint smile at the natural bond you and jack had developed so quickly, over the course of a few weeks. deciding it was as good a time as ever to join, aaron reached out to fully open the door when a wince-gasp came from jack, stopping him.
"oh no," your head turned. "paper cut?"
jack nodded meekly, grimacing as his gaze shifted to you. his big, sweet eyes were tearful, "it stings."
"can i see?" he offered his hand limply, hanging downwards at the wrist. you cradled his small hand in yours; it was just a tiny cut - no more than a few centimeters, a faint line of red gradually seeping to the surface.
"hm, well," you huffed a breath, turning his hand face-up face-down - vaguely exaggerating the examination. you got up to retrieve the first-aid kit stationed in the room, aaron sidestepping a bit to keep out of potential view. "i think luck was on your side today, i don't think we'll have to amputate this time." you spoke with an airy tone, quick to bring light to the situation. it worked, jack stifling a laugh as you retook your seat. "nothing a bandaid can't fix."
there was the click of kit opening, a slight shuffle of what sounded like paper.
"and don't tell anyone i told you this," you applied a bit of ointment onto the bandaid before wrapping it onto his finger - not too tight or too loose, all to avoid cutting off circulation and to let the wound breathe. "we gotta keep extra band aids around because your dad always seems to get one himself."
"dad gets paper cuts? really?" jack's eyes widened in surprise.
just as his son, a breathless chuckle exited aaron; that wasn't necessarily true, but your intentions were clear: cheering jack up.
in addition, the last time he had heard someone talking to or interacting with jack like this - empathetically, attentively, motherly, was, well... haley.
it touched the usually unattended part of his heart that had been vastly empty since the divorce. since that one, horrible day. while the emptiness still lingered, you had made a pull at it. for a moment, you had healed it, even.
again, there was just something special about you. and again, the only way aaron could describe it was extraordinary.
"really." you nodded convincingly, tossing the little plastic scraps into the nearby trash bin, giving top of jack's hand a consoling pat. "it happens all the time."
aaron mentally rolled his eyes at that, a smile itching at his lips.
jack picked up his brown crayon, pain forgotten, eager to get back to his drawing. "i'm gonna draw daddy and put a bandaid on him. he's a superhero too, y'know?"
"yeah," your smile was rather bashful, your tone of voice so admirable it caused a blush to rise in aaron's cheek. "i know."
2K notes · View notes
sluttywonwoo · 8 months
Text
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collision || h.js
pairing: virgin!fratboy!han jisung x best friend!reader
summary: jisung's fraternity brothers decide to pool their money and surprise him with a stripper for his birthday! nice gesture and all, but that stripper just so happens to be his best friend...
warnings: swearing, a little bit of mention of stigma towards sex workers at the end, smut (18+ ; minors dni)
additional warnings: lap dancing, dry humping
word count: 3k
Jisung’s blood ran cold as he stared at you from the opposite side of the room. A similar look of shock graced your features for a moment but it was quickly replaced by a smile, a fake one if Jisung had ever seen one. 
To be fair he had imagined this exact scenario- you in lingerie, standing in the middle of his living room- hundreds of times. But in those fantasies, the room wasn’t also full of a dozen or so of his friends.
When Jisung’s fraternity brothers told him they had a “surprise” for his birthday he knew it couldn’t be anything good but he certainly hadn’t been expecting his best friend to be the hired... entertainment for the party he hadn’t even wanted. 
“Should we leave them alone?” Minho, one of the older boys, teases. 
“We don’t get to watch?” Jeongin whines. 
“Nah, Hannie’s too shy for that.”
“That, and we only bought a private dance because it was the cheapest option,” Chris mutters under his breath, hopefully not loud enough for you to hear. 
“Let’s go into the other room, then,” Hyunjin says, finally drawing all of the attention away from you. “The others are waiting for us and we haven’t finished mixing all the drinks yet. The birthday boy can join us later.”
There’s some grumbling as the boys shuffle out of the room but they do make their exit, leaving you alone with Jisung. 
You’re the first to break the silence. “Happy birthday?” you offer with an awkward chuckle. 
“This is why you couldn’t come tonight?” 
“I was going to join later!” you correct him. “But yes, this is why I was going to be late.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I told you I had to work! I didn’t know it was you!”
“They didn’t... give you my name or anything?” Jisung realizes as he’s speaking that he doesn’t really know how your client intake works. Is there a form they fill out? Or do they just Venmo you and give you an address? Surely not, right? That would be dangerous. There had to be more to it than that. 
“They called you ‘Late Bloomer’,” you mutter, staring at the floor. “Said I’d know you when I saw you.”
Jisung’s cheeks burned and he scoffs. “Ironic. Yeah, that’s what the guys call me because they know, um, about...”
“You don’t have to say it!” you blurt. “I already know. That’s a really mean nickname.”
“All the pledges get nicknames like that,” he sighs. “Sometimes they don’t wear off after initiation.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
You had taken a couple of steps closer to where he was sitting while you talked but you were still several feet apart. 
“Uh, well did you still want me to-”
“No!” Jisung shouts, cringing when he hears himself. “No, oh my god. You don’t have to do that.”
“I mean, it’s what I’m getting paid to do,” you point out. “Do you want your brothers’ money to go to waste?”
“I don’t give a fuck about their money.”
“So you don’t want me to?”
He’s sweating now. He feels it on his brow. “No, no. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
And I don’t want to cum my pants the minute you sit on my lap. 
You laugh. “Nothing can be more uncomfortable than what just happened in front of your, uh, friends.”
You had a point. “You don’t think it’ll make things... weird?” Jisung asks. 
You shrug. “Things are already weird, aren’t they? But if you don’t want me to, I'll go get dressed and we can join the rest of them at the party.”
“It’s not that I don’t want you to!” Jisung clarifies. “I mean, I’ve always been curious about... how your sessions go, like what happens and stuff, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to or that I want you to if that makes sense. Like I don’t want you to think I’m a creep-”
“Jisung.”
“Huh?”
“Instead of a real dance, why don’t I just demonstrate for you? Show you what I do, like you said?”
That didn’t sound too dangerous. 
“O-ok. You don’t have to do it on me, though. You can just, like, use a chair?”
You give him a small smile and nod. “Sure.”
There are lots of chairs to choose from but you pick the closest and drag it in front of where Jisung is sitting. You spin it so that the back is facing him and then run to get something from the bag that you’d dropped by the door when you came in. 
Jisung tries not to look at your ass as you bend down and rifle through the tote, training his eyes on the ceiling instead. He’d already been struggling not to get hard this whole time and it was about to get a whole lot harder, metaphorically and literally. 
You come back with a speaker and set it up on the floor under the chair. 
“Usually I put on some music,” you explain. “I’ll sit on the guy’s lap and ask him what he likes to listen to.” You sit sideways on the chair and cross your legs, pretending like there’s a man underneath you. “Whatever he says doesn’t matter to me, though. I just pick whatever I want to dance to and pretend his answer influenced my decision so he feels like he gets to have a say in the matter. Men like to feel special like that.”
Jisung nods along. You look up to check that he’s following before moving on. 
“Then I’ll stand back up, like this, and start dancing. Most girls dance in front of them first, to make them want it more. I used to get really self-conscious about that part because it feels silly to me but it really pays off in the end.”
Jisung gulps and nods again. He watches you sink to your knees and arch backward, spreading your thighs wider as your back touches the floor. He had no idea you were so flexible, no idea you could move like that, though he supposes he should have assumed considering you literally do this for a living. 
“And then right before I get back on his lap I’ll take off my top. Usually, it’s like a bra or something but sometimes I’m wearing a bodysuit and I’ll just pull it down.”
He doesn’t expect you to actually do it but you do. You reach behind yourself and pull on the ribbon holding the corset you were wearing together until it unravels and you can take it off. 
Jisung immediately averts his eyes, going as far as shielding his vision with a hand.
“Oh my god!” 
He hears you laughing. “They’re just boobs.”
Yeah, your boobs. 
“I thought you wanted me to show you how I usually do it,” you chide. 
Jisung hesitantly turns his head to face you again. He stares you right in the eyes, pointedly ignoring everything below your neck. “I didn’t think you would actually, um, strip.”
Your teasing smile falters. “Do you want me to put it back on? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“No! You don’t have to. I’m not uncomfortable.” You look like you don’t believe him so he adds, “I just wanted to be respectful and stuff, you know?”
You roll your eyes. “You’re sweet. I’m honestly surprised you haven’t seen me topless before. We’ve known each other for so long.”
Jisung is in so much pain. “Haha, yeah me too.”
You approach the chair and straddle it like you would if someone was actually sitting there. Since there isn’t, you fold your arms on the back of it and rest your chin on your wrists. 
“I always lay some ground rules before I start, even if they’re a regular.”
“Ground rules?” Jisung asks. 
You nod. “They’re not allowed to touch me whatsoever. I’ll touch them unless they request otherwise, but only on the face and the shoulders, sometimes the chest. I’m not going to grope them or anything like that, even though I am grinding on them.” You demonstrate with the air, pretending to cup someone’s face and bring it closer to yours before pushing them away. “The whole thing is essentially just teasing someone for however long they booked me for.”
“Are there any other rules?” Jisung asks, trying to seem engaged and eager to learn more about your profession instead of focusing on how you’re riding that chair. 
“Yeah, one of my biggest rules is that the client has to stay fully clothed the whole time. There are exceptions like if they’re wearing a tie, I might loosen it or undo it. I’ve worn their ties myself once or twice.”
“Has anyone ever, um,” he pauses. 
You cock your head to the side in intrigue. “Has anyone ever what?”
“Has anyone ever like, cum? While you’re doing that?”
“It’s happened before. But they usually try not to because they’d have to pay me more. It’s in my contract. It’s also really embarrassing for them and it’s unsanitary- I won’t get into the details but it’s not very common.”
It definitely would have happened to Jisung if he had gone through with it. Honestly, it would probably happen if anyone were to give him a lap dance, but if it was you? He wouldn’t stand a chance. 
“But it’s normal for guys to get, like, hard, right?”
“Oh yeah, that’s pretty much guaranteed. Anyone would get turned on if someone was grinding on them. Sometimes it happens before I’m even on their lap, like you’re hard right now and I haven’t even touched you.”
“Wha-” Jisung’s neck snaps as he looks to confirm what he already knows to be true. He rushes to cover the bulge in his pants with his hands even though it’s way too late for that. “Fuck, I didn’t- it doesn’t-”
You brush it off. “Don’t worry, Ji. It’s a perfectly normal reaction to seeing something arousing. It means I’m good at my job.”
“No, but I’m your best friend! God, you must feel so objectified and weird...”
“Jisung, I promise I don’t feel weird or objectified. Is this too weird for you? Do you want to stop?”
“I- uh, I don’t know,” he admits. Obviously he likes what he sees, his hard dick pressing against the zipper of his jeans is proof enough of that. But he’s also never felt so embarrassed in his life. It feels so... wrong of him to be taking advantage of the situation like this. He should have taken up your offer to go join the rest of his brothers at the party because now he’s fucked. He’s a weak, weak man.  “Are you sure you’re okay with... it?” 
“Of course,” you assure him. “That’s the point of this birthday present anyway.”
Maybe, but it wasn’t supposed to be a present from you. Jisung is so overwhelmed by thoughts and emotions that he can’t even focus on what you’re doing anymore. He zones out, willing his erection to go down until he remembers that he’s supposed to be paying attention. He’s supposed to be learning. 
“So I go back and forth between grinding on the guy and dancing in front of him so it doesn’t get too intimate, and then towards the end I usually- fuck, it’s kind of hard to do when there isn’t someone actually here.” He watches you stand up and approach him. “Do you mind if I just....” you trail off expectantly. 
Are you asking what Jisung thinks you’re asking? Is whatever it is you’re trying to show him so important that you need to torture him further?
“If you just what?” 
“If I sit on your lap for this part? It’ll be quick, I swear.”
“Go ahead,” Jisung says before he can argue with himself. 
He had already dug his grave, he might as well bury himself too. 
You take a deep breath before placing a hand on each of his shoulders for balance and lowering yourself onto his lap. His legs are spread a bit so they’re kind of awkward to straddle but you’re used to it so it’s easy to adjust. 
“Wow, you are hard,” you breathe out, laughing a little. 
Jisung wants to die. He takes a deep breath of his own and steels himself before asking, “what was it that you wanted to show me?”
Your eyes light up like you had forgotten why you were sitting on him in the first place. “Oh, right. I put the music on a timer to fade out at the end of the session so when that happens I’ll grab the guy’s face like this,” you take Jisung by the cheeks and squeeze so that he’s forced to open his mouth. 
He wonders briefly if you’re about to spit in his mouth but to his disappointment you make him bite down on a piece of paper instead. He furrows his eyebrows in confusion and reaches up to pluck whatever it is from between his lips.
“What is this?”
“My business card!” you exclaim. “Smart right? I wanted to do something memorable and so far it’s gotten over fifty percent of my clients to become repeat customers.”
Jisung snorts. “Yeah, it’s definitely that and not the fact that you’re hot and have your tits out.”
“It’s all part of the sell,” you joke.
“Well, I can see why you’re working all the time,” Jisung quips. “You’re very good at what you do.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“Of course I do.”
“I’m just sorry I ruined your birthday present,” you sigh. 
Jisung frowns. “What do you mean? You didn’t ruin it.”
“Yeah, I did! If your friends had hired someone else you would have gotten a real lap dance, not... an instructional.”
“I didn’t even know that’s what I was supposed to be getting! I didn’t know they had hired anyone!”
“Still, it could have been fun.”
“No, this was fun. I’m glad it was you.”
The worry line between your eyebrows softens and you smile fondly at him, making Jisung’s stomach do a somersault. Out of everything that had happened tonight, that was what affected him the most. 
He doesn’t know how much time passes but suddenly your expression changes. Your gaze shifts from relaxed to focused as you sit up and lean in, closer and closer until your nose is pressed to his. Jisung doesn’t want to speak. He doesn’t want to break the spell. His fists clench and unclench repeatedly at his sides. He’s desperate to touch you, to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you to him, but he won’t break your rule unless you give him permission. 
You break it for him, grabbing his hands and placing them on your hips.
“Is this okay?” you whisper. 
He nods, his forehead knocking against yours. “Yeah.”
“Are you sure?” 
“Positive.”
You swallow hard, eyes searching his for something he isn’t sure he has. “Can I kiss you?”
“Please.”
Jisung has fantasized about this moment countless times and not a single one compares to it. Your lips are soft and warm and you taste like that chapstick you always keep in your pocket. Jisung recognizes it immediately because he’s borrowed it more than a few times. 
You moan and run a hand through his hair, pulling at the ends. It’s gotten a lot longer recently but you seem to like it. In fact, part of the reason he hasn’t cut it yet is because you keep complimenting the way he’s been styling it. He wonders if you like how it feels between your fingers. 
To his own surprise, Jisung is the first to use tongue. He feels your lips part and uses the opportunity to slide his tongue between them like you had with your business card. You moan again and this time you grind down on his lap for real. 
It catches you both off guard. Jisung’s hips follow the movement of yours, chasing your heat even when you lift yourself off of him in a panic. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”
“Don’t be,” he murmurs, trying to hide a smug grin, “it’s a perfectly normal reaction.”
Your eyes narrow at him. “I guess I deserved that.”
“Mhm- mph!” You kiss him before he can get another word out, this time shoving your tongue in his mouth. 
Now that you know it’s okay to grind on him, you don’t hold back. You seem so eager. If Jisung didn’t know better he’d think this had been your plan all along. 
“God, baby,” he whimpers, shocked at how shattered his own voice sounds. “This feels so good but if you don’t stop I’m gonna-” he can’t bring himself to say it. “I’m not going to last.”
You slow down and lift your head from the crook of his shoulder. “Do you want to stop?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know how far you’re okay with going but...”
“We can go as far as you want, Ji. You’re the one...” you don’t finish the sentence but Jisung knows what you’re implying. It isn’t hard to guess. It’s why he’d been given that stupid nickname freshman year. 
“You’d... you’d want me in that way?” he asks. He’s almost afraid of the answer because he doesn’t think you feel the same way about him. Even if you are down to fuck, he doesn’t think it’s because you have a big giant crush on him like he does you. Maybe you’re just horny or maybe you’d be doing it as a favor.
“Of course.” It’s not an answer that quells the burning questions he’s been holding onto since he met you but it does enough to temper the flames a bit. You want him. It’s enough. “But... you don’t care that your first time would be with a stripper?” 
He knows that’s not what you mean. He knows you’re worried that he feels like it’s inorganic. That it’s part of the job you had been hired to do. But he knows the truth. That isn’t what it is at all. 
He shakes his head. “My first time would be with my best friend. There’s no one else I’d rather it be with.”
lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!
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norrisleclercf1 · 2 months
Note
Speaking of brat readerrrrr
Seb leaves to go get some things and gave her clear instructions not to do anything til he’s back but the second Charles his home she’s on his lap riding his thigh to get her release just for seb to come home and find her like that🫠🫣
Am I projecting? I’m projecting
A/N: Brat reader is back with Seb and Charles and she'd totally do this, and sweet Charles would be so clueless also, got a little out of hand in the end, have no shame
You whine, as Seb pushes you down into the couch staring at you, you who was currently only wearing an old ferrari t-shirt and nothing else, being a brat yet again. You just wanted one simple orgasm, but Sebastian was being a dick and refusing to help you out.
"I have told you to behave yourself and here you are acting like a whore. You even interrupted that important meeting because you don't know how to be a good girl." Sebastian sighs, with a slight squeeze of your throat, you arch up and whine spreading your legs.
"No, good girls get orgasms, bad girls stay here and don't touch themselves until I get back, do you understand?" You narrow your eyes, suddenly you remember something and go soft under his hold and sigh. "M sorry, I'll wait." You whisper, giving your best innocent look.
Sebastian smiles gently and lets go of your throat and kissing you sweetly. "Be a good girl, I'm going to run some errands, when i get back and you've been good maybe I'll let you sit on my face." You keen under that idea, but you were you, knowing damn well who'd be home soon. "Okay," You breath and Sebastian smiles, giving you a kiss on the forehead and leaving the apartment.
-----------------------
Hearing the keys jingle in the door, it's shoved open as Charles trudges through the door holding his bags. You sit on the couch, legs under you to hide your naked lower half from your tired and unsuspecting boyfriend.
"Hi, Charlie." You giggle, Charles looks over and smiles, his body shagging in relif at one of you being here to greet him. "Hello, my gorgeous girl," Charles walks over and leans down, kissing you so gently it felt like clouds on your lips. "Where's Sebastian?" Looking around the apartment, he notices the lack of the German.
"Went to run some errands, um Charles, I need help with something," You whisper, looking away but Charles grabs your chin and makes you look at him. "Baby, look at me, what'd wrong?" You smirk, knowing you were sinking your teeth into Charles.
Sweet, sweet, helpful and innocent Charles was about to join you in being in trouble with Sebastian. Of course, Charles would never believe you'd be a brat, you were just his good girl, and here you were manipulating that boy more than Ferrari.
"Help me?" You drop your legs slowly and spread them out, showing off how wet and puffy you were from how much you ached. "Awww love, did you get needy while Seb was gone?" Hook, line, and sinker. It was far too easy-to-get Charles to help you. "Yes, he's been gone so long and you're here and you know he'd be okay with you helping me. Please Charlie, I need you." Moving you flip each other where he's sitting on the couch and you're straddling his lap.
"Maybe we should wait for Seb," Charles hums, but you shake your head no. "Nooooo, you don't even have to fuck me, I'll ride your thigh, just please Charles, it hurts so much." You play at his emotions, making your eyes glossy, like you were about to cry. "Baby," He sighs, hands holding onto your waist and lowering you onto his thigh. "Fuck, but make it quick." Charles groans, feeling how wet you are, creating a damp spot on his sweats.
You gingerly move your hips back and forth, getting a good rhythm. Charles groans, holding your hips and helps you, but he moves around and wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into him. He can't help himself and raises your shirt and sucks in one of your tits. Whimpering you move faster, feeling that tug in your stomach as Charles nips and sucks on your tits drawing you closer.
"Mhm, fuckkkk," You whimper practically bouncing on Charles thigh, the two of you are so wrapped up in each other, you don't hear the door open or close. Sebastian hears the moans and sighs, shaking his head in disappointment. "Charlie, fuck m close," You cry the two of you so wrapped up in each other. "You can cum pretty girl," He groans, fuck Charles was so hard he might even come untouched.
Sebastian gently puts down his bags and walks up to you. Charles groans and looks up about to greet the older driver when Sebastian reachs up and wraps his hand around your throat and picks you off Charles. "Nooo," You cry, feeling that little bubble burst before you could cum. "Tsk tsk tsk, I gave you specific instructions, which were what?" He groans, trying to control himself, seeing the utter mess that is Charles.
He has such a blessed-out face, that Sebastian feels his shorts grow tight, seeing the messy hair, swollen lips and the slight dark spot where Charles's cock had made it wet. "Not to touch myself, and I didn't Sebby. Charles was touching me," You beg, but Sebastian sighs and lets you go. "Baby, you're about to learn the hard way." Sebastian steps forward and gathers a healthy amount of Charles's hair.
"You're going to sit there, no touching, me, Charlie, or yourself. And you're going to do that, as I fuck Charles. Do you understand?" Sebastian asks, Charles moaning as Seb pulls on his hair, throat back as Sebastian groans, Charles being his sweet baby. "Please, please Sebby, I'll be good." You beg, hating this punishment.
"Nope, you were bad, Charles was innocent in all this, so I'm going to reward him. On your knees baby boy." Charles moves quick getting on his knees while Sebastian moves pulling down his shorts and pulls out his cock. "You're going to learn the hard way on how to be good, maybe then you'll finally learn your lesson." Charles groans and reaches out but Seb moves pressing his tip against Charles mouth who opens it happily and sucks his boyfriend down. "Now, be a good girl and watch how to suck cock properly." Sebastian groans, as Charles takes him down with ease.
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archivesainz · 2 months
Text
in that summer ˚✧ ₊˚ 🌊 sv5
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. . . Sebastian and Y/n go on a vacation with the kids, but they're not together. Something goes to change. .
genre: sebastian dad! pregnancy mention, smut, creampie, ex husband and ex wife.
pairing: sebastian vettel x y/n (reader she/her)
a/n: english is NOT my first language, so if have any errors please tell me.
The 6-year-old boy let out a hot laugh every time his father picked him up and threw him in the air, leaving him on the floor again and running after him next.
- "Dad will get you!" - Sebastian said aloud as he ran after his son, not to mention the laugh when he stumbled and fell with his ass to the floor, releasing a childish laugh.
Sebastian ran quickly to the boy checking to see if he was okay. Isaac smiled at his father, showing his beautiful dimples along with his perfect blue eyes, matching his little blonde hair with a messy bangs, a copy of Sebastian.
- "How are you, big boy?" - Sebastian asked the little boy, getting up and taking him on his lap quickly, fixing his little blouse with a drawing of some fishes in front.
- "Yes, dad, I'm fine." - Isaac answered him, getting a kiss on the chubby cheek. His little hands holding Sebastian' black shirt as they went to the kitchen.
It was a vacation and there was the Vettel family, it had only been a few weeks since they were in a very quiet and familiar resort where everyone had a lot of fun - especially the children - and relaxed from months of work and daily stresses.
But there was a catch. Sebastian and Y/n were not together. Yes, the couple decided to make that trip for the children. They knew how much they wanted and needed a moment with the whole family together. So they talked and decided to travel.
Things weren't exactly good between the two. It was hard to hear the children repeatedly asking if "Dad will go back to live with us, mom?" Or "Daddy, are you going to go back to live at home?" Anyway... they were just children who wanted to see their parents together again.
Sebastian and Y/n had broken up about 4 years ago, when the couple's youngest daughter was born. To tell you the truth, they weren't exactly together when the girl was close to being born, but they still lived together.
There was no way to explain specifically what happened for the two to separate. There were many reasons, and the main one was the routine. Sebastian worked too much, always very tired and when he got home the rest of his energy was spent by his eldest son, at the time still a baby.
Y/n also worked, but spent most of her time taking care of her son, not that she didn't like it, she loved to take care of her little boy. The problem is that she was very overwhelmed and this generated fights and more fights between the couple.
So after many nights of discussions and reconciliations with raw and dirty sexes, Ivy was born. Well, many things happened after that, and after a while Y/n couldn't stand that tense and heavy atmosphere that stayed at home anymore, and she couldn't handle all that being pregnant and having to take care of a child.
They separated and Sebastian left home. Leaving Y/n shaken. However, Sebastian never moved away from his children, he always came back to see them and whenever he had time he went out with the children. Ivy stayed more with her mother, of course, because she was very young. But Sebastian didn't stop her from nusting and giving her all her love and affection.
- "I want mom.." - Isaac grumbled on Sebastian's lap, when he entered the kitchen seeing Y/n sitting at the table while feeding Ivy. She looked at herself over her shoulder, that look that Sebastian knew very well.
Sebastian put his son on the floor watching him walk to his mother, who ran her hand on his straight hair, asking him softly if he was okay.
- "Did you fall love, did you get hurt?" - Y/n asked carefully.
- "Fall but Dad caught me, I'm fine mom." - He replied looking at the little sister who had her right little hand on her curly hair while the other leaned on her mother's chest while drinking her vitamin in her moana's cup.
Ivy was born full of health and joy. The little girl had a lot of energy and was the princess of her parents. The brown hair full of curls, the big and green eyes like the mother's, and the full mouth that also pulled the mother. The only thing that reminded her father was her little nose and eyebrows. And she also had no dimples, unlike her brother.
- "I want water." - Isaac asked while rubbing his face in his mother's hot hand, liking the affection he received.
- "Ask your father love, I'm feeding your sister now."
The little boy nodded walking to his father again who was leaning against the kitchen countertop, his blue eyes staring with affection Y/n feeding Ivy.
Isaac came close to his father touching his legs and having his eyes on himself next.
- "Water daddy." - Sebastian waved taking his son's spider man's glass in the closet and putting water then, giving the boy's little hands watching him drink. He handed the glass to his father when he drank everything and ran back to the living room to play with his various toys.
Sebastian approached Y/n, seeing when she put her sleepy daughter on her lap while wiping the little girl's mouth with a cloth.
- "Tell me soon, I know you're dying to complain." - Sebastian started crossing his arms under his chest, leaning against the wall.
- "These jokes of yours will end up hurting Isaac. I already told you that." - Y/n complained, the irritation was palpable in her voice.
- "It won't hurt, he just fell Y/n, children fall.. and he's growing up too, a lot of energy."- He said watching her walk through the kitchen.
- You know, Sebastian. - Y/n said rolling her eyes, going towards the living room.
Sebastian snorted by running his hands through his hair, he was angry and all he wanted was for things to be as before, he missed Y/n, he missed being a family with her, with the children.
He expected things to change on that trip.
(...)
- "Where do you think you're going like this?" - That's what Sebastian asked when he saw Y/n get out of the bathroom. He was sitting on the couple's bed - Sebastian did not sleep there to tell the truth - while watching the two children playing on top of her, when Y/n came out only in a bikini and short beach shorts.
- "I'm going to sunbathe in the pool, take care of the children for me?" - She asked not looking very interested in giving satisfaction to her ex-husband.
- "Y/n." - Sebastian got up, leaving the pillows near his children so they wouldn't fall out of bed, and walked to Y/n, who took her eyes off her cell phone staring at him - "You won't go out like that alone, if you're going out we'll all go together."- He said, jealousy burning inside your body.
Y/n frowned, observing Sebastian' angry and jealous face. She knew him so well. She approached her ex-husband seeing when he looked down at her breasts.
- "You don't decide whether or not I go out alone Sebastian, and no, we're not all going out together. I need some time for myself." - She said slightly irritated by Sebastian' jealous attitude.
- "Look at this.." - Sebastian said looking at Y/n's big tits - Everyone will look at you, and you know very well that I hate it Y/n.
- "But it's really to look at, I'm single." - She said debauched, but swallowed it dry when Sebastian locked her jaw.
- "Fuck you're annoying me." - He said turning his face to his children who were playing, not caring about the parents arguing there - "Please.. let's all go together, yes?" - He asked, watching Y/n roll his eyes.
- "No, I'm going alone. Take care of the children, I won't be long." - She walked away from Sebastian going towards her children, saying goodbye with kisses and smells.
Before Y/n left the room, Sebastian went after her, stoping her at the door. Y/n snorted angry, but loving to see Sebastian dying of jealousy and running after him like a domestic puppy.
- "What is it Sebastian" - She asked without patience.
- "Just be careful, okay?" - He said running his hand through Y/n's long, curly hair. She waved, liking the affection. - "And don't forget Y/n" - He held her chin - "You're still mine and these tits here" - He looked down - "They're mine." - And before Y/n could answer, he entered the room again slamming the door, leaving Y/n with hers heart racing without containing the naughty smile on her face.
Things would never change apparently, and even if Y/n tried not to fall into Sebastian's sly and seductive charm, she never could, her heart always spoke more for itself than her mind.
The whole thing is that Y/n didn't want to get hurt again. It was difficult to live without Sebastian, even though he had some passing cases, no one would ever be like him. And Y/n knew that his heart would always belong to Sebastian, after all, it was always him. Y/n knew that he would forever have a bond with him, and she still hoped that one day they would go back to what they were before. A happy and united family.
(...)
Sebastian was at the resort gym, it was about ten in the morning, and he had already been there for almost an hour. Working out lightly because I was on vacation. His little boy was also there playing in a corner with his toys, while Y/n was with Ivy at home.
Isaac watched Sebastian carefully making a treadmill, his curious little blue eyes thinking that it was a toy, so he leaned his little hands on the floor and pushed his body up standing up and walking to his father.
When he approached Sebastian automatically put his eyes on the boy, taking off his headphones to hear what his son was saying.
- "Daddy's toy?" - He asked pointing to the treadmill, approaching curiously. Sebastian quickly slowed down and turned off the device, telling his son to move away.
- "Don't, it's not a toy, don't get close, you can get hurt." - He said taking the little boy's arm and pushing him away. Isaac looked up staring at Sebastian's sweaty face, he was shirtless and only wearing black shorts, his body all sweaty.
- "I want to go up!" - The boy asked slyly. Sebastian bent down at the height of his son fixing his straight hair.
- "Isaac can't."
- "I want to go up daddy.. to play." - Isaac kept insisting, wanting more than anything to walk on the "toy"
- "It's not a toy son, is it to train hm?" - Sebastian smiled - "Be strong like dad." - He showed the muscles of his arm, pulling a childish laugh from his son.
- "I want to be like daddy!!" - Isaac said excited, imitating his father's previous movement and showing his chubby little arms.
Sebastian smiled, kissing his son's head. He took him in the arm putting the boy on the treadmill, Sebastian supported his feet next to the machine turning it on and putting it at speed 2 very slowly, so that his son did not fall.
- "You have to keep walking son, will dad hold you so you don't fall all right?" - He said holding both arms of Isaac who agreed with his head, smiling when he saw the treadmill walking under his little feet.
- "Faster!" - The little boy asked excitedly, Sebastian smiled putting it at speed 3 while holding his son carefully, while the child ran on the treadmill.
- "Run, run.. Wow! How fast you are Isaac."- Sebastian increased the speed to 5, Isaac let out a hot laugh running with all his strength while Sebastian held him.
- "I'm faster than Dad" - The boy said loudly, his little feet running non-stop on the treadmill. Your little hair is already sticking to your forehead due to sweat.
- "I want to see if it runs more than that." - Sebastian said fun increasing the speed to 7. The little boy screamed smiling and before he fell Sebastian stopped the machine taking him in his lap and throwing him up, the childish and hot laugh echoed through the empty gym, making his drooling father's heart warm up.
- "More, more, more!!!" - Isaac screamed when Sebastian put him on the floor, taking his water bottle and drinking to hydrate himself.
- "It's better not son, I'm tired and if your mother knows..."
- "Did you know what Sebastian Vettel?" - He choked on the water turning his face and seeing Y/n standing at the entrance of the gym, holding Ivy's little hand that seemed very entertained on her lollipop.
- "Nothing.. it's nothing, isn't it, son?" - He turned his face in the direction of the boy who was already running to his mother.
- "Mom! Mom! Dad let me play running on the floor that walks." - That's what he heard when he felt Y/n's sharp look towards him, he swallowed it dry, knowing that there was another complaint.
Yeah, sometimes Sebastian looked like a child, afraid of his mother (Y/n).
Hours later and they were all in a luxurious restaurant near the resort. All well dressed. Ivy was wearing a little white dress and in her blonde hair an adorable bow of the same color, her little hands with pink painted nails. Isaac was wearing black pants and a burberry blouse, his little legs swinging on the chair while eating.
Y/n was elegant in a burgundy dress, his beautiful smooth and thick legs to show and his big breasts highlighted by the neckline, which was devoured by Sebastian's look.
And Sebastian was perfect as always. A simple black pants and a black turtleneck T-shirt, elegant and a hot total in Y/n's opinion, who held on so as not to let out a sigh every minute, she loved it when he wore a turtleneck.
- "Can you cut for me daddy, please?" - Isaac asked politely to his father who waved cutting a small piece of meat in his son's mouth. Ivy ate next to her mother who also helped her.
- "Are you thirsty , princess?" - Y/n asked her, wiping her dirty mouth in soak.
- "Yes mom, I want juice." - She asked, her beautiful green eyes shining in the direction of her mother, who answered her request by helping her drink the lemon juice. Without containing the smile when the girl made a face.
- "So, tell mom how it was today, did you have fun?" - Y/n asked her children, while noticing Sebastian's look on her, to tell the truth she would never get used to those blue eyes looking so carefully at her details, it was something Y/n always loved about Sebastian.
- "Yes, Dad let me play at the gym and then rode a bike with me!" - Isaac said excited, his dimples like all his mouth dirty with soak. Sebastian smiled affectionately.
- "What a good son, your father is kind of crazy for letting you play on the treadmill.." - She gave a mischievous look at Sebastian who smirked for her.
- "But I'm glad you had fun." - Y/n said running her hand through the boy's hair, who waved, chewing. She turned her gaze to her daughter who practically slept sitting.
- "Are you very tired of today, my dear?" - Sebastian asked her, cleaning Isaac's mouth. The little girl blinked her heavy green eyes, smiling.
- "Yes, dad, mom and I had a day of beauty"- She said confident laughing from her parents, for the way she spoke the words taggled because of sleep.
- "Okay?" - She confirmed, Sebastian approached the little girl taking her little hand and seeing her painted nails.
- "It was beautiful, daughter. You look as beautiful as your mother.." - He said looking away at Y/'n who smirked exposing a dimple.
- "Mom is beautiful!!!" - The girl confirmed, smiling at her father who smoothed her little hand.
- "Absolutely love.. for sure." - Sebastian waved sending a naughty look to Y/n who smiled denying it with her head, helping her son to eat.
After a few hours, they decided to go back to the resort. The children were tired and didn't take long to fall asleep, so as soon as they arrived and changed them, their parents put them in the room.
- "Good night, loves of my life. I love you." - Sebastian said giving a long kiss on the head of his two sleepy children. Watching Y/n do the same before leaving the room.
-"Mom loves you. Sleep well." - That's what Y/n whispered to her children, fixing them right in bed and left more affectionate kisses all over their little face and left the room leaving the door half-open.
🌊
She saw Sebastian leaning against the wall and approached him, his gaze burning with desire in the direction of Sebastian who smirked, knowing more than anyone that look that only Y/n sent him.
- "Too tired?" - He asked crossing his arms.
- "Very.. you have no idea." - Y/n said in an ironic tone, when she rolled her eyes and went to her room, ready to take a shower and relieve her sexual tension. Before she entered the room she felt her arm being grabbed without force by Sebastian, who turned him facing her, grabbing her waist then, Y/n gasped putting her hands on her ex-husband's little breastplate.
- "Where do you think you're going hm?" - He asked, your rogue smile without leaving your face.
- "Rest.. know how to relax." - Y/n approached Sebastian's ear whispering softly: - "I'm so horny, I think I need to relieve myself."
Sebastian took a deep breath, climbing his hand to Y/n's hair where he pulled without much force, he brought his face closer to the fragrant neck passing his nose to her delicate jaw, reaching his ear where he left a wet kiss right below, smiling when he felt Y/n tremble in his arms.
- "I'll help you with that." - She denied it with her head, Sebastian smiled softly against Y/n's warm skin that felt even more wet. He walked away leaving wet kisses all over her neck, got close to her fleshy mouth lightly relacing his lips when he saw Y/n grunting irritated by the provocation. He walked away a little further holding Y/n's face with his hand and watching her give him a submissive look that Sebastian loved. - "Don't play hard Y/n, we both know the little desperate little girl for my cock that you are."
- "So convinced.." - Y/n smiled, biting her lips.
- "Oh you know that yes, and you know even better that only I know how to take care of you babe." - He lowered his voice - "Only I know how to make you cum very hot on my cock - Y/n let a moan escape from her lips, she couldn't help it, she always loved the way Sebastian treated her in sex, the things he said made her so wet. And she knew he liked that.
- "P-please.." - She asked sighing, Sebastian smiled taking his hand off Y/n's face and going down to her waist, feeling her arms on his shoulders soon after.
- "My little whore." - Sebastian whispered, leaving a wet peck on Y/n's lips, she lowered the collar of Sebastian's T-shirt scratching her neck lightly and couldn't stand the provocation anymore, glued her mouths together.
The taste of the wine they had ordered earlier was palpable on their lips, and Y/n grunted during the kiss feeling Sebastian's skillful tongue suck his hard. She missed that kiss and that footprint.
Sebastian pulled his lower lip slowly, passing his tongue then to relieve the pain, leaving a long peck on Y/n before plunging his tongue into her mouth again, she who squeezed the back of her neck and scratched while Sebastian squeezed her waist tightly. He pushed Y/n to the wall that moved her mouth away from her to breathe, opening her eyes and seeing Sebastian's red mouth and rogue smile.
- "So delicious.. I missed your hot little mouth love." - He whispered making the hairs of his arms to get goosebumps, he approached him again leaving a kiss in the corner of her red lips and talking softly near your ear: - "I really want to fuck you very hard in the shower, what do you think?"
- "Yes.. I want everything from you Sebastian" - Y/n confessed sighing feeling the warm breath of Sebastian who kissed her whole neck with devotion - "Do you fuck me hm? That way only you know love." - She said softly running her hands through
Sebastian's hair who walked away smiling.
He held his hand and opened the bedroom door, then locked it. Then they would go to the large suite of the luxurious room, Y/n leaning on the sink with a naughty smile watching Sebastian close the door, when he approached him again starting a new kissing session.
Y/n pulled Sebastians' T-shirt up during the kiss, he who soon walked away taking it off and throwing it away. She couldn't help but look down through the little spotted body, the volume of the big cock already very visible in the black pants.
- "Do you like the view?" - Sebastian asked convinced, Y/n agreed with her head biting her lips.
- "Yummy.." - She spoke quietly. Sebastian smiled, raising his hand to Y/n's thick thighs, lowering his gaze and seeing the breasts he loved so much in front of him.
- "Do you miss when I sucked on your very hot breasts?" - He asks softly, continuing to raise his hand into Y/n's dress, which where he felt Sebastian's hand got even more wet. - "Or rather.." - He arrives in Y/n's lace panties without containing the little smile when she closes her eyes and throws her head back, feeling his hand touching the hard clit - "When did I fuck them with my cock?"
- "Sebastian..." - Y/n moans in need, she rests her hands on her ex-husband's firm shoulders, feeling his finger rubbing hot on her sensitive clitoris.
- "Impressive Y/n. No matter how much time passes, you will always be so sensitive to my touches." - He ran his nose on Y/n's fragrant collarbone going up her neck and delighting in his panting breath in her ear - "A bitch so needs a cock." - And Y/n opens her eyes when he moves away, taking off his pants. Y/n does the same by starting to take off her dress, anxiously.
When the two are naked, Y/n throws a naughty look at Sebastian who wrapped his big cock with a hand masturbating watching Y/n's chubby pussy, he looked up at her eyes speaking authoritatively: - "To the shower. Now." Yn didn't even hesitate to go quickly, entering the large and spacious box, she turned on the shower feeling the strong jet of water hit her hot body, closing her eyes and enjoying it, knowing that Sebastian was watching her.
- "Turns." - She heard Y/n say opening her eyes and seeing him facing her inside the box. He masturbated his thick cock and full of veins jumped slowly, the bright red head with the pre-entment leaking from the slit.
Y/n bit her lip turning around and prancing her wet ass towards Sebastian, hearing him sigh heavily. She smiled naughty shaking slowly while the water wet her body, a fucking hot scene.
- "Do you like it like that, love?" - She ran her hand through her ass giving a strong slap on her wet skin. Sebastian increased the speed of the handjob moaning quietly with his eyesight.
- "Are you going to roll like that on my dick?" - He asked panting.
Y/n turned in front of him again approaching Sebastian's spotted body, she was kneeling slowly for all the glory of the ex-husband who felt more pre-joyment leaking from his cock.
- "First, baby.." - She said touching her strong thighs - "I want you to fuck my breasts." - She licked the red glans, watching Sebastian lock his jaw. - "And then... I'm going to roll and you're going to fuck me very tasty against the box." - Y/n smiled feeling a slight slap on the cheek, Sebastian held her wet hair masturbating the cock very close to her face and hitting her on Y/n's pink cheek.
- "Be quiet and open your fucking mouth." - He told her to watch Y/n wave. She did what was asked and opened her mouth to Sebastian, who stuck his cock inside to make it very wet. Then he left positioning the cock in the middle of Y/n's breasts, she who squeezed him between them.
- "Damn.." - He moaned starting to stock up, everything slipped easily because of Y/n's wet skin who had her eyes glazed on Sebastian who bit his lips moaning softly.
Sebastian supported a hand on the side of Y/n's neck, starting to stock up harder. She who with one hand squeezed his balls and the other leaned on her waist, looking at herself horny.
- "Go love, fuck my tits hm.." - Y/n said almost in a moan, which made Sebastian roll his eyes and slap her pink cheek hard. Y/n whimpered at the burning, then smiling at her ex-husband.
- "Fuck you whore, look at me like this again that I'm going to cum on this beautiful little face of yours." - Sebastian moaned when Y/n licked the sensitive head of his cock, staring at him like that again.
- "Oh fuck.." - He threw his head back taking his cock out of the middle of Y/n's breasts, masturbating fast on the hot tongue of the greedy little whore. Cumming minutes later in Y/n's little mouth and big wet tits.
- "Always delicious.." - Y/n said after a while, getting up and being pushed under the shower, where Sebastian kissed her willingly feeling his own taste.
Y/n reached Sebastian's cock masturbating him lightly to make him hard, which didn't take long. Soon after, she went up scratching Sebastian's abdomen that walked away throwing a silly look at her, Y/n felt her pussy contract with it.
- "Fuck me." - She asked sly, Sebastian just turned Y/n with brutality under the glass of the box. She leaned her hands behind her back as if she were handcuffed, Sebastian masturbated by opening Y/n's wet ass and rubbing his hard and wet cock in the little entrance that contracts anxiously.
- "Sebastian!" - Y/n moaned when he came in for good, starting to stock up. Sebastian held in her arms, while Y/n had her cheek prot in the wet box of the bathroom, her breathing hitting against the glass along with the noise of the bodies crashing under the water in the shower.
- "Hm.. it's still so tight for me, because you know I like it, isn't it a little bitch?" - He said behind him, without stopping stocking up. Y/n moaned feeling Sebastian's hot and wet cock stocking on her little cunt.
- "Yes Sebastian.. fuck your whore!" - Y/n contracted the pussy on Sebastian's cock that grunted excited stocking up hard and non-stop while moaning hoarsely.
The wet bodies collided hard under the shower, the water fell on Sebastian's chest and Y/n's big ass that hit his groin hard, while the two moaned too much at the moment.
- "Fuck" - Sebastian moaned - "Good as fuck." - Y/n got even more wet moaning. She leaned one hand on the glass going down the other to her little clit where she rubbed hard.
- "I'm going to c-cum Seb.. fuck I'm going to cum on your cock." - Y/n moaned with her mouth glued to the box, feeling Sebastian' shead resting on her wet back while he also moaned to himself.
- "Make fun of me that I'm going to fill you with cum." - He said hoarse - "Do you want that? Do you want me to get you pregnant again, you whore?" - He asked kissing Y/n's back.
- "Y-yes fuck.. fills me with cum Seb, cums very hot inside me" - Y/n said moaning loudly when Sebastian stocked up hard three more times cumming inside her in strong jets of hot cum. Y/n then came shaking on Sebastian's cock when he squirted feeling her legs shaking and Sebastian's cock pulsating inside her.
Sebastian turned around asking if everything was okay, Y/n waved smiling and the two kissed again and again.. Until they finish the bath and go to sleep together.
It seemed like things had changed.
(...)
- "Black daddy! I want black!!" - Isaac's voice echoed in the couple's room. They were all there in bed, it was about eight at night and while Sebastian was painting Y/n's nails, Isaac and Ivy entered the room wanting to play with their parents, so everyone decided to paint their nails.
Sebastian smiled at his son waving. It had been three nights since what happened with Y/n and things were good. They had not yet talked about what happened, but somewhere inside them the two knew they were already together again.
- "To match Mom!" - Ivy smiled looking at her nails painted red.
- "That's right, my princess." - Y/n stied her daughter's curls, looking away from her son and Sebastian who painted Isaac's nail with dedication. Her passionate heart is calming up by the scene.
- "Ready son, did you like it?" - Sebastian asked when he finished. Isaac smiled sangly agreeing then approached his mother and sister, Sebastian did the same.
- "I want to see everyone's get together here." - Y/n asked, the three of them did and put their hands under the bed sheet, it was a funny mixture of colors. Sebastian was in dark blue, Isaac black, Ivy red, and Y/n also red.
- "It was beautiful! Did you like it, loves?" - Y/n asked his children who agreed to look at each other's nails.
Sebastian got closer to Y/n taking her hands and kissing them, she smiled leaving a long peck on her lips. He turned his eyes to the children who started singing and jumping on the bed, and with a beautiful smile on his face and shining eyes Sebastian said seriously to Y/n.
- "I love you." - His blue eyes were shining in the direction of Y/n who turned her children's eyes away to Sebastian, also smiling and holding back the cry.
- "I love you too, Sebastian." - She said happy. The two sealed their lips in a passionate kiss moving away when the children played saying that it was disgusting.
Regardless of everything, they were a family, and both Sebastian and Y/n would fight to make it work. And they could do it, because love always wins in the end.
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Hey , I was wondering how do you think the Bay Turtles would react to that Tik Tok trend where the gf called their bf their husband ? Like they could be at the lair and April calls reader amd reader is like " Ya I'm at my husbands place " etc.
This is the trend I'm talking about
https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGeypmGWK/
Very cute idea! Also Bayverse request! 😚👌💙
🐢Calling Them Your Husband🐢
💙❤️Bayverse TMNT x Reader💜🧡
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Word Count: 917
CW: Gender-neutral reader, calling him your husband 🥰, fluffy as hell, not proof-read.
TikTok was an interesting platform that you enjoyed scrolling through occasionally, and it wasn’t until one day you stumbled upon the couple side of TikTok. You were planning on scrolling past until a certain one caught your attention, and it certainly got you thinking…
Later that night, you and your boyfriend were doing your nightly activities as you usually did, when you got a sudden call from April. You answered with a smile, “Hey April, what’s up?” You ask, the conversation flowing naturally until she asked where you were at. Without hesitation, you answered, “Oh! Yeah, I’m at my husband's place.” You smile, before glancing over at the turtle beside you, getting the following reaction…
🐢💙Leonardo💙🐢
💙 Leo was staring rather intensely at you, feeling a flood of emotions course through him as he stared at you. He would then let out a soft chuckle, and waited until you hung up. He really liked that, oh he REALLY loved that actually, you saw him as your husband, huh?
💙 Once you hung up, he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you sweetly, “So, what was that about, hm?” He mused, as you giggled a bit. “You want to get married? Why didn’t you just say so?” He smiles, and you couldn’t find it in your heart to tell him it was a TikTok, you just couldn’t, not at the time anyways. And plus, I mean the topic was on your mind after all.
💙 “Oh yeah.” You grin as you draw him into a loving kiss, “Let’s get married?” You ask, smiling at him. A chuckle escapes him and he presses his forehead against yours, “Yeah… Let’s get married.” He swiftly lifts you up, bridal style, “And let’s make it soon. I want this husband title to be more permanent.” He chuckles. (Though you would have to tell him later down the line about this because you felt a tad bit guilty, spoiler; he was confused, but he was fine with it.)
🐢❤️Raphael❤️🐢
❤️ Raph gave you a soft chuckle, before placing a hand on your hip, “Damn right you are.” He smirked down at you. Now this, dear reader, stroked his ego, he absolutely loved it. He waits for you to finish up the call with April, lightly rubbing your skin in a loving manner as he was left with his thoughts for a moment.
❤️ Once you hung up, he kissed your head, “Husband, huh? Get that from somewhere?” He asks, and you couldn’t help but chuckle, “Yes… I did, it was a TikTok idea.” He playfully rolled his eyes, “Now you didn’t mean it?” He teased, making you panic, “Of course I did, Raph!” He let out a small laugh, “Easy, Dollface. I’m messing with you.” He would kiss your forehead, calming you down.
❤️ He was a little disappointed that it was a TikTok trend, but he does have to admit, you calling him your husband certainly felt good. Now he was rather tempted to make you a Hamato, if you catch my drift. But he’d wait, he wants it to be at the right time… For now, he’s just relentlessly bullies you (lovingly) about this for a good while.
🐢💜Donatello💜🐢
💜 Chokes, Donnie literally chokes. He was in the middle of drinking some apple juice when the phrase, ‘my husband’s’, gave him some whiplash with this one. He was choking and coughing, wiping away dripping juice as you panicked and hung up on April to help him, (RIP Donnie, died to apple juice 💀).
💜 Once you finish helping him clean up, he would finally regain his composure, his nostrils still stinging from the apple juice, he asks, “What was that about?” He wasn’t angry, not at all, just really confused about this whole thing. Husband? That’s not the right term, you guys aren’t married (yet)! You end up explaining, “Well… It was a TikTok trend and I kinda wanted to see how you’d react.” You admit.
💜 He chuckles and shakes his head at this, “A TikTok trend?” He asks, “Well, it certainly caught me off guard… But maybe don’t do that the next time I’m drinking apple juice, it isn’t pleasant in the throat nor the throat.” He warns, making you smile, “Right, sorry Don.” And you kissed his cheek, returning back to your fun nightly activities of working on his latest invention.
🐢🧡Michelangelo🧡🐢
🧡 Mikey goes along with it, he’s seen this trend. He wraps his arms around your waist and leans against your shoulder, speaking closer to the phone, “Yup~ Wifeys at my place!” He grins, and now you were feeling yourself get red in the face, now a little flustered that he went along with it. It kinda made you feel a little giddy inside.
🧡 Once hanging up, Mikey was giving you a smug smirk, “Tried to pull that one on me? Well I’m two steps ahead of you, angelcakes!” He grins as he’d kiss your cheek, making you groan, “Damn it, Mikey. I was hoping you’d be a little more on the surprised side, but alas, you know TikTok better than I do.” Making him laugh and nuzzle against your neck.
🧡 He placed sweet kisses along your neck, “Nah, that just takes the fun out of it.” He grins widely, pulling away to look into your eyes, “Plus, I’ve always wanted to call you wifey.” He smirked again when he saw you blush a little harder, making you sigh, “Fine fine! You win.” You groan, hugging him around the shoulders, as he laughed softly and nuzzled your cheek lovingly.
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maxillness · 17 days
Text
Different Kind Of Good Morning || CL16 x gf!Reader
Warnings: 18+, somnophilia (if you lean into it), horny!charles, praise kink, mean!reader, dry humping, coming in pants, mommy kink, reader slaps Char, degrading kink, sub!charles
Wordcount: 0.8k
Is it a bit short? Yes, but I love it
Tag list: @e-nonsense @babyprofessorsharkpalace
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Waking up to your boyfriend kissing your neck and grinding into your ass, isn’t something that was on her ‘24 bucket list
“Hmm… Char” She groaned as she slowly woke up “What are you doing?” Her words were slurred
“Nothin’. Can’t a I just wake up my beautiful girlfriend with kisses?” He mumbled into her skin
“Sure, of course you can, but it’s something else when you’re grinding your hard-on against my ass as well” She said turning around, only now opening her eyes
“I’m sorry” He pouted, looking down at her lips “You’re just so beautiful” His eyes traveled down from her lips and down to her breasts
“My eyes are up here, darling” She said, hooking a finger under his chin, forcing him to look up at her
“Sorry, baby. But, they’re beautiful too” He smiled, tracing his fingers on her chest above her breasts “And you’re tight tank top isn’t helping”
“I know, sweetheart, but what have I said about waking me up while it’s still dark outside?” She traced her nails down his bare chest and down to the waistband of his sweats making him whimper
“That I’m not supposed to?” It sounded more like a question than an answer
“Good boy” A dark blush spread over his whole body “So why did you?” She grabbed his cock through his sweats, making him whimper
“s'il te plaît” He whined, buckling his hips into her hand
“Answer me” She grabbed his chin roughly “Good Boys do what they’re told” She said, raising his eyebrows at him
“Because I’m horny and I need your touch” His words came out in a quick scramble with a low whimper
“Good boy” She loosened her grip on his chin before kissing him softly
While her lips were still on his, she turned them around so she was hovering over him while he was laying on his back
She had purposely straddled only one of his legs. This new position put her knee dangerously close to his crotch
She bit his bottom lip, taking to opportunity of his gasp to slide her tongue into his mouth. He moaned into her mouth, feeling her tongue in every corner of his mouth
She shifted her knees position to be against his impossible hard cock through his sweats. Her actions made him whimper, putting his hands on her waist
He started rocking his hips against her leg, making her pull her mouth away from him, a string of spit come ting the two
“Please, baby. I need you, please” His green eyes were blown wide as they innocently looked up into hers through hooded eyelids
“Bad boys don’t get what they want, and you’ve been a bad boy, Charles” She said in a teasing voice, not making an effort to stop his hips
“Please, I’m begging you, baby. I’m so sorry. I need you. Please, mommy” He almost whispered the last beg, knowing it would get him in trouble, but also knowing it stures something in her
She slapped him across the face, not too hard, but enough to draw out even more whimpers from him
“Don’t play dirty with me, Leclerc” His hips started going even faster up and down her leg “You’re already on thin ice. I might just pull my leg away”
“No! I’m sorry, baby. Please, I’m sorry” He whimpered the last few words, looking up into her eyes, his pupils now taken all of the green away
He had started moaning at the sensation of fabric rubbing against his cock. He would have liked it more if hit was her mouth or her cunt around him
“What? Are you gonna come in your sweats, Charles? Are you gonna come just by jumping my leg?” He nodded frantically, not being able to form any words between his words “Such a whore” He whined at her words “My whore”
His hips started shuttering as his back arched off of the bed, head rolled back and eyes shut closed
“Please, baby, I’m so close. Can I come?” His moans got louder and his hands tightened around her waist
“Yes. Come for me, Char” She watched in a daze at how his body trembled as he came “You’re so hot when you come” She chuckled kissing his forehead “Go get cleaned up. I’m gonna go back to sleep” She pulled away from him, laying back down in her side of the bed
He got on a clean pair of boxers before laying back down in the bed. He snaked his arms around her body, pulled her back against his chest
“I’m sorry, love” He said kissing her bare shoulder “Thank you” His nose settled in the crook of her neck, taking in deep breaths of her scent
“It’s alright baby, I’m glad I could help” She chuckled, feeling his heartbeat against her back
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"i wanna Be Cool, but only if you want me to."
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"want to impress you"
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synopsis// everyone knows that basketball is the way to someone's heart.
pairing// satoru gojo x gn!reader
word count// 3.8k
contents// college au, basketball au, mutual unknown pining?, friends to lovers?, gojo is a loser, obligatory this is for you and misses
notes// lu wanted a basketball au so lu gets a basketball au. also obviously inspired by the basketball scene in jjk s2 anywho this is just kinda short n goofy :p also inspired by the song i wanna be cool by super whatevr. also i have no idea how basketball works and only ever played for fun so ermmm if anything is wrong bring that up with the universe !
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Shoko unwillingly finds herself sitting on a random bench in the boys locker room, her arms crossed as she glares at the two boys in front of her.
“Why did you guys drag me in here?”
Geto speaks up first: “In my defense, this is all on Satoru, and I have no part in this.”
“You still dragged me in here, did you not?”
“…Yes.” 
“Then you took part in it.”
Gojo smiles as he smacks Geto on the back. “Exactly! You’re my accomplice.”
Shoko rolls her eyes. “Again, why did you guys drag me in here?”
“A presentation!”
“A presentation I have nothing to do with,” Geto chimes in as he takes a seat beside Shoko.
She briefly raises her eyebrow at Geto before directing it toward Gojo. “A presentation?” 
“Yes!” 
“I don’t see a projector or anything worth presenting here,” she says, looking around the room unamused.
“A presentation minus the actual presenting part...”
“So you dragged me in here just to talk to me?”
Geto leans in and whispers, “He actually wants to ask you something.”
Gojo stomps his foot like he’s about to throw a tantrum. “Geto shut up!”
“Can you just hurry up, Gojo?" She asks impatiently. “It reeks of axe body spray in here; I think it might actually kill me.”
He ignores her dramatics because, honestly, she’s not wrong. “You're coming to our game tonight, right?”
“I mean, yeah? Who isn't? It's the biggest game of the season.”
Geto adds, “That's what I said!”
“Do you know if Y/N is going?”
“Is that what you seriously dragged me in here for? Why didn't you just ask Y/N themself? You guys are friends, are you not?”
“Well yeah!” Gojo mumbles sheepishly, “But when I asked, they said maybe...”
“That means no,” Geto says quickly through a cough, as if trying to cover it up.
Gojo hears anyway and outstretches his arms toward Geto as if trying to draw attention toward him. “Exactly!” He then brings his hands in front of his face in a praying motion and begs, “Shoko, please!”
“Oh my fucking god, I don't know why you don't just ask them out already.”
“That's what I'm trying to do! But in order to do that, I kinda need them to go to tonight's game.”
Shoko glares at Gojo for what feels like forever, and Gojo glares back like they’ve suddenly entered a staring contest, and it’s Shoko who breaks eye contact first.
She sighs and pushes the hair out of her face as she mumbles, “God, you're lucky I'm tired of both of you pining after each other.”
“Thank you, Shoko!” he beams. “Also here.”
Shoko takes whatever Gojo is handing her and holds it up, her eyes slightly wide as she inspects it. “…Is this your jersey?”
He nods, fully confident within himself now that Shoko has agreed to drag you to the game, but tilts his head at her because he has no idea why she’s confused. “Yeah, I want them to wear it?” 
“You make me sick to my stomach, fine.”
“Shoko, do you wanna wear my jersey?” Geto suddenly asks.
She stares at him blankly, as if to ask if he really asked her that, knowing damn well she does not like him like that and she has a girlfriend, though after a few moments he finally gets the hint.
“Oh my god, not like that; I just want someone supporting me too.”
She sighs in relief, “Oh, thank god, don’t scare me like that, but yeah, fine, I’ll wear it.”
“Wait, what the hell?” Gojo exclaims, drawing Shoko’s and Geto’s attention back to him. “Shoko, would you have worn mine if I asked?”
“No.”
“What?! Why the hell not?”
“I like Geto more than I like you.”
He glares at her and quickly points out, “You're lying; if that was true, you wouldn't be helping me!”
Shoko simply shrugs and mumbles a small “bye” before getting up and leaving.
Geto stands up and takes his place next to Gojo, softly patting his back as he whispers, “Dare I say this ends our lifelong debate on who's superior?”
Gojo shrugs his hand off of him and speaks harshly through clenched teeth, “Shut. Your. Mouth.”
☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。
“Why would I want to go watch a bunch of sweaty men fight over balls?” You mumble offhandedly, focusing your attention on netflix playing on your phone rather than on her.
“Ok, Y/N, first of all, there's only one ball, and second of all, did you forget Gojo is on the basketball team?”
You quickly turn off your phone and sit up, clasping your hands together in your lap. “….Have I ever mentioned that basketball is actually my favorite sport?”
“Jesus Christ,” she mutters under her breath, pinching her nose bridge. “You're so obvious; why haven't you told him yet?”
“Are you insane? Gojo is hot, and on the basketball team, do you know how many people he already has crushing on him? I'm literally just another name on that list.”
“Sure,” she nods, “But the difference is that you're his friend too; you have more of a chance than anyone else.”
You sigh and frown at her. “Doubt.”
Shoko shakes her head, knowing that you two could spend all day here in your dorm debating whether you have a chance or not, but that’s not what she’s here for, so she’ll let you believe what you want, knowing that (hopefully) Gojo pulling whatever it is he wants to pull will prove you wrong.
“Whatever, put this on,” she says, throwing the jersey at you.
You catch it, your mouth slightly agape as you stare at it curiously. “…Isn't this?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know, is it?”
“Shoko.”
“Can you just trust me?”
“I'm literally just gonna look like another one of his groupies," you say, disdain and disappointment lacing your words as your eyes dart back and forth between her and the jersey.
She smiles, and it’s off-putting because it’s not her normal smile; no, you know, this is the smile she only wears when she’s about to drop a bomb on you. “Difference is that that's his actual jersey.”
You freeze.
“What?”
“I’ll save you a seat. Bye,” she says as she walks out of your dorm.
The slam of your door restarts your heart, and suddenly it and your mind are racing at 100 miles per hour, and the only thing you can do is word vomit despite the fact that Shoko is gone.
“What do you mean by that?! What do you mean this is his actual jersey?!” You run and fling open your door to yell out into the hallway, “Get back here!?” 
Shoko is a good bit away at this point, but she still hears you call out for her and acknowledges that with a wave, yet she still keeps walking away, and you're stuck in your doorway with your chest heaving. You look back down at the jersey in your hands.
Holy shit.
Not only is this a jersey with Gojo’s number on it, but it’s his jersey. How did Shoko even get this? Did she just take it without him knowing? Too many thoughts are in your head, but there’s only one that keeps overlapping the others, there’s only one that’s consistent, only one that electrifies every neuron in your body:
Holy shit, this is Gojo’s jersey.
Fuck the questions and fuck the answers you know you won’t get; the only thing that matters to you right now is that you have and are about to wear Gojo’s jersey. You have to be dreaming; really, that’s the only logical answer, but holy fuck, if you’re dreaming, you do not plan on waking up anytime soon—or ever.
☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。
The two teams quickly start filling up the court and taking up their respective spaces as they warm up, but Gojo, being Gojo, isn't doing that. Instead, he’s standing on the sidelines, looking in at the crowd of people starting to take their seats for the game, and his heart is racing as he searches the crowd for you, and it drops when he inevitably doesn’t find you, but he’s not discouraged, not yet at least, because the game hasn’t officially even started yet, so there’s still time for you to show up.
There’s still time.
He has to keep reminding himself that the whole time he’s warming up—now that he’s actually being forced to, though it’s a half-assed warm-up—he and his coach don’t even know whether what he’s doing could be considered a warm-up in the first place. The game is about to start any second now when Geto approaches Gojo.
“Nothing?” 
Gojo’s head drops as he reluctantly shakes it.
Geto hums and searches the stands for you, but when he doesn't find you either, he tries to find the next best person, Shoko, and it's quite easy to find her considering she’s wearing Geto's jersey.
“Shoko!”
She looks down from the bleachers and sees Geto staring at her as he gestures toward Gojo, and she knows he's trying to ask where you are, but in all honesty, she has no idea either. She shrugs, and even from as high up as she is, she can hear Geto groan before grabbing Gojo by the shoulders and forcing him to look at him.
“I'm sure they’ll come, dude.”
Gojo blankly stares at Geto, an eyebrow raised skeptically, as if to say, really? but before he can verbally reply, their coach comes over and removes Geto’s hand from Gojo’s shoulder to place his own hand there.
“I don't know what's going on with you, but whatever it is, fix it.”
Geto and Gojo tense up at his tone, full of nothing but pure determination. This isn't him asking; this is him demanding that Gojo get his shit together.
“This is the biggest game yet, and I'm not gonna let you and some petty college drama get in the way of that. You're our best player. Act like it.”
Gojo can only nod. His mouth suddenly feels dry, and it's like his throat is closing, but he tries to will the feeling away. Though his reaction is enough for his coach, who starts walking off.
Geto stares up at Gojo with his eyebrows knit, concern lacing his voice, “Gojo...”
Gojo shakes his head and takes a deep breath before flashing Geto his signature smile. “I'm fine, Geto; cmon, we got a basketball game to win.”
☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。
To be totally honest, the reason you were running so late to the game was because you were mentally shitting your pants the entire time you were getting ready. For a good chunk of time, you just sat on your bed with the jersey laid out in front of you, staring at it. Just staring at it, that's all. Because yes, even though you said fuck the questions and fuck the answers, you very much could not do that, not when too many questions and unknown answers were flooding your brain like a dam had cracked. You think you probably would've stayed like that all day and night, missing the game entirely, if not for Shoko spam calling your phone.
“What?”
“Don't 'what' me, where the fuck are you?” She snaps through the phone.
“Uh, getting ready?”
“Y/N, the game started twenty minutes ago.”
“Oh shit,” you say, hopping off your bed and quickly grabbing the jersey.
“Yeah, oh shit! Get your ass down here!”
You don't bother saying goodbye; instead, you quickly hang up, throw the jersey on as fast as you can, and bolt out the door. The halls are empty as you race through them, and you're not surprised; everyone is already at the game—everyone but you—and you speed up your pace just a smidge more. God, you're an idiot, missing the best game of the season—okay, you don't actually care about that. God, you're an idiot, missing seeing Gojo and maybe getting answers on how Shoko obtained his jersey—that's better.
You get to the gym in record time, slightly surprised at how quickly you got there, but you ignore that as you try to catch your breath before walking in and try to prepare yourself for the amount of noise that will assault your ears when you do. You can already hear how loud it is; the walls not doing very much at all to muffle the yells of people. You walk in and wince slightly at the noise as you look around for Shoko. She immediately finds you and waves her hand in the air for you to find, as does Utahime, who's sitting next to her. You smile and quickly make your way toward them, apologizing to the people you pushed through to get to them in the first place. You take your seat next to Shoko with a sigh.
“What did I miss?” you ask, leaning forward slightly just so you can look at both Utahime and Shoko.
Utahime has a small grimace on her face, and Shoko merely motions toward the scoreboard, and the minute you look, your jaw drops. Gojo’s team was losing. No. Losing isn't even the right word here; they were getting absolutely destroyed. They had zero points—none at all. You look back toward the two girls in disbelief.
“What the fuck?”
“Gojo is literally sucking so much ass that it's throwing everyone else off,” Utahime says with a shrug before glancing down at your clothes. “Are you wearing his jersey?”
You clear your throat awkwardly and look away, ignoring the smirk on Shoko's face.
“So, uh, do we know why Gojo’s sucking ass?” You ask after a brief moment of silence.
“Nope,” Utahime responds with a shake of her head.
“I do,” Shoko says nonchalantly.
Your head snaps back toward her. “What? Why?”
“Yeah, you didn't tell me either!”
Shoko rolls her eyes and ignores both of you as she loudly calls out to Gojo, who, by some grace of god, hears her over the hundreds of other people yelling for him. Gojo’s eyes immediately find hers, and he watches how she subtly jerks her head to the side, and like some angel descended from the heavens, like a god showing itself in a moment of dire, he looks and finds you sitting there in his jersey, and he can't help the smile on his face, can't help how just your presence lit a fire underneath him, can't help how just seeing you gave him his pep back in his step.
Gojo finds Geto’s eyes on the court and nods determinedly. They are winning this game, whether it's the last thing Gojo does. He's not going to look like a fool in front of you. So that's exactly what Gojo does. Once the second period starts, Gojo steals back the ball with a new sudden ease, and by halftime, he’s gotten the team caught up to the other one, starting the third period with a tie.
“How the hell did he do that? I thought you guys said he sucked!”
“Aw man, I was rooting for the other team,” Utahime says, frowning, and you have to resist the urge to chew her out in defense of Gojo.
Shoko shrugs. “He was till you know…”
You stare at her blankly. “No, I don't know, actually. Care to enlighten me?”
“No, I do not,” she says before turning to Utahime. “And don't worry, they're only tied; there's still a chance the other team will win.”
Utahime cheerfully hums as she rests her head on Shoko’s shoulder. “You’re right!”
“Don't encourage her to root for the other team?!” 
Utahime sticks her tongue out at you, and before any of you can say anything else, a loud buzzer rings across the gym, indicating a point was made, and to your delight, it was for Gojo’s team. For the rest of the third period, it was just buzzer after buzzer as Gojo’s team took back their rightful place on the scoreboard, completely smashing the other team into the ground, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride swell in your chest. Watching Gojo in his element was doing detrimental things to your crush on him, only making it worse, but you can't even seem to care. Shoko looks over to you and laughs.
“I can practically see the hearts in your eyes.”
You scoff. “Shut up!”
Down on the court, they had just started their last two-minute break between third and fourth period, with the coaches gathering their respective teams into a huddle.
“Alright guys,” Gojo’s coach began, “Keep your heads in the game; we’re taking this victory home, got it?”
All the boys nod hurriedly, and the coach leaves them to do what they need to before the last period starts, but Gojo doesn’t let them get far.
“Whatever fucking happens, I'm getting that last score, got it?”
Everyone on the team exchanges uneasy glances, and Geto rolls his eyes and sighs before apologizing for Gojo.
“He just has a plan and wants to do something, guys.”
The boys nodded, seemingly satisfied with that answer.
“If you guys mess this up for me, I swear to god, I will make you wish you were never born,” Gojo says with his usual smile, but in this case, all his smile does is make him seem feral.
Geto slaps Gojo across the back of his head and huffs, “He doesn’t mean that, don't worry.”
“Oh, I fucking mean it.”
“Gojo, shut the fuck up.”
Before anyone else can say anything, the timer goes off, and into the last minutes of the game they go. As the game goes on, everyone is on the edge of their seat, even if deep down they know who will win. You and Utahime are no exception to this, but apparently Shoko is.
“Why the fuck are you guys on the edge of your seats? It's obvious we’re gonna win.”
You go to glare at her but can’t even hold your stare long enough because you're so enthralled by the game. “Still, it's so nervewracking!”
Utahime laughs. “I'm only on the edge of my seat because I want the other team to win.”
“Why are you such a hater, dude?” you ask defensively.
Utahime doesn’t mind; she knows all too well about your little crush on Gojo, so she doesn’t take offense to your tone. “When it comes to Gojo, I'm always a hater.”
You finally find it in you to glare at her. “I hope Shoko breaks up with you.”
She rolls her eyes and glares back. “Oh, haha, you're so mature.”
You say nothing but stick your tongue out at her childishly, and she does the same, to which Shoko groans and rolls her eyes before grabbing both of your heads and turning them to face the game.
“You can fight after the game; there's only a few seconds left.”
Gojo glances at the time and realizes it’s now or never. He finds that Geto has the ball and calls out for him. Geto, on the other hand, hesitates to pass him the ball, with a look on his face asking if he really wants to do this, and Gojo can only nod. How could he not want to do this? This is the only thing he can do; it's not like he knows how to ask someone out the normal way, so this will do; it has to. Gojo tries to control his breathing as he makes his way to the hoop, the ball dribbling in tune with his heartbeat, and nothing matters to him in that moment except you and scoring—his surroundings completely drowning out. Everyone holds their breath waiting for him to shoot, and right before he does, his eyes lock onto yours.
“This is for you, Y/N!” He yells out as he shoots, and…
And he misses.
Horribly.
And there's no chance for him to redeem himself because the minute the ball hits the ground, the buzzer goes off, indicating the end of the game, and everyone seemingly ignores whatever the fuck he just did and erupts into an uproar at the fact that they won regardless of Gojo’s miss.
“What-“
Shoko slaps a hand over her mouth, attempting and failing to hold in her laughter. “Did he just fucking miss?”
Utahime is hunched over, her head between her knees, laughing. “Oh my fucking god, he's an idiot!”
You blink, not moving, not saying anything, but with how hard Shoko is laughing and Utahime leaning against her as she laughs as well, Shoko ends up bumping into you, and she instantly grows quiet, her head snapping toward you.
“Oh, why are you still here?”
“Huh?” 
"Why aren’t you down there?” she asks, pointing down to the court.
“Am… Am I supposed to be?”
“Uh duh!” Utahime speaks up, peeking out from behind Shoko. “He made that shot for you! Well, he missed that shot for you.”
“Oh,” you say blankly. “Oh. Oh shit.”
You stood up abruptly, and with how fast you went down the bleachers, you almost tripped once you made it onto the ground. You quickly catch yourself, and the moment you look up to find Gojo, he’s already standing right in front of you.
“You're-you're wearing my jersey,” he says breathlessly, but not in a I-can’t-breathe way, more in a holy-shit-my-crush-is-actually-wearing-my-jersey way.
You swallow thickly and nod. Your gaze flickers down to the jersey before going back to his face. “I am.” 
“You are.” 
“What was that Gojo?”
He seems to grimace at your question. “Ah, well, you see, I was actually gonna say if I make this, you owe me a date, but that’s a really long sentence to shout, and what if I didn’t make it? That would’ve been so embarrassing.”
You laugh under your breath. “Gojo, you didn’t make it regardless.”
He frowns. “Don’t remind me.”
You smile and push a strand of hair stuck to his forehead out of the way, watching how he blushes furiously at your touch, and it makes your heart swoon. Who knew the confident number-one basketball player could crumble so readily under your touch?
“You know, I’m still more than happy to owe you a date.”
He smirks as he pulls you closer toward him by your waist and coos, “Yeah?"
“Yeah… But get the hell off of me, Gojo; you’re sweaty and you stink,” you grumble as you push against his chest, trying to free yourself.
Gojo ignores you and pulls you in closer (if even possible), his body engulfing yours as he rubs his face against yours, making sure his sweat rubs off on you too.
You struggle against his hold. “Gojo gross!” 
“Sorry, I can't hear you over the people. What are you saying? Hug you closer?”
“Gojo, don’t you dare.”
You hear him chuckle before rubbing up against you again, and you groan but stop resisting, which he hums happily at before starting to pull away. You watch how his face abruptly twists into feigned disgust.
"Ew, Y/N, get the hell off of me; you’re sweaty and you stink,” he mocks as he pushes you out of his hold.
“I hate you.”
“If you hated me, you wouldn’t be going on a date with me,” he singsongily says.
“Yeah, not anymore,” you mumble with a wry smile as you start walking away.
“Hey, wait, Y/N, come back!”
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©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD
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itadorey · 9 months
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𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐘
pairing: gojo satoru x reader summary: shoko lets something slip to gojo and nanami loses a whole lot of money. genre: fluff, attempts at humor wc: ~1.2k warnings: mentions of alcohol, lmk if i missed any more very much a word dump, apologies.
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"stare any harder and you're going to burn holes into nanami's head."
shoko's words draw gojo's attention away from you, and he shoots her a glare over his sunglasses before turning away.
"i'm not staring," gojo mutters, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms. he does his best to ignore shoko's amused looks, which isn't hard when he hears your laughter from across the room. his eyes flit over to you, watching as you toss your head back and laugh, one hand on nanami's arm as he sits next to you. there's a barely visible smile on the blonde man's face, and gojo finds himself scowling at the sight.
"c'mon, don't be like that," shoko chides, holding back laughter as she watches gojo pout. "you know nanami is their best friend."
"but i wanna be their best friend," gojo whines, looking back at shoko when you turn your head in their direction. she waves when she notices your gaze, smiling when she sees your gaze linger on gojo.
"no you don't!" shoko proclaims, shooting gojo a knowing look. "best friends don't usually want to kiss each other, for your information."
"i do not want to kiss them," gojo cries out, hesitating when he sees the blank look on shoko's face. he cringes slightly, straightening up before scoffing lightly. "i don't know what you're talking about."
"sure you don't."
"wait," gojo's embarrassment fades as a wide grin spreads across his face. he fixes shoko with a victorious look, blue eyes boring into her as he leans in. "you said 'each other'."
"w-what?" shoko asks, freezing as she realizes she's fucked up. she fidgets with her drink, avoiding his gaze as much as she can. "no i didn't."
"yes, you did," gojo replies, reaching over and stealing her glass. he takes a sip of the drink, face twisting in disgust when he realizes it's straight liquor. "ew! what is that? actually, don't answer that. it doesn't matter. anyways, you said 'best friends don't usually want to kiss each other' which implies that they also want to kiss me!"
"so you admit you want to kiss them?"
"yes!" gojo says, chest puffing up with pride as he takes a sip of his own drink this time. shoko swears she can see the excess sugar swirling in the supersaturated liquid. "but only because now i know they like me."
"oh god, what have i done," shoko breathes, downing what was left of her drink. gojo send her an incredulous look when she doesn't flinch and she chooses to ignore it in favor of rubbing her temples.
"this is great!" he says, swirling his cup around before offering it to shoko. she waves him off with a look of disgust. "so what is it that they like? my good looks? my strength? oh, i know! it has to be my charming personality!"
"gojo, please just shut up," shoko finally says, exasperation laced in her tone. "okay, fine. they like you. so what? it's not like you're gonna do anything about it."
she goes silent when gojo finishes off his drink, putting the glass down before dramatically slamming his palms on the table and standing up. there's a glint in his eye that makes shoko sigh, and she settles back into her seat, waving the waiter over and ordering double of whatever had been in her cup before.
there's a brief moment of confusion in nanami's eyes when gojo approaches the two of you, greeting you with a bright smile and merely sharing a head nod with him. gojo wastes no time in tilting his head towards the table shoko is still sitting at, sipping on her new drink as she watches the interaction unfolding in front of her.
"nanami! you need to go," gojo says, the smile on his face not leaving as he stares the blonde man down. "shoko needs you."
"she seems just fine on her own," nanami says coolly. he's noticed the way gojo hasn't stopped looking at you since you walked into the restaurant, and he definitely noticed the way his mood soured when you joined nanami for a drink at the bar. he can't help but push his senior's buttons even if it's just for a few minutes.
"no, no, no," gojo says, waving a finger in front of nanami's face. "she said she could outdrink you, and i couldn't just let her talk down on you like that! you need to go defend your honor."
there's a moment of silence as nanami stares blankly at gojo, blinking twice before letting out a deep sigh. he shares a confused glance before sliding off his seat, downing the rest of his drink before leaning in close to you.
"good luck with him."
he's gone before you can respond, and you watch him slip into gojo's old seat as the blue-eyed man takes the stool next to you. he waves the bartender over, ordering another round of drinks for you and a sugary soda for himself.
"how nice of you to defend nanami's honor," you say dryly, the smile on your face letting gojo know that you're not truly annoyed with his antics.
"well you know, i had to save you from those awful jokes of his."
"i dunno," you say, thanking the bartender when your drinks are placed in front of you. "i think nanami is hilarious. he's not bad company to keep."
gojo watches as you take a sip of your drink, blindly reaching for his own glass but not bringing it to his lips.
"but you're better."
those three words are enough to bring a soft smile to gojo's face, and he chuckles before taking the opportunity to lean in close to you.
"oh, am i now?"
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across the room, nanami and shoko watch as gojo tries to flirt with you.
"i bet you all the drinks it takes you to get drunk that he doesn't ask them out."
shoko gives nanami a dry look, her mouth twitching at the corners as she looks back to the bar. "you know what? i'll take the bet. something tells me it'll be different this time."
"you know something i don't," nanami says, his tone accusatory as he follows shoko's gaze. he's met with the sight of gojo's arm around your waist, a faint blush on his cheeks as you lean into him. nanami watches as gojo says something, his cheeks darkening even more as your eyes widen in surprise. there's a brief moment where time stands still, and it ends when you lean up and press a kiss wherever you can reach, which just so happens to be gojo's jaw.
"i might have let it slip to gojo that they like him," shoko admits, giving nanami a sly look. he scowls at her, shaking his head before letting out a soft sigh in resignation. shoko laughs at his reaction, already waving her hand to call the waiter over once more. there's only two glasses on the table so far, and nanami knows that shoko is no lightweight. he prepares himself for a long night as she turns to face him, a rare, mocking grin on her face.
"pay up, mr. salaryman."
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reblogs are appreciated &lt;3
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solarmorrigan · 3 months
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Hands Where I Can See Them, Part 6
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
The days pass like cold mud – slow, uncomfortable, and relentless.
But they do pass.
Eddie had said he could give Steve the time he needed, and he’d meant it; he would wait out the two weeks and be there on the other side to talk to him. To hope for a second chance.
They see each other here and there, mostly in passing: Steve comes to pick a few of the kids up from a gaming session; Eddie stops in at Family Video with Jeff, Gareth, and Oliver to grab a movie (where Jeff and Steve exchange a surprisingly friendly greeting); they occupy separate sides of the room at a group dinner.
Each time, Eddie is sure to at least acknowledge and wave at Steve, in spite of any protective hovering and scowling Robin might be doing if she happens to be present. Steve gives cautious nods in return at first, but as they near the deadline, he’s returning Eddie’s distant greetings with a hesitant smile and that ridiculous little finger-wiggle wave that Eddie had been reluctantly charmed by in the beginning.
And in the meantime, Eddie plots.
He is not, by nature, an optimist (strangely, between the two of them, that’s Steve’s area), but in this instance, he plans for the best: the idea that Steve will say yes and let Eddie take him on a proper date. And as improvisational as Eddie likes to be, he’s also a veteran dungeon master and plotter of all sorts of campaigns; if you want long-term plans to go off without a hitch, it pays to be prepared.
So, he plots.
He brainstorms and makes lists of all of Steve’s favorite things and schemes out elaborate romantic gestures and draws on all the knowledge he’s retained from the romcoms he’d whined about having to watch with Steve but had always given in over when Steve gave him that puppy-eyed look that Eddie has no defense against.
(And somehow, he’d continued to think they were just friends. His lack of awareness should be studied as a scientific anomaly.)
He thinks Steve would be proud of his accumulated work (and Eddie himself isn’t ashamed of it, but all the same, he makes sure to hide the notebook where none of the guys will ever, ever stumble across it, because they would never, ever let Eddie live it down).
In any case, the ticking down of two weeks finally comes to an end, and Eddie stands in front of the phone earlier than he’d normally care to be awake, hoping that his work will pay off.
Steve picks up before the fourth ring, just like he always does, and answers the phone like a dork, just like he always does.
“Harrington residence, Steve speaking.”
This is where Eddie normally makes a joke – says he’d been trying for the funeral home and asks if Steve happens to have a shovel and some time on his hands; says he thought he’d had the number for the Hawkins Gentleman’s Club and asks if Steve is much of a dancer; once, he’d even affected a terrible New York accent and spun some lines about how he’d been trying to call a speakeasy. He can always hear the laughter caught behind Steve’s dry responses to his nonsense, and he always loves it.
But now is not “normally,” and Eddie only just manages to sound like himself as he replies, “Steve. Just the Harrington I was hoping would speak.”
“Eddie,” is all Steve says for a moment; he sounds almost surprised, but not displeased. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Eddie says back. “So, I know punctuality has never been my strong suit, but it’s, uh. It’s been two weeks. Pretty much on the dot. And you said I should come talk to you again, so…”
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, no, did you – You can come over. If you want to talk, still,” Steve says – stammers, really, like he’s been caught off-guard, like he really hadn’t been expecting Eddie to call.
“Well, if I didn’t change my mind in two weeks, I’m not gonna change my mind in the fifteen minutes it takes to get to your house,” Eddie says.
“Sure,” Steve says, a little steadier now. “Yeah, I’ll see you in a bit, I guess.”
“You definitely will,” Eddie assures him. “See you in a bit, Steve.”
“Yeah. Yes. Bye, Eddie.”
It’s awkward, but – it’s something.
The only reason Eddie doesn’t break an egregious number of traffic laws on his way to Steve’s house is because he simply couldn’t bear the irony of getting arrested now, of all times. With his luck, he’d get sent up the river and Steve would be left waiting and waiting at his house before coming to the conclusion that Eddie had never really cared about him after all, only to be found surprised and jaded several years later when Eddie is finally released from prison and makes his first stop the Harrington house and – Christ, Eddie’s had romance on the brain too long. He’s going to have to binge reread Lord of the Rings or something to get his head back on straight.
He pulls his head out of the clouds and his van into the Harrington’s ridiculously massive driveway and heads up to the door with a vibrating surplus of energy sustained entirely by nerves and determination.
It seems like he’s not the only one running on anxiety power, though, based on how quickly the door opens after Eddie rings the bell.
It’s the first time Eddie’s really seen Steve up close since the trailer two weeks ago. He looks– better. He’s still tired, Eddie can tell; he’s got that slightly droopy look around his eyes and an almost painful set to his jaw that’s nearly impossible to spot if you don’t know what to look for – and most people don’t (but Eddie’s spent a lot of time learning Steve, even if he hadn’t picked up all the right tells). But he still looks better, and Eddie finds himself relieved.
“Hey, there,” he says, giving Steve a nod. “Just happened to be in the neighborhood, y’know. Thought I’d drop by.”
Steve shakes his head, a tiny smile quirking up at one corner of his mouth. “Come in, jackass.”
“Fine way to treat your guests,” Eddie drawls in return, gratified when Steve’s smile grows just a tiny bit more.
He takes off his shoes at the entryway (Steve hardly ever asks anyone to take off their shoes, because worrying about the state of your floors isn’t cool, but it bothers him all the same, and so Eddie takes them off) and follows Steve through to the living room, where they both perch awkwardly on the couch and sit in an equally awkward silence for about thirty seconds.
“So… you said I should come talk to you,” Eddie says finally.
“I did, yeah.” Steve nods.
“You said to tell you if this was still something I wanted,” Eddie goes on.
“I did, yeah,” Steve says again. “And… you’re here.”
“I told you I wouldn’t change my mind, Steve.” Eddie’s hand twitches, almost instinctively reaching out for a spot on Steve’s knee, or around his wrist, or threaded through his fingers, but he doesn’t think he can take Steve freezing up or pulling away again. “This – you, us – I still want it. I want to do it right. If you’ll give me the chance, I want to treat you how you should be treated.”
Steve nods. “Okay.”
Eddie blinks. “Okay? As in – just, yeah, okay?” He knows he’s not making much sense, but he’d been sort of prepared to have to make his case – to extol the virtues of the perfect dates he had planned, to sing the praises of all the things he knows now that he should appreciate about Steve, to lament the loss of trust and ease between them, but instead Steve is just sitting there, watching him with a funny sort of smile on his face.
“I was… I was never going to say no, Eddie.” Steve shrugs. “I just really needed you to think about it. To make sure this—a real relationship with… with me—is really what you wanted. Because if it’s not, if you took it back again, I don’t think I’d– I just really needed you to be sure.”
“Steve,” Eddie says, low and serious, “I have never been more sure of anything in my life. A real relationship with you is exactly what I want.”
Steve’s smile twitches, changes into something a little more familiar, a little warmer. “Okay.”
“You’re never gonna regret it, sweetheart,” Eddie says, can’t help bouncing a little in his seat as his nerves turn to excitement, to elation. “I have the corniest, most romantic dates planned, I swear, I’m going to knock your socks off. We’ll unlock your inner Molly Ringwald.”
Rolling his eyes, Steve shakes his head at Eddie. “You really don’t have to do all that. I’m not– putting you through a trial, or whatever, we can just go back to what we were doing, right? Just with… I dunno, more awareness.”
“Noooo, no.” Eddie shakes his head right back. “You said you didn’t want to pretend nothing ever happened, and you shouldn’t have to. I want to do this, Steve. Let me take you on a real date.”
Something unreadable flashes across Steve’s face, and suddenly his smile is wrong again. Sort of plastic – like he’s trying, but it’s not quite reaching his eyes. But before Eddie can ask what’s wrong, Steve is shrugging.
“If you insist…”
“I most certainly do,” Eddie says firmly. “I’m gonna romance the shit out of you.”
At that, Steve releases a helpless snort of laughter, and the plastic smile is gone, blown away by a real one.
“You’re making a super good argument for it,” Steve says, and Eddie grins.
“Aren’t I?” He bats his eyelashes. “So tell me: you free on Friday night?”
“I’m working, actually. Someone has to dole out dumb romances to other people out on dates,” Steve says drily, as if he himself hasn’t seen most of the films he’s maligning.
Eddie hums. “Saturday?”
“I could probably get someone to cover my shift,” Steve hedges, teasing and flirty and everything Eddie’s missed in the last few weeks.
“So you’ll be free?” Eddie asks.
“As a bird – as long as that bird isn’t a robin, considering who’s going to have to cover for me,” Steve says, and Eddie pulls a grimace.
“Yeah, maybe don’t tell her why you need the shift covered. I get the feeling she wouldn’t be as agreeable if she knew I was involved,” he says.
“I don’t think Robin’s ever been agreeable in her life, and she’d probably resent the accusation.” Steve smirks. “But as long as she doesn’t think I’m sneaking away to see you, and if I take the Monday morning shift she really hates, I don’t think it’ll be a problem. Let’s plan for Saturday?”
“Saturday it is!” Eddie pops up off the couch, both unwilling to sour the mood by overstaying his welcome, and suddenly overflowing with the need to set preparations in motion. “Six o’clock, sharp! I’ll pick you up.”
“Do I get to know where we’re going?” Steve asks, one eyebrow cocked.
“Absolutely not. The surprise is part of the experience,” Eddie says.
“Dress code, at least?” Steve wheedles, and Eddie supposes that’s fair.
“Casual. And bring a jacket,” Eddie says.
Both of Steve’s brows go up now, as he rises from the couch to follow Eddie back out towards the door. “Telling someone to bring outerwear to a date is usually a red flag, man,” he says, watching as Eddie shoves his shoes back on.
“But you love being outside,” Eddie counters, glancing up at Steve with a grin.
“I,” Steve pauses, blinking at him. “I guess.”
“And no more hints,” Eddie says, rising from the floor and reaching for the door handle. “I’ll see you on Saturday?”
“Yeah,” Steve says, his voice warming around a small, pleased smile, “I’ll see you on Saturday.”
“Can’t wait.” Eddie throws one last grin at him before stepping out into the brisk, late fall air.
He doesn’t stop smiling the whole way home.
Part 7
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