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#there was a small pause before he realised
grimm-writings · 2 days
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hello! <3 i read your dungeon meshi stuff and it was great!! is it alright if i request some relationship headcanons with chilchuk? preferably with a male s/o, but gn is alright too! thank you sm! i hope you have a good day.
chilchuck relationship headcanons!!
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…ft! chilchuck x m! reader
…tags! fluff, mentions of chilchuck's wife, chilchuck bisexuality crisis, teeny weeny hurt/comfort, talk of marriage, just word vomit tbh
…wc! 1561 (UHM...)
…notes! m! reader food come get it!!!!!!!! thank you for giving me the opportunity to go crazy stupid with this request anon i love chil so much is it obvious yet
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Ok let’s get one thing straight.
(He isn’t.  Haha.)
But!  In all seriousness, Chilchuck has one thing he needs to do before considering a committed relationship.
Yep, even with all the longing glances, late night conversations, and helping each other learn and grow, he has to delay the fruition of your relationship until after everything after the dungeon dies down.
Well… he just needs to talk to his past lover first.  He needs to have a long, long conversation with her, and he’ll be sure to mention you too.
He relays this to you during the great feast privately.  Despite his nervousness, the sigh of relief that escapes him is noticeable.  His shoulders slack and he closes his eyes.  Finally, it’s off his chest.
Before we talk about the actual relationship, though, let’s talk about stuff that happened during the pining phase!  Yay!
Chilchuck only had one flame his entire life, and that was his childhood friend.  He never really ‘dated’, never really had any sort of time to explore his feelings for anyone else.
To put it plainly, he had no idea he was into guys.
“I dunno, Senshi was always kind of handsome,” Chilchuck notes with Laios, and his doppelganger nods in agreement. You and Marcille pause for a second, processing the words the two men said.  Like a house pet that has certain opinions regarding these sorts of people, you side-eye one another. “How would you know that?”  You challenge. In response, one of the Chilchucks glances over at you – the more tired looking one – and he shrugs.  “Not anyone would have the kinda bold look in his eyes he has.  The pinnacle of masculinity,” he huffs with a small grin, as if daydreaming of the very such thing. You have no words.  You quite simply don’t.
It’d be a major “oh FUCK” moment when he does realise.  Honestly the entire realisation of feelings for Chilchuck is Good Medicine but times a billion.
He’s pacing he’s pulling at his hair he’s questioning how the HELL did this happen.
If he has a pillow he is screaming into it more often than he normally does.
If you’re more on the masculine side, or are a dwarf, this man is a right mess around you.
Like he’s stammering constantly and hates himself for it.  Constantly red in the face around you and has to excuse himself.
But like . Not in a gay way or anything.
(Seriously if you think how he avoids his friends is ridiculous, this is eleven times worse.)
It takes some time, but I can imagine there’s a moment in the dungeon where you kissed at least once.
Chilchuck is the one to break away first, his eyes wide and face beet red.  It doesn’t take long for him to take his hands away from where they were, interlaced with yours, to hold his face and drag his skin down in dread. “...Did you like it?”  You nervously ask.  He’s the king of mixed signals… The half-foot nods slowly, still looking like he experienced some form of unwanted enlightenment.  “Yuh–huh,” he squeaks. You smile.  That’s good enough for you.
Marcille definitely picks up on SOME tension though.  She’s oddly observant of that sort of thing.
Once you actually reveal to the party that you’re seeing each other post-canon, Marcille disrespectfully shouts “I KNEW IT!”
As Chilchuck and her have an arguing match about that, you’ll look at Laios who looks shocked.  He had no idea.  Some things never change.
Senshi and Falin are normal and actually just congratulate you.  Give them hugs for me.
BUT FINALLY ONTO ACTUAL RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS!!!!!! (This is like 600 words so far.)
He’s still uneasy about a lot of things.  He has a deep-rooted fear of messing this up again.
When the relationship is established he might distance himself for a bit.  Not on purpose, mind you, he’s just… not sure of what to do, and he’d rather not do anything at all than mess up.
Chilchuck no that in turn is messing up noo!!!!
You’d have to tell him this and he’ll try and turn his behaviour around instantaneously.  He’ll be nervous and frustrated with himself, but take it slow and he’ll come around eventually.
His nicknames are … unique.
He’ll use stuff like “idiot” with the greatest affection in his eyes and a soft grin, but he’ll say “hey handsome” with the most dripping sarcasm and sneer.  Why is he like this—
Play with his strands of grey hair and he’s so flustered, swatting your hand away.  If he’s tired and cuddling into you, though, he… well, he wouldn’t mind it.
Speaking of cuddling!  He didn’t really do much like cuddling in his previous relationship, to your surprise.  He just shrugs and says he and his old flame weren’t that kind of people.
This is how you inadvertently find out Chilchuck is a wombo combo of touch starved and too embarrassed by it to do anything about it.  How does he live…?
He knows himself if you’re not a half-foot that him being a big spoon is too ridiculous of a notion.  Yeah, he immediately assumes he has to be the one spooning you.  He realises with time though that he… drastically prefers being in your arms.  Feeling secure, loved…  He really really likes it.
Not like you can ever get him to admit it verbally.
(You can still see it from how he relaxes into you and smiles as he drifts off into dreamland.)
It’s been a long day, and Chilchuck wants nothing more than to see you.  You look up from where you were sitting when your boyfriend enters the house and smile.  “Good evening, love.” God, your smile.  If he didn’t know he’d be coming home to this, then the work day wouldn’t have been worth it.  He sighs and smiles, walking to you and immediately falling onto your lap.  His face tucks itself into your stomach and his arms wrap around your middle. “Hm, someone’s tired,” you remark with a grin.  Chilchuck merely groans into your form. Sparing him from any teasing, you card your fingers through your hair.  You can already feel how he melts into you as he loses consciousness. You lean down and kiss the shell of his ear.  “Sweet dreams, Chil.”
For a long time, he struggles with actually calling you his boyfriend.  It’s not like he’s ashamed of you, it’s just…  It’s always been “my wife” for such a long time.  He still can’t quite fathom this change in his life.  That you’re his and he’s yours.
Eventually, he’ll be the one to proudly proclaim “my boyfriend!” when he gets the chance to mention you.  He’s quite proud of the fact he’s got you, after all.
His kisses are usually quick and brief pecks on your temple or if he’s not in reach, your hand or shoulder.  
Ugh can you imagine him taking your hand and giving a kiss to the back of it?  And you can feel his thumb ghost over your knuckles reassuringly before wishing you farewell to work?  Dying dead.
Kiss him and he’s always taken aback every time.  He still won’t be able to comprehend it no matter how many times you’ve done it.
(To be slightly on the more suggestive side… really likes making out when in the mood.  He can do that for hours with him on top of you.  Though he wouldn’t mind being underneath if he considers it…)
He daydreams more often than he likes, especially early in the relationship.  He’ll feel ridiculous for it, like some lovestruck schoolboy but… well, yeah, he IS utterly enamoured with you!  Don’t be surprised if you catch him staring at you or checking you out in some way.  Call him out, and he’ll flush with a furrowed brow and glance away.
His love language mostly comes in the form of acts of service.  Although there’s a slight bit of gift giving too.  He likes giving you wordworks or embroidery he made if he knows you like it.  Maybe he’ll make you a teddy or ragdoll if you’re into that!
You also get Chilchuck thinking about the impossible after a while.  He doesn’t try to make a big deal out of it, but it’s kinda hard when…
“I think I can give marriage a second chance,” Chilchuck says out of the blue to you one relaxing night in bed.  His hair is messed up by you burying your head into it, and your lover is tucked into your chest, holding onto your waist. His words certainly catch you off guard, and for once Chilchuck doesn’t make a thing out of being the one to fluster you for once.  Instead, he tucks his nose into your neck and sighs.  “I just…” he pauses for a few seconds.  “I think I can do it right this time.  If you’re here with me.  I think I can do it.” The silence is thick with a kind of tenderness you’d only associate with the colour pink.  It’s deep and you can feel your face glow in the heat. You pull Chilchuck closer and kiss his head. “I’d really like that Chilchuck.  I really would.” He chuckles slightly at the soft sensation, closing his eyes again. “Thank you,” he says, “I mean it.  I couldn’t have made it this far without you.”
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sttoru · 9 months
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“NO PANTIES? NO PROBLEM!”
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༄ sypnosis. what if you were in public with your lover and decide to tease him by informing him that you aren’t wearing any underwear under your skirt? how would he react and what will he do about it?
༄ note. got a bit too crazy while thinking abt jjk men. i need them in my drawrs and asap .. ehem, anyways, hope you enjoy; this includes headcanons + drabbles.
༄ tags. dom!satoru, suguru, kento and toji x sub!female reader (seperately). handjob, semi-public, cursing, doesn’t really fuck you but it’s implied (satoru) | teasing, edging, small tiny bit of fingering (suguru) | footjob but not actually a footjob because he just teases you with his shoe, implied unprotected sex (nanami) | dirty talk, cursing, size difference, implied blow job, talks of belly bulging + creampies + virginity (toji). you’re in public in all scenarios. dirty talk in all of them.
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GOJO SATORU.
definitely would get hard the minute you whisper that you aren’t wearing any panties underneath your skirt. like; he’d pause anything he was doing, freeze on spot and feel the blood stream to his cheeks.
stammers a bit and tries to regain composure, flashing you a sheepish smile before dismissively waving your words off. satoru will think that he’s heard you wrong and that he simply just has one hell of a dirty mind, because why would his girlfriend say that out of nowhere? there’s no way.. right?
even though it might look like he brushed it off, he’s literally non-stop thinking about your (possible) words. satoru has to check for himself if it was his imagination playing games with him or not. next thing you know, you’re being dragged into the nearest changing room.
“lift your skirt up, baby.” satoru says while looking a bit perplexed, or rather; impatient. his gaze was locked on your bare thighs and his mind was drowned in lewd thoughts.
“so impatient.” you giggle to yourself.
you knew that this would exactly be how he’d react and that’s why you said what you said earlier. your hands move to the hem of your skirt before slowly lifting it up.
there it was; the confirmation satoru was searching for. his eyes widened in realisation that it wasn’t his imagination. you were actually not wearing anything underneath.
“..oh, fuck.” a shaky curse left your boyfriend’s throat. the fact that your sweet pussy was just on display for him like that has him sweating buckets.
satoru gulped as his hands slightly trembled out of utter disbelief, yet also of exhilaration.
he reached out to hold you in his arms, though stopped midway and clamped one hand on his mouth instead—the other resting on his hip. satoru took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut to regain his self control which he clearly lacked at the moment.
“what? i did as you said.” you tease, tilting your head while feigning innocence by batting your eyelashes at the tall man in front of you.
satoru had his head tilted back, making it unable to look into his eyes. he stared at the ceiling in the changing room before looking back at you with an unreadable expression. something that contained a mix between lust and longing.
“turn around,” was all that he muttered and you smirked. biting your lip, you did as told and supported yourself by holding onto the wall of the changing room—hips pushed back a little to give him a proper view of your ass.
you heard the familiar sound of a zipper being undone and a moment later you felt a warm hand rest on your ass, firmly kneading the flesh.
“fuckin’ hell. look at you.” satoru grunted, one hand on your ass while the other was pumping his throbbing cock, “i can cum from just seeing that ass of yours.”
you could catch a glimpse of satoru’s hand moving frantically over his length, looking like he was about to ejaculate right there by just groping your ass and staring at how the flesh spilled between his fingers.
with a slight groan, he stopped any movement and held you by your hips, positioning the tip right at your entrance while finally meeting your eyes; this time with a slight grin tugging at his glossy lips;
“but that wouldn’t be fair to my needy girl, would it? after all, she must’ve desperately wanted to get fucked if she decided to not wear any panties today.”
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GETO SUGURU.
almost chokes on his coffee as you two sat in a cozy café, the interior pure and innocent which was a complete opposite to your lewd whispers. suguru turns his head to look at you, eyes wide and lips slightly parted.
poor guy is baffled, however he quickly clears his throat after a second of processing the information given. suguru would look around, checking if there were any eyes on you two. there were a few other customers chatting away, but no attention was on you. it was also a good thing that you two were seated in a corner near the back of the place.
he’ll turn his head to you, leaning in so that his lips were near your ear as his hand moved up to cup your cheek. suguru starts off whispering sweet nothings, though those quickly turn into something erotic.
“honey, don’t you think it’s a bit too much?” suguru whispers, his soft voice sounding like music to your ears, “i mean, teasing me in public is quite the bold move.”
a shiver runs down your spine as you feel his hand—which was cupping your cheek lovingly—slide down and become more daring.
“i don’t think it was a smart one, however.” suguru chuckles, subtly moving his tongue against your earlobe. he left a small trail of his saliva on the skin while his hand moved down to rest right above your chest.
he grazed your collarbone with his fingertips. his touch was light and it felt as if he was barely touching you, though the receiving sensations felt the exact opposite.
“i’ve always liked this saying,” suguru continues, voice keeping it’s soft tone while his fingers slithered downwards to trace over the swell over your breasts, “what goes around, comes around.”
you gulp once you notice the look in suguru’s eyes now that he’s so close to you. it was a gentle one, yet there was an undeniable sense of danger hidden underneath that gaze of his. the perfect balance between the two sides of his personality.
his fingers slid down to your waist and then your abdomen, eventually reaching beneath the fabric of your skirt. suguru slowly massaged one of your thighs before sliding his hand upwards. that movement came to halt once it arrived at the wet spot between your legs.
“oh, sweetie.” suguru sighs while he let one finger slightly rub against your folds, spreading your slick all over your cunt. “what ever shall i do with you..”
it was a shame he couldn’t see what he’s doing, although he could use his vivid imagination to create an image in his mind.
you tried your best to keep your moans to yourself. that you were able to, although you couldn’t stop squirming on your seat every now and then. the feeling of your boyfriend’s fingers rubbing up and down your pussy and his thumb putting pressure on your clit—it was almost too much to bear.
suguru himself couldn’t help the quiet groan that escaped his lips. the wetness on his fingers as he used them to stimulate your clit and play with your cunt underneath your skirt had him wanting to fuck you right then and there.
suddenly, you felt one finger of his slide into you, causing you to let a small moan slip out of your mouth. suguru hissed and took his finger out again which left your needy hole clenching onto nothing.
“did you actually think that i’d give you what you want so easily? use that sweet voice of yours and beg me for it.”
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NANAMI KENTO.
you probably won’t get a visible reaction nor a direct response to your seductive words at first. kento would fall silent as he sipped on his drink, looking at the red liquid in his wine glass before up at you—who sat opposite of him in one of his favourite restaurants.
you’d think he may have not heard you, since he only raised an eyebrow afterwards. in reality, kento had heard everything loud and clear. he’s really just keeping up his calm facade. it’s not his thing to act out in public after all.
you aren’t going to repeat your words either; that’d be too embarrassing. so, you keep up your conversation going while talking about the food you’re eating.
kento silently looks at the wine in his glass again as you talk. if you looked closely, he’s clenching his jaw as if he’s pissed off at something. better said in this situation; he’s holding himself back.
“do you like your food?” you ask as if you hadn’t just revealed that you weren’t wearing anything under your skirt.
the blonde man opposite of you put down his glass and picked up his utensils, cutting the steak on his plate. you noticed how hard he was gripping onto the fork— the veins on his hand looked like they could burst from under his skin.
“yes. it is quite delicious.” he replies in his deep voice as he put a piece of food in his mouth. kento was trying to keep his cool, “how about you, dear? do you like the dish?”
you nod happily before continuing to eat your ordered meal. kento really didn’t seem affected by your words. maybe he hadn’t heard or maybe he wasn’t pleased by them.
that’s what you thought, however your train of thoughts was quickly interrupted when you felt his shoe graze against your leg underneath the table.
you guessed that it could’ve been an accident, yet there it was again; the vamp of his dress shoe sliding up your leg and even touching your bare inner thigh.
kento seemed as unbothered as ever while he took a sip from his drink, “it’s not appropriate to tease a man in public.”
he leaned his upper body forward to be able to whisper the next words which were only meant for your ears. you could hear his voice gain a bit of desire and heat while he spoke; “if i had known that you weren’t wearing any panties when we left the house, i wouldn’t have allowed you to leave before properly fucking you, sweetheart.”
that dirty sentence left you speechless. the sweet nickname at the end added a nice contrast to the erotic words uttered beforehand. you couldn’t help but feel yourself get turned on at that.
in the meantime, kento was slowly getting frustrated at the situation; he wanted to get up, drag you to the restroom or his car to rip those clothes off you and feel your walls cling onto his cock, however he also wanted to enjoy your current date as it is.
he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, showing more of his arms and the visible veins on them.
you hadn’t even noticed that you were slowly starting to rub your thighs together at the sight of your boyfriend sitting there—looking a bit mad, yet also hot and bothered. kento loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top button of his blouse was the cherry on top.
kento noticed you slowly squirming in your seat, his eyes following your hand that disappeared under the velvet table cloth. that was his last straw.
he called a waiter over for the bill and then turned towards you, feeling his erection push against the fabric of his pants, just desperately waiting to be freed.
“do not dare and touch yourself. we’re going to the car and i want you in the backseat, immediately. understood?”
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FUSHIGURO TOJI.
will chuckle at your provocative confession like it was the most normal thing to hear in public from your lover. toji would be walking with you, one hand intertwined with yours while the other was in his front pocket. his green eyes were focused on the scenery in front of you; the only reaction being the breathy chuckle and the slight smirk on his lips.
toji absolutely loves it whenever you’d do or say stuff like that. the thrill of doing anything sexual in public only excited him more—his cock would instantly swell up every time. toji also has no problem with rubbing his growing bulge through the front pocket of his jeans.
he would ask you to tell him more. toji would definitely get off just by rubbing his dick through his pants as you talked dirty to him. he’s also not hiding what he’s doing with that one hand in his pocket. hell, knowing you’re aware of his actions gives him even more reason to continue stroking himself.
“ah fuck—should’ve known you’d pull some shit like that.” toji grunts under his breath while he slowly rubbed his throbbing erection through his pants.
he was in his own world at that point; his mind instantly filled with images from previous nights. toji was desperate to feel you wrapped around him, your pussy filled with loads of his cum, your face stained with tears while he continues to forcefully slam his cock as deep as it goes inside you.
“bet you’re drippin’, ain’t ya?” toji whispers between low groans, talking to you but also to himself, “i could probably slip my dick inside of that tight cunt with ease.”
you were indeed feeling yourself get wet at the thought; even more by the fact that toji was shamelessly telling you all that stuff as he’s walking with you. you’d feel embarrassed by his actions if it was busy on the streets, yet to your luck, it wasn’t since it was late in the evening.
“ngh.. need you.” you whisper, breathing a bit more heavily as you caught a glimpse of toji’s hand moving in slow strokes underneath the fabric of his trousers. you really just wanted to suck him off.
“i know you do, doll.” toji bites his bottom lip as his eyes glance from the visible bulge in his pants to you. you looked so small compared to him; he could easily pick you up, pin you against a nearby wall and just ravage you.
that reminds him of the first time he had sex with you. you were so innocent and inexperienced, fully trusting him to guide you and be careful with you. he remembers the way you sobbed and how beautiful you looked underneath him as you took him in—
and the subtle yet apparent bulge in your lower abdomen which showed how deep his thick cock was penetrating you.
“fuck.” toji sighed deeply as that image intruded his thought process. he tilted his head back a bit, taking a deep breath while keeping his hand moving underneath his pants, this time more rapidly.
he couldn’t wait anymore. toji just had to have you, one way or another.
you felt yourself get dragged forward like a ragdoll as toji pulled you ahead towards an abandoned side alley. he was determined to relieve himself; whether it’d be with the use of your pussy or mouth.
“c’mere,” he grunts, getting you into that alley with him before impatiently pulling the zipper of his pants down, “y’re gonna suck me off like a good little girl, yeah?”
you gulp and nod before looking left and right to see if anyone would have a chance to see what you were about to do. that’s when you spotted a bar; filled with drunk people and loud music on the opposite side of the street.
you hesitated a little as your mind wandered to the possibilities of anyone catching you two. even if the possibilities were low since the bar was quite a distance away and there was a brick wall slightly covering you both.
toji noticed your worried stares and chuckled to himself. he gently lifted your chin up so you would be able to look him in the eyes;
“would ya rather i fuck you against the window of that bar and show everyone how good you can take my cock? no? then just be a good girl for me and get on your knees.”
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mari-the-bimbo · 4 months
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Heyyyyyy!!! 🩷 headcannons for ex husband Nanami and choso who are still in love with you
Ex husband Nanami
A/N: Hello my lovelies!! I hope you’re all doing well and a late seasons greetings!
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It’s something you should’ve known to be honest. Nanami Kento is a workaholic and it was bound to lead to the end of your marriage.
However, ex husband Nanami is different. His fixation and obsession is hidden under the disguise of a distinguished gentleman. He’s too kind, too sweet, it’s makes you constantly question yourself until you’re spiralling, and he knows it.
Respectful. That’s how the women in your life gush about him. He pays child support, and he also pays you a separate large sum of money just to spoil yourself with.
He adores his children. Picking them up single-handedly and presses kisses to their small faces, they giggle joyfully at their daddy’s affection. He half heartedly reminds them not to give mummy trouble.
He still refers to you with terms of endearment. ‘Dear, love, sweetheart’ are words you’re used to by now. Did he used to refer to you like that during your marriage? You’re so gaslighted you can’t even remember anymore.
Nanami is too good at making you feel like you made a mistake by divorcing him.
“So how’s that new boyfriend of yours?” he’ll ask at dinner, after he insisted that he wants to spend more time with the children.
“Um- well.. we’re not really taking things-“
“Oh dear.. another failed relationship?” He says with fake concern and you feel your ears getting hot in anger, making you miss the small smirk on his face. “I’m sure you’ll meet someone good eventually dear” he says so sickeningly sweet, it makes you want to cry in self pity.
“I don’t need your pity!” You eventually snap, pausing when you realise you seem erratic.
He sighs patronisingly. Before reaching his big hand out to caress your face. You pull away, even though you know you’re close to being putty in his hands.
“Oh love.. don’t be like that. I know you’re just sexually frustrated, do you want me to help you?” He asks.
And that’s how the cycle begins.
‘No’ you always stutter at first until he stands up and towers over you, caresses your face, pressing his thumb to your lips and then kisses the area of his thumb your lip touched, he lets you feel his bulge, he whispers how he’ll always be there for you along with other sweet nothings, he shushes you whenever you try to protest, harshly reminding you the children are asleep.
You always end up being fucked by your ex husband in your own bed. Screaming when his dick hits the perfect spot, after all who would know your sweet spots if not the man you were married to? You pull on his blonde strands as he moans so dirtily in your ear.
You always wake up the next morning asking why you did that to yourself but when you feel the strong muscular arms wrap around you, you suddenly don’t feel guilty.
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hurthermore · 18 days
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»»------► 𝙱𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚘 (18+)
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▻ 𝙱𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚘 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸 (18+) ▻ 𝙱𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚘 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟹 (18+)
Summary: 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚘 𝙳𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚘 𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜?
Word Count: 𝟸.𝟼𝚔
Warnings: 𝙸 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚖; 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍, 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎. 𝙰𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚕 >.<
𝙵/𝙼 𝚂𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚌𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚜, 𝚞𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗, 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚟 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎, 𝚗𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚍𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚜, 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚋𝚊𝚍, 𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝
(𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚡 𝚜𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎)
𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗!
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You had only been there for a damn week.
A week.
Yet you had somehow flourished emotions within the Radio Demon that he had never even slightly experienced before.
The worst part?
You were what the younger generation called a ‘Bimbo Bitch’.
It didn’t make sense to Alastor as to why you out of everyone alive - and dead - made him feel like a pathetic idiot with a crush. Throughout his life on earth he had hundreds of women at his beck and call, fawning over him due to his celebrity status as one of America's biggest southern radio hosts in the late 1920s. Even in death, dozens upon dozens of women had expressed interest in him, even some of the most elegant of sinners had pursued him, yet he always lacked the interest in the act of courting. Still, he knew there would be a day when he would find the woman of his dreams.
So when he realised that the woman of his dreams was you, he felt disoriented, questioning everything he had come to know. The most beautiful woman he had laid eyes on; the woman who made him desire things he had never yearned for before, was you; a woman who lacked vocal sophistication and wore tight, revealing clothes that could rival half the garments the spider-like porn actor wore.
But despite how pissed off he wanted to be about it, how much he wanted to hate you for bringing these emotions out of him, he just couldn’t force himself to feel any disdain for you. Especially when you’d call for him in that whiny tone that sent pleasant shivers down his spine, the same one that made him want to thrust your face into a mattress as he bred you.
He remembered when you first came into the hotel. He genuinely thought you arrived in your underwear, only for him to find out what crop tops and booty shorts were.
He was appalled to say the least.
But it didn't stop him from appreciating your figure whenever you graced him with your presence.
And yet again he found you, wearing a skimpy little outfit of a crop top and one of those silly little skirts of yours, all whilst sitting sideways on his chair in the lobby of the hotel. Your knees pressed up against your breasts; squishing them so hard that the fat of your chest was begging to pop out of the flimsy revealing top as you reached towards your pointed feet with a small brush.
It was difficult for Alastor to repress the groan that begged to leave his throat as his eyes peeked a glance at your underwear; red. Red and skimpy. He could feel himself throb just by looking at you. “Good evening my darling!” He decided to appear from the shadows behind his chair you were situated on before leaning over it to admire you inspect what you were doing. “What are you doing, my dear?” He asked you with a delighted tone that he found himself reserving purely for you.
He watched you pause as you heard his voice, redirecting your attention on him as you rested your legs back onto the arm chair, giving your chest some air to breathe. “Hey Al!” You beamed with a sharp toothed grin that made Alastors undead heart skip a beat. “I’m painting my nails, you want me to do your claws? I have like ten different colours! OH! We should so paint yours pink! You’d look so good!” 
He chuckled at the idea of him with pink nails; preposterous. He was the Radio Demon, an entity that devoured anyone who crossed him, a being who broadcasted the screams of thousands of souls to millions of listeners all because he enjoyed it; and here was you; a pretty little dame asking him if you could paint his claws… Pink.
“Apologies my darling but that is an activity I prefer not to partake in.” His toothed smile twitched as your face slowly contorted into one of disappointment.
It definitely didn't make him feel guilty.
“C’mon Al! If you really don’t want pink I guess I could do them black or white to match your theme? Pretty please?” You pouted, allowing your lips to puff out as your eyes looked skyward to meet his gaze. Alastor’s smile twitched as he felt a heat rise within his lower abdomen from looking at your perfect form. You must be aware on some level what you were doing to him. Right?
Despite the Radio Demon hating the idea of having his claws painted, the idea of disappointing you; the act of refusing you to touch him as you caressed his hands and claws was something he found he hated more. 
So he gave in.
“I will permit you to paint my claws my darling, but you are to do it in red and you will not relay this event to anyone else. Do you understand?” His face closed in on yours to the point where you couldn’t see anything but him.
Your eyes glanced down to his hands that rested atop his cane, your eyebrows contorting into confusion. “But… Your claws are already red?”
Alastor’s smile twitched ever so slightly, to the point where you didn’t even notice. 
He had hoped you wouldn’t of noticed.
“Then I will permit you to paint them black, ma chérie.” Immediately you stood up, revealing your smaller structure compared to the seven foot frame the Radio Demon possessed. You grabbed his hands - much to his delight - and he allowed you to drag him over to the opposite side of the chair, guiding him to sit on it. He obliged, allowing you to dictate every move; something he had never permitted anyone else in his entire existence.
Momentarily he closed his red eyes, basking in the warmth your hands emitted into his cold skin, only for him to startle them open when you sat on his lap. His eyes met yours as you smiled smugly, waving the black nail polish in his face.
It wasn’t what he was expecting, to have your soft body flush against his; your clothed core meeting his own, making him melt from the contact. But he was assured that he could live the rest of his existence happy and content if it meant having you slotted in his lap forever.
“Okay, gimme your hand.” You beamed as you offered your delicate palm to him, waiting for him to concede his hand to you. Hesitantly, he obliged, snaking his fingers against yours, allowing you to grip your soft hand around one of his fingers as you began painting his sharp tipped claws.
As you recoated your brush before tending back to his claws, Alastor felt your core brush against his, making him bite back a moan, keening in a way that had him wishing you’d do it again. Slowly, he outstretched his unoccupied hand towards the curve of your waist as he felt himself harden underneath you.
Although usually a collected and composed man, Alastor was struggling. You had barely begun working on his second claw before his hand finally made contact with your bare waist, making you jump ever so slightly at the contact, accidentally grinding yourself against his now hard member.
Alastor groaned as you stilled against him. He refused to look at you, he wasn’t ready to see what type of expression adorned your face. Would you be repulsed? Or would you be as aroused as him? “Alastor..?” He heard you mumble; your voice sounding slightly erotic. Would you reciprocate his feelings? Slowly, he rested his head in the comfort of your chest, sighing as he could feel the fast beating of your heart before tightening his grip on you. He couldn’t control himself; not when you fit so perfectly in his lap, not when you were making him feel so stimulated just by moving against his constrained cock. “Fuck, Alastor-” You moaned as he forced you to grind against him as he placed his other hand against the fat of your hips; his claws still wet from the polish.
“Such a naughty girl.” He groaned as he leaned back away from your chest, viewing the debauched expression that etched your face, biting your bottom lip as your eyes half lidded. “I was hoping to court you first, but you’re making this so hard.” He mumbled, slamming you further into his clothed throbbing cock, causing the texture of his trousers to rub against your clit.
Suddenly, he gripped the back of your neck, pulling you closer until his lips connected with yours. He could hear you panting as you opened your mouth, allowing him to explore the tastes your mouth had to offer him. He felt like he could attain heaven as you showed your want of him. The closest he’d ever get to the place.
As he kissed you, the need to hear you moan had him grinding into you harder, trying to elicit more of those sounds from you. But when you didn’t, he gripped the front of your throat, punctuating his claws into your skin, forcing you to bend backwards as a black tentacle wrapped itself around your waist, preventing you from falling off of Alastor’s lap. He groaned as he watched your skirt ride up your thighs, revealing your drenched red lingerie to him.
Without thought, he ripped the red fabric in two, growling as your cunt glistened before him. Both of his hands pierced into the chunk of your thighs, causing you to whimper as he dragged your sex into his face. The position forced your posture upside down, making all the blood rush to your head as Alastor finally smashed his face into your puffy cunt, penetrating his fat tongue inside you. You moans vibrated off the walls of the parlour room, and you had completely forgotten where you were and what you were doing before this as Alastor’s mouth seemed to cover the entirety of your sex. His tongue thrusting in and out of you whilst the top of his mouth simulated a suction like sensation, stimulating your clit in the process.
His ears twitched with every moan, every cry of his name that left your wet lips, and every squelch that your cunt produced. He never thought this could taste so good. He had eaten many people throughout his life, being a cannibal and all, but not once had he eaten someone in such a way, and he couldn’t deny that this was his new favourite dish; the juices of your cunt.
As your legs began to press against the sides of his head, he could feel the tremors that passed through your plumped thighs, and with how your moans kept increasing in volume, it was obvious to Alastor you were nearing orgasm. It had him feeling heated; your whole lower half crushing his head, almost preventing him from breathing as he ate you out. But oh did he find it incredibly erotic. He couldn’t prevent the build up of his own orgasm as he kept drinking the essence of your cunt. 
Once he heard you basically scream in pleasure, your sex convulsing around his tongue, and your clit throbbing against his teeth, he allowed himself to ejaculate within the confines of his pants, his cock pulsed with every splat that left his tip. He moaned into you, overstimulating you in the process. You tried to pull away, tried to tell Alastor it was too much, but he kept you against his mouth, continuing his ministrations as he rode through his own orgasm. 
“I swear I heard screamin’ Charlie.” You and Alastor both froze as you both heard Angel’s voice in the distance. Panicking, you tried to tear yourself from Alastor and the tentacle wrapped around your torso with more force; but he didn’t let you move. You silently screamed his name through your teeth, anxiety building up as you dreaded the thought of someone catching you with the Radio Demon of all people. 
Abruptly, you felt Alastor retract from you as your back hit against silked covers. Confused, you took in your surroundings, your anxiety vanishing as you realised you were in a different room from the parlour. But it was a room you didn’t recognise.
“Such a silly girl.” Alastor spoke up, still in between your legs as his fingers stroked the skin of your thighs, his eyes connecting with yours. “Did you honestly believe I’d let anyone else witness you in such a state?” He watched you whine as you took in his now undressed form; allowing you to witness all the stitching that wrapped around his body, his small tufts of fur that lavished his chest, and his free cock that was covered in cum and was too heavy to point upwards. 
You couldn’t prevent the moan that left your lips as you concluded that he had cummed from eating you out. 
“No,” He grunted as he pulled your thighs apart before pulling your body down toward him. “This is for my eyes, and my eyes alone.” Pushing his phallic organ against your folds, you gasped as Alastor continued. “You may parade around in such ridiculous little clothing, but this,” His fingers wrapped around your neck. “Is mine.” As he finished, he finally forced his thick and heavy cock in the warm and wet walls of your cunt. “Fuck.” Alastor hissed. He never thought sex would feel so consuming, so fulfilling, so pleasurable.  
The pressure of his fingers against your throat began to consolidate as he fucked his fat cock into you, almost preventing you from breathing. Although Alastor wasn’t an experienced man in sex, he was experienced in the resilience of the throat; he knew exactly how much pressure he needed to apply before it restricted oxygen from entering. And oh how did that do things to you.
As he continued to ram himself into you, he lifted your upper half to him, bringing your face to his, allowing his lips to graze yours. “Give me your soul, darling.” He grunted before initiating a kiss. “Give yourself to me and I’ll give you the seven rings of hell if you please it.” 
You felt the throbbing of your sex begin again as he fucked into you, promising you basically anything you desired as long as you gave your eternal existence to him. The want to be possessed by this man was enveloping you entirely. You didn’t even hesitate before you cried out a passage of yeses. A sharp glow of green screeched throughout the room along with a high pitched shriek as Alastor groaned into your mouth. You could feel stitches that adorned his mouth for barely a second grazing the skin of your lips as he pushed his face into yours; his pace becoming aggressively harder. 
You jolted with every thrust, allowing yourself to cry out as another orgasm was ripped from you, twice as intense as the one you had barely moments ago when it was his tongue inside you and not his cock. As you whined and cried throughout your euphoric feeling, you began to become limp. Alastor only held you tighter, refusing your warmth to leave his cold dead skin as he began to thrust into you as if you were his precious little fuck toy.
If this deal guaranteed that he would fuck you like this on a regular basis, you weren’t going to complain; especially when he was the best fuck you had ever had the satisfaction of experiencing. Instead of treating you as a form of self pleasure, he seemed to only derive his pleasure from yours. Like he got off on you feeling good.
It only confirmed your thoughts as you felt his cock pulsing inside you; splattering his cum further into you after you came down from your own high.
How the fuck did you end up in this predicament again? You only wanted to paint his damn claws.
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»»------► 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝
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daesukiii · 3 months
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I Can See You
Pairing: single dad! Seonghwa x babysitter! f! yn
Word Count: 10,137
Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, a creepy old man in one scene, age gap (10 years but both are adults (and not just barely)), smut warnings under cut
Genre: Angst, fluff, smut, single parent au, M for mature audiences
Summary: When you took a job babysitting a young toddler, you didn't expect to be so drawn to the family. And more specifically, her frustratingly hot and single dad.
Smut Warnings: masturbation, sexual fantasies, riding, slight (if you squint) corruption kink, sliGHT breeding kink, unprotected sex (DONT DO THIS unless you discuss safely outside of sex!), breast play, overstimulation, undiscussed kinks (yn is fine with it. but discuss your fucking kinks guys *gun emoji*), slight cumplay
thank u to @pyeonghongrie and @mingsolo for beta'ing and for the title hehe <3 this is also a collab with @potatomountain who is also writing a dilf hwa, we're just on two sides of the spectrum lol...and this is so damn long
-
“Hello, I’m here for a babysitter interview with a Mr Park?”
“That would be me. Miss (Y/N)?”
When you answered the ad in the newspaper about babysitting, you were so ready to see an older man, around his fifties. But this man looked so young, around his late twenties although you’re sure he’s probably forty. And you’re not one to judge—nearing your mid-twenties one wouldn’t be expecting you to still babysit as a full-time job. But it pays the bills and helps you get some hands-on experience in your degree, child development.
“Ah, yes. That’s me,” your words spill out as you realise he is awaiting an answer. Mentally, you berate yourself for the immediate blunder while Mr Park’s eyes crinkle with amusement.
“Come on in and make yourself comfy on the couch. I’ll be right there. Would you like anything to drink?” Mr Park’s voice is smooth like butter and you have a hard time making sure you don’t get lost in it.
Again, you nod, actual wordy responses jumbled in your brain, walking to the couch and sitting down almost mechanically. If you were mentally present, you would have noticed the smile the older man sends your way.
He doesn’t take too long, returning with two glasses of water. “You didn’t say what you wanted to drink so I just got you water. Is that okay?”
Thankfully, you finally can respond coherently and smile, albeit a little shakily. “Yes, thank you so much.”
You take the glass with both hands, thanking him again quietly and taking a small sip before just holding it as you wait for him to be seated. You’ve felt awkward before, but this is a new extreme. Normally you pride yourself on keeping your cool in front of someone you think is hot, but Mr Park…he’s something else. You try your best to keep your eyes trained on the coffee table, only letting yourself glance at him occasionally so he doesn’t realise just how in awe you are.
“Jihee will be home from school soon, so you’ll see her soon. For now it’ll just be old me and my questions,” Mr Park starts his interview as soon as he sits on the couch across from you. “Now, I saw in your application that your major was in child development? Can I ask why that interested you?”
You blink at him for a moment, not expecting that question. Sure, bringing it up was expected, but the way he sounds like he’s interviewing you for a position in a company amuses you. “Uh…I just grew up with a lot of siblings and their kids. I’m the youngest of six, and the oldest is sixteen years older than me so I have a lot of nieces and nephews as well. Children have always been a part of my life, and my first job was babysitting so it’s something I’m very used to. Child development was just a way for me to learn even more and in a less… hands-on way. Poopy diapers are not my favourite.” You pause. “Not that I can’t change them! Or that Jihee uses them. Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”
You’re so sure your face is bright red right now as you stumble over your words, and you’re ready to be kicked out, but all Mr Park does instead is laugh at your embarrassment. It’s a little mean but it’s better than your worst conclusion so you’ll take it. “It’s okay,” Mr Park smiles at you. “It’s okay to ramble, it was actually quite amusing. Now, I’d just like to warn you, Jihee has trouble with working on schoolwork. While that usually isn’t an issue, she may be asking you to help her with her homework and reading and I just thought I’d give you a heads up. Would that cause any trouble?”
“It wouldn’t bother me, and I’ll try my best. I took children’s education in college as well so it’d be a good time for me to exercise that,” you laugh quietly. Your first dream was to be a governess, no matter how few jobs there are for that type of work.
Mr Park nods thoughtfully. “Glad to give you some experience in that,” he hums after careful consideration, a smile on his face. “Her struggles lie in understanding the problems and in English. If she faces any difficulty then I can always help out.”
Before either of you continues speaking, his watch beeps and he glances down. Without another word, he stands and goes to open the front door. “Uh–” Your confusion escapes you before you can stop it.
“Oh, Jihee’s almost home and I always leave the door open for her,” he explains, eyes still trained on his watch. “You’ll get to meet her, and then we can discuss more details. And just to reiterate the ad, this is going to be a job that requires a lot of hours. I, of course, will be paying you for any sort of overtime if I need to stay at the office later. Does your schedule still allow for that?”
You hold back your smile. Your schedule mostly consists of scrolling the internet for job opportunities and eating lunch with your friends. “Yes, I can do that,” you affirm. “I’ll need holidays off, but I assume that’s a given as you’ll also be with Jihee?”
A smile pulls at the corner of Mr Park’s mouth. “Very astute,” he chuckles. “Now, here she comes.”
The door swings open without another word from either of you and a little girl dressed in pink and ribbons barrels into Mr Park’s knees. He lets out a quiet grunt, stabilising himself against the door as his hand strokes at her hair. “Hello, Jihee,” he hums fondly. "How was school today?"
The young girl beams up at her father. "So fun!" she grins, her words slightly slurred in her excitement. "Today, Mrs Lee had us do shapes and my favourite colour is blue now! I have so many blue crayons."
Mr Park's eyebrow raises at the mention of crayons. "Do you have them with you?" he asks, and Jihee nods vigorously. "Can I see them?"
Another nod comes from the child and she immediately plops on the floor, pulling out her pencil case and opening it to reveal at least ten crayons, all of varying sizes. What stands out to you the most is that half of them are green. "See! All blue. But this one's my favourite." She grabs at a particularly long and skinny one, a shade of emerald green.
"Ah. Lovey, remember, your colours are a little different, right?" Mr Park talks in a gentle voice, very different from the very adult voice he used with you. "That's a green crayon."
Jihee's face drops. "Oh." Her bottom lip juts out in a pout.
Mr Park holds out his hand and Jihee drops the crayon into his palm. "You can't take the crayons from school anyway, dear. Why don't we leave these in your bag and you can give them back and apologise to Mrs Lee tomorrow?"
Jihee's pout grows bigger but she nods. "Okay, daddy," she agrees and Mr Park nods proudly.
"Now, do you want to meet your new friend?" You flinch as Mr Park mentions you, sitting up straighter in your chair before ultimately deciding to stand instead.
"Hi, Jihee," you do your best to speak with the same quiet tone Mr Park used. "I'm (Y/N)! It's nice to meet you."
You offer your hand for her to shake and Jihee looks at you, her thinking face almost a spitting image of her father's before she walks over and takes your hand with gusto. "Hi, Mrs (Y/N).”
"Ah, I'm not a Mrs," you correct her. "You can call me (Y/N)."
"Miss (Y/N)," Mr Park quietly interrupts and you nod, not wanting to override his parenting although being called 'miss' will catch you off-guard for the time being. "Why don't you tell her one thing about yourself and then Miss (Y/N) has to go, okay?"
Jihee's mouth twists in sadness, her hand still gripping yours. "Okay," she sighs again. "I get to talk to her more later though, right?"
Mr Park nods. "Of course. Miss (Y/N) will be spending a lot of time with you, so I'm glad you like her."
Jihee nods solemnly. "I like pretty people and you're super pretty," she tells you earnestly and your heart swells at the compliment.
“Thank you, Jihee,” you thank her genuinely, although you’re amused at the fact that she considers her appreciation for physical looks a good introduction to herself. “It was nice to meet you.”
With another decisive nod, Jihee turns and marches right off down the hall, presumably to her room. Mr Park turns to you, finally shutting his front door with a sigh. “That was Jihee. Ball of energy extraordinaire. She comes home from school at one-thirty, and will put her own things away before coming to eat a snack. She has one worksheet to do a day but with your help she’ll get it fairy quickly. I’ll email you a list of house rules.”
You nod. “That sounds perfect. What would the schedule look like? What time would I be here, and when would I expect you to come home?”
Mr Park hums, running a hand through his perfect hair. “For her school days, I’d like to have you in here maybe ten minutes before she comes. I’ll always leave her snack in the fridge and you can just pop it in the microwave and make yourself comfortable before she comes barrelling in. Then I’ll be home at five-thirty sharp whenever possible. Every other Saturday I’m in the office for eight hours and you’ll be watching Jihee for those days. If you can’t do a Saturday, just let me know so I can get someone to watch her, but generally I’d like you here from eight to five.”
You nod. All your friends have atypical work schedules so your Saturdays are empty in general, and since the weekdays are shorter hours you don’t mind. “When it comes to after-school playdates, should I expect you to be home or would you like me to take care of them?”
Mr Park’s lips tighten almost imperceptibly. “That won’t be an issue. Jihee doesn’t do playdates.” Your curiosity spikes at his short answer but his tone leaves no room for discussion so you don’t press it. “I’ll give you a key now. Tomorrow is my off-Saturday but if you can come in just to adjust yourself that would be great. I have some work to get done anyway so I’ll be mostly out of your hair although you can still ask me questions.”
You nod again. “Yeah, that works,” you confirm after a quick check to your phone calendar. When you look up, Mr Park is already holding out a key and you take it after a moment’s hesitation. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
Mr Park nods, moving to open the door when Jihee calls out with a whining tone to her voice. “Daddy, I need help!”
Mr Park sighs but it’s full of affection for his daughter. “I would walk you to your car but she calls for me,” his head dips into an apologetic bow but you shake your head.
“Don’t worry about it,” you smile at him. “There’s no need for that at all.” That is one of the main reasons, but another part of you doesn’t want him to know you have no car and you take the bus to his neighbourhood and then walk the rest of the way.
A twenty-four-year-old with no car? It’s a little embarrassing, especially in the area you both live in where it’s almost required to have a car to do anything. Generally, your babysitting jobs were close enough to your home, but the salary of this job enticed you to give up walking.
As you exit, you can hear Jihee starting off her complaints about her jacket and you smile to yourself subconsciously.
-
You’ve been working with the Parks for almost a month now and generally, it’s a good time. You only really see Mr Park when he comes home, but by then you have one foot out the door. There are days when he looks so beaten down that you want to offer him some encouragement, but you don’t want to step out of your boundaries. So, you just keep your head down and leave.
Jihee is sweet and easy-going, not hard for you to get along with. She always has some sort of fun idea for you to play along with and her schoolwork hasn’t been too terrible although you dread when she starts getting into more difficult maths.
But today, as soon as Jihee walks into the door, you suspect something is wrong. She doesn’t greet you as excitedly as she used to, just stalking straight into her bedroom and coming right now, settling herself down on the couch with a pout on her face.
“Jihee, don’t you want to eat?” you try to coax her to the dinner table, but she just shakes her head, immobile. You frown. It’s strange for the usually talkative child to be this closed off. “Did something happen at school?”
Jihee glares at the coffee table, shaking her head. “No,” she mutters but her cold-stone facade drops immediately as she suddenly bursts into tears. Your heart drops for the child crying on your couch and you immediately run to her and pull her into your arms. “Why don’t they like me?” she wails into your shirt and your heart drops.
You had suspected it when Mr Park shut down the playdate idea very quickly, but this just solidifies your thoughts. How could the kids at school not like such a sweet kid? As you’ve been working for the Parks for quite a bit now, you’ve grown to adore the young girl like she was one of your own nieces.
You don’t say anything just yet, just patting her hair and doing your best to calm her down. It takes almost an hour but now she just curls up in your arms, her hands gripping your shirt as she’s so close to falling asleep. You don’t have the heart to wake up so you resign yourself to letting her sleep on you for now.
Within ten minutes, you fall asleep as well. It’s not what you meant to do, but you couldn’t have stopped yourself. When your eyes open again, Jihee is no longer in your arms and there’s a large fluffy blanket laid on top of you. You blink yourself awake before panic sets in and you shoot up, looking around. “Jihee?” you call out and hear deep laughter behind you. When your head snaps back you see Mr Park chuckling at your face.
“Welcome back to the land of the living, Miss (Y/N).”
It takes a minute for your words to register, blinking stupidly at your employer for a few moments before your face drops and you practically leap off the couch. “I’m so sorry!” you cry, bowing rapidly at a low angle. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep and it won’t happen again.”
You keep your eyes lowered and you look up at him through your lashes, scared of how he’ll react but to your surprise, Mr Park’s smile grows and he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, you looked comfortable and the doors were locked. Jihee didn’t get into any trouble, just was a little bored since you were asleep.”
You shake your head. “Regardless, I shouldn’t sleep on the job but thank you for the kindness. Jihee is very responsible for her age and it certainly reflects on your parenting.” You smile back at him.
“Well, thank you for your kind words. It means a lot to me as well,” Mr Park hums. “Would you like to join us for dinner? I know you usually leave around the time I get back but let me at least feed you before you go.”
You frown. “I’d like to, but I should get going,” you say absentmindedly. “I have to make it in time to catch the bus.”
You’re looking around, trying to gather your belongings, when you realise how silent Mr Park is. And in turn, you realise what you just said. “You take the bus?” His voice lowers and you stare at the look of concern he has on his face. “It’s practically dark by the time you leave and you’re walking to the bus stop by yourself?”
“Ah– it’s okay! It’s not a far walk, just up the street.” You hurry to defend your choices, waving your hands. “I’ve gotten home safe so far, no?”
Mr Park shakes his head. “No, you can’t take chances. I’ll drive you home tonight after dinner. You must stay.”
You stare up at him with wide eyes, but his stance is unwavering. And as much as you would usually protest—being taken home by a much older man would usually ring alarms in your head—the idea of not having to wait in the cold and the dark by yourself is very appealing. And from how you’ve interacted with him before, Mr Park seems very sweet, and you trust him just a little more than you probably should.
“Well, I do thank you for your kindness,” you sigh, nodding your head in concession. “But this will be the only time.”
Mr Park chuckles, not taking you seriously. “We’ll see. Now come on. Tonight is beef stew and my younger brother will come for dinner as well.”
“Uncle Uyu is coming?” You can hear Jihee’s excited voice coming from the kitchen as well as her feet pittering on the floor as she launches herself into your lap. “Hi again, Miss (Y/N).”
“Hello again, Miss Jihee,” you tease, pressing the tip of your finger to her forehead and Jihee giggles.
“Are you staying for dinner?” You nod again and she screeches in happiness, not giving a second glance at how you wince at the sound. “I can’t wait! I have to make you pretty! Come with me.”
With as much seriousness as she can muster in her body, she pulls you by the hand into her room as Mr Park watches the two of you with a soft smile and follows the two of you into Jihee’s room. He takes a seat on the bed as Jihee fusses over your hair, styling it with her toddler's hands and putting an obscene amount of hair clips into it. But you’re whipped for the little girl and you let her do whatever she wants, ending up in two uneven pigtails and a plethora of Hello Kitty clips.
“Daddy, isn’t it pretty?” Jihee giggles, moving your head to tilt so her father can take a look at her work. “It’s better than your hair to practice!”
Mr Park, mock-affronted, holds his hand to his chest. “Betrayed by my own daughter? Alas, but I can let it slide as this may very well be your best work.”
Jihee giggles, pressing her face against your cheek when the doorbell rings. “Uncle Uyu!” As always, her focus is diverted by any new thing and she runs for the door, both you and Mr Park following shortly after. As she yanks the door open, a man around Seonghwa’s age greets her just as excitedly, bending down to pick her up and spin her around.
“Jiji,” he cheers, “Already so big?” His eyes find you and you offer a small wave. “And who’s this? Seonghwa, you found a girl?”
Mr Park’s jaw drops and your eyes widen as you rush to contradict. “Oh, no, no, I’m just the babysitter. Mr Park has kindly invited me for dinner.”
Wooyoung chuckles at the look on both your faces. “Don’t worry, I just like to pull on Seonghwa’s leg. You’re a little young for him too.”
You offer a smile. “Yeah, and the forties are a little out of my age range as well,” you try to joke, but to your surprise, Wooyoung breaks out cackling, startling Jihee who starts laughing with him confusedly. Mr Park’s shocked face has somehow become even more intense.
“You think I’m how old?” Wooyoung has reigned in his laughter although a smile still pulls at his lips. “I’m only thirty-four!”
A gasp made its way out of your mouth as you start bowing rapidly again in apology. “I’m so sorry! You look your age, I just assumed you had to be older.”
Mr Park sighs, although an amused smile now graces his face. “It’s okay, I can understand it. I’ll just be giving you a hard time from now on.” He punctuates with a wink and your eyes snap down to Jihee in embarrassment.
“Let’s get on with dinner so I can go home and just melt in embarrassment, okay?” you groan and the two older men laugh. Jihee seems to agree with your sentiment, declaring her hunger grumpily and you laugh and pick her up. “See, even Jihee’s on my side. Let’s eat now.”
Mr Park hums, stepping aside. “All right, I see I’m outnumbered now. I hope you don’t mind how casual this dinner is, but I promise the food is worth it. Wooyoung’s the better cook, but he’s taught me a few tricks.”
You shrug. “Any food is good food to me. At home, I have instant ramen and fried rice so it’s a nice change.”
Out of disapproval, Mr Park shakes his head although the smile does not leave his face. “I do not miss my college diet. Please, take a seat.” He motions to the dinner table, pulling out a chair for you to seat yourself, sitting beside you as Wooyoung and Jihee join the other side of the table.
“So, tell me about yourself (Y/N),” Wooyoung hums, leaning on the table by his elbows. “You’re in college?”
You shake your head. “I graduated a year and a half ago, I’m twenty-four now, but it feels like just yesterday I was taking my finals,” you chuckle. “What was your major, Mr Wooyoung?”
Wooyoung smiled, “Please, call me Wooyoung. Mr Wooyoung just sounds weird. But to answer your question, my major was culinary, of course. Before I taught Hwa how to cook, he was hopeless. I think I was feeding him and Jihee primarily other than his sandwiches and canned soup.” He sighs, leaning back and smirking at Mr Park whose ears are red.
“Hey, Youngah, I paid you for your work. Don’t make me seem incompetent,” Mr Park snorts, leaning over to smack the back of his neck. “Wooyoung may be eight years younger than me but he certainly acts like he’s five.”
You laugh at the banter. “Me and my siblings were the same way. We’d always fight but in the end, we care for each other. It’s sweet to see you guys act the same.” You smile, taking a bite of your stew. “Thank you for letting me sit in on your family dinner.”
Mr Park shakes his head. “Of course. Can’t let you walk on your own at night, you know. I’d be happy to give you a ride home from now on.”
“Ah, no, I can’t make you do that,” you try and decline again but Seonghwa is having none of that.
“It’s not a matter of making me, I offered. I can’t let my babysitter just stand around in the dark. Let me do this for you. Jihee cares for you, she wouldn’t want to make you get hurt.”
You frown, pursing your lips. “I suppose I can’t argue with that,” you concede. “Thank you once again.”
Mr Park shakes his head, his hand moving up to ruffle your hair. “Don’t worry about it.” His hand rests atop your head a moment longer before he remembers who he is in relation to you. “Ah, sorry. Habit from Jihee.”
The heartfelt moment is cut loose by everyone amused at Mr Park’s habit. Jihee immediately takes the initiative to start rambling about stickers, engrossing everyone in the conversation, Wooyoung being particularly vocal. The dinner is finished with no other events, and you offer to help clean up, ignoring Mr Park when he tries to protest.
“Thank you for helping out,” he tries to thank you but you wave your hand dismissively.
“You fed me and are driving me home. It’s the least I could do. Shall we head out though? I don’t want you to have to leave Jihee for too long.”
Mr Park nods, grabbing his keys and jangling them as he opens the door to the garage. You do your best to not show your surprise at the sight of his fancy car. Of course, you knew he was well off, but you never imagined you’d actually be sitting in his car. He even opens the door for you, letting you slide into the passenger seat.
You hold yourself stiffly, but Mr Park looks over and just laughs at you. “Relax, I’m not going to bite you. Just let me know where to go and we’ll be set. Want a piece of gum?”
He holds out a pack of gum and you gladly take the piece, happy for the distraction. Most of the car ride is silent, except for you telling him occasionally where to go. But as he pulls up to your street, he slows to a crawl.
“You know, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable around.me. Sure, I’m your employer, but I’m also a dad. I got the dad instinct, you know?” Your lips twitch at his attempt to be comforting. “Really, though. Don’t hold yourself so tight around me. I don’t mind doing this for you.”
You turn your eyes down. “Thank you. I’ll try, it’s just a little weird for me if you understand. But I do appreciate everything you’re doing for me.” As you unbuckle your seatbelt, you smile at Mr Park. “I hope you have a good night.”
As you go to your apartment building, Mr Park leans out of his car and calls after you. “You can call me Seonghwa, (Y/N). Mr Park makes me feel old.”
You laugh at his admission. “We’ll see, grandpa!” You can’t help but tease him before running into your home, leaving an amused Seonghwa outside.
-
These days you and Seonghwa have become a lot more friendly. He’s taken to driving you home despite your protests and during the car rides, some interesting conversations have happened. For example, you learnt that he built his company from the ground and yet is respected in many old money circles.
Okay, maybe you didn’t learn that from a conversation, and instead just searched on the internet. But what can you say? You’re curious about the man who happens to be your charge’s father and the man who happens to be very very handsome.
Maybe you have a bit of a crush on Seonghwa, but you couldn’t blame yourself. There was something about him. It is the aura he holds himself with, the kindness in his smile when he arrives home, and it helps that he is hot. Every so often, you can’t help but find yourself glancing at his pretty hands, or his well-toned arms, and you have to look away before heat spreads up to your ears.
You’re down bad, and it’s not getting any better. Every time you see Seonghwa, you want to jump him but it would be inappropriate. Not only is he your employer, but he’s also a decade older than you. There’s no way he would be interested in you, he probably sees you just as some kid.
With a sigh, you look down at your sketchbook. Today was supposed to be a fun day. Both Jihee and Seonghwa were off today, so you were spending the day with her as Seonghwa was still called into the office to put in some extra hours. But then the toddler fell sick and you were tasked with taking care of her.
At least it was a fairly easy job—Jihee slept most of the day and you were free to work on some of your more personal projects. Although your passion lies in children, you do enjoy drawing and even took a couple of classes in college. As you lay on the couch sketching, you get so lost in your mind you don’t even register the door opening and the footsteps coming towards you.
“Is that me?”
A shriek rips its way out of your throat as you do your best to whirl around and hold your drawings to your chest, but your legs get caught in the blanket and you instead fall half off the couch to the ground. Your chin props your head up on the ground but your legs are still tangled on the couch, your arms twisted into the blanket, the sketchbook an arm’s reach away.
“Hi, Mr– Seonghwa. How was work today?” you mumble half into the carpet, too embarrassed to look up. “Jihee’s taking a nap in her room.”
After a moment of silence, Seonghwa laughs, although it’s a little pained. “Uh. Do you need help up?”
You groan, pulling one of your arms out from your cocoon prison. “That would be great, thanks. Sorry.”
One of his cool hands gently takes your elbow as another comes to rest on your back. It’s at the moment you realise your shirt has ridden up. You can’t help but tense at the touch, hoping the embarrassment doesn’t show on your face. “Jihee’s taking a nap?”
You’re grateful he chose to brush over the incident. “Yeah– yeah. She’s not much better, but she’s not much worse. It’s just a simple cold, so she needs to sleep it off.” You chose to ignore the hand lingering on the small of your back, instead scooching back on your butt to distance yourself just a little bit. He’s your employer, there’s no way you can give in to your feelings.
But the couch seems to be against your plans, as when you try to pull the blankets off your feet you tumble into Seonghwa’s legs, knocking him down as you land on his firm chest. Your face is mere centimetres away from his and you freeze. “I–” you stammer out, Seonghwa equally as awkward.
“Sorry–” He tries to sit up, but it just results in the blankets twisting tighter and pulling you two even closer together. You swear if you could hold your breath, you could feel and hear his heart beating. “Ah, shit.”
You can’t help but laugh a little at his profanity, not something you’ve ever expected to hear from him. “Welcome back, Seonghwa.”
Seognhwa’s eyes widen, his blush deepens, and his head snaps away from you. Your brows furrow at the change in his features and you can’t help but wonder if it’s from the proximity, or if it’s the proximity to you specifically. “Ah. Let’s get out of this, shall we?” he coughs. He carefully detangles himself from the pile and holds out a hand to you.
You grasp it, noting his firm grip and letting him pull you up. “Thanks.”
“I’ll drive you back to your apartment first since Jihee’s asleep right now. It won’t take long.” While Seonghwa’s voice remains warm, his eyes move away from you.
Suddenly a guilty feeling pools in your stomach and you turn away as well, bending to pick up your sketchbook silently. “Of course.” The disappointment fills your head as you internally admonish yourself for even trying to entertain your fantasies of the older man.
But, to your surprise, a warm hand pats you on your shoulder. “You are good at art, (Y/N). You should continue to pursue and practice it, even as just a hobby.” His words make you look up into his eyes and you see a sparkle behind them. “You’re a talented person, and you should take advantage of it.”
“Thank you, Seonghwa,” you smile at him again. “Once again, I appreciate the kindness you offer me.”
Seonghwa chuckles, spinning the car keys as you’ve quickly found out is his habit. “(Y/N), thank you for putting up with such an old man who can offer you nothing but kindness.”
You snort. “You’re not even that old, you geezer.” In retaliation, Seonghwa leans over and pokes you in the forehead.
“Oh, hush and let me take you home.”
-
It’s been almost six months since that day and your feelings have only intensified. But this time, you swear perhaps he may be returning your feelings too. Sometimes you catch him looking at you with a gentle smile, and his hand on your shoulder lingers a little longer than you think. But then he talks to an employee on the phone and you remember how accomplished he is. Even if he wasn’t much older than you, there’s no way you would fit into his lifestyle.
And, like any self-respecting person would do, you start to avoid him. What else are you going to do? Tell him? You’d be crazy to even entertain the thought. There’s no way he would even take you seriously.
These days you’ve just been going to work, and heading straight home. Seonghwa barely has time to catch you, and you’ve been plotting with Jihee to keep him away. She doesn’t quite understand why, but it’s fun to her so she’s happy to. You’re pretty sure half your wallet has gone to sticker sheets. But no matter how many stickers you’ve bought, it doesn’t help Seonghwa from figuring out something is amiss.
It’s your one day off and you’re spending it at home, lounging around and just watching movies while you sulk about your tangled feelings. Watching all these romantic movies doesn’t help at all and you groan. There’s no way you’re going to act like a lonely teenager, you declare to yourself. You’ll go to a club! Maybe meet someone closer to your age and you won’t feel like a wet sock anymore.
That’s it, you’ve convinced yourself. You’ll give yourself a night out. Suddenly inspired, you throw off the blankets covering you and start donning your nicest clothes. There’s a club you used to frequent in your college days, and you haven’t been back since you got the new job. It’d be nice to let loose again.
As the nighttime approaches, you’re almost all ready to go. You have your outfit and your makeup, and all you need is your shoes. Once you pick out your favourite pair of heels (comfy and not too high), you make your way down. You can feel the excitement pounding out of your chest and you can’t wait to get the night started.
As you enter the club, your body immediately relaxes as you take in the atmosphere. It’s been so long, you’re just excited to have fun. Get drunk, find a nice guy, and forget your problems. You down drink after drink, hyping yourself up, but as late night comes, nothing happens. With a sigh, you plunk down your last drink, feeling the buzz of the alcohol burn in your veins.
Nothing will happen tonight, and you just have to come to terms with it. You place down a couple of bills to pay off your tab, tip, and stumble out of the bar. You’re plastered. You can hardly walk in a straight line and you lean against the cool brick for a minute, letting the sensation sober you up a bit as you do your best to call up a taxi.
But before you can do so, a hand creeps onto your bare waist and your head snaps up to see a man, no younger than fifty, leering at you. “Uh, hi?” you slur out, your hands fiddling with your phone as you try and discreetly move to the phone app. You may be plastered, but you’re not a fool and you know what could happen in this situation.
Unfortunately, the old man seems to know what you’re trying and he grabs one of your wrists. “Now, pretty lady, take a break there. Why don’t you come hang out with me for a bit?” His words are greasy and slimy, and you almost gag at the idea of what he’s insinuating. At least Seonghwa isn’t triple your age…and he’s hot.
“Ah, no thanks,” you manage to push past him, pressing your most recent contact and holding the phone to your ear. “I’m a little uh…” You’re cut off when whoever you call starts speaking.
“(Y/N)? Why are you calling me? It’s nine.” Seonghwa’s voice crackles through the receiver. “Are you okay?”
“Ah, shit,” you groan, stumbling to your side and colliding with the wall. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to call you. I’m just out and–”
Once again, the old man approaches you and pulls you back by the waist. “Come on, pretty. Get off the phone and pay attention to me.”
You shake your head and pull away again, moving even more down the street. “No, no, I’m not– just leave me alone. I want to go home,” you say, shaking your head, still holding the phone to your face. “Just…I wanna go home.”
“(Y/N), are you okay? Where are you?” You can hear the worry in Seonghwa’s voice rise and a faint jingling of keys. “I’m going to get you. Wooyoung’s here so he can watch Jihee. Talk to me, (Y/N).”
“I’m at the club Desire. Or near it. I don’t know.” Your head is muddled and no matter where you look, the street signs are blurring and the old man is still trying to get your attention. “I just want to go home,” you repeat, tears springing to your eyes. “I thought I told you to leave me alone!”
The old man growls at your tone, grabbing at you again. “Don’t be stupid, child. You can come home with me and I’ll teach you how to be proper for a man like you.” His breath reeks of alcohol and bad breath and you instinctively slap him across the face. Surprised, he jerks back, and you take a couple of shaky steps back again.
“Leave me be! I don’t want you near me.”
The old man’s eyes narrow at you and he takes one menacing step forward, his hand raising to strike you but you bring up your arms to block the slap, whimpering in pain when the hit lands and your phone clatters out of your hand. “You insolent child!” Your eyes squeeze shut and you hope Seonghwa gets there soon.
-
Seonghwa has never driven so fast in his life. He’s racing through the lights and he counts his lucky stars that they’re all green and that the police aren’t around right now. He can hear arguing coming from his phone and he’s calm enough knowing you’re at least still on the phone. But then he hears a noise and what he assumes to be your phone falling on the ground. “Fuck,” he mutters to himself. “Please, please be okay, (Y/N).”
Stepping on the gas, he roars around the corner to the club you mentioned, praying you’re still there. As he gets out, he’s looking around but can’t seem to find you. “(Y/N)?” he calls out. “Where are you?”
He races down the street to find you pinned against the wall, your hands attempting to push an old geezer away and he sees red. He marches right up, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from your shaking figure. “Fuck off,” he growls in his face, delighting in the fear that moves across his face. “Don’t let me catch you near this place again. Now fuck off!”
He practically throws the old man to his knees before turning and cupping your face. “Seonghwa,” you practically sob. He can still see the drunken haze in your eyes but it’s almost completely cleared up now and his brow furrows even more.
“Come on, I’m taking you home.” He pulls you along and you do your best to keep up with him in your inebriated state. “I can’t believe you would do this! Have you no sense of security? Why didn’t you get anyone to come with you? Why would you call a taxi outside of the establishment?”
He still opens the car door for you and you slide immediately in, eyes staring wide at the pristine dashboard. He slides in and puts the car in the ignition before sitting back and groaning in frustration. “I hope you’re ready to talk as soon as we get inside,” he gripes. “I still am so shocked, (Y/N). You act so mature about Jihee, but what happened then? You could’ve been hurt…no, you were hurt!”
He continues his rant driving up to your street, ushering you into the elevator and into your place. “Do you know how my heart dropped when I saw you struggling? I don’t want to see you hurt. You need to take care of yourself.”
As he yells at you, his eyes rake over you to see if you’re injured any further, but something else stops him and the words die in his throat. You’re wearing a sheer shirt, your lacy bra underneath just showing off your chest. Your leather skirt has ridden up your thighs and your eyes fill with unshed tears. And something burns in his brain.
It’s been months since he hired you, and with each passing day, he finds himself more and more attracted to you. He berated himself every time these unwanted thoughts popped into his head. Sure, you’re sweet, good with kids, and are passionate about what you care about. But you’re also so young. You can do so much better than him, a single father with no prospects.
But seeing you like this, heat sparks in his gut and he leans in, his face mere inches away from yours. “When you wear things like that, it makes me want to rip them off you and do things even that creep couldn’t even imagine,” his low voice pierces through your thoughts and your mouth gapes open.
“I’m okay with that,” you whisper, hand reaching out to brush against his chest, but Seonghwa blinks as he realises what he just tried to do, and he jerks back. Your eyes flash with hurt and Seonghwa would like to hit himself for doing that to you but he can’t let you come onto him when you’re still drunk.
“I– I’m sorry,” you whisper, your hands reaching behind you to steady yourself on the wall. “I just felt so lonely. I wanted to be wanted.” 
Seonghwa’s breath stutters as he stares down into your wavering eyes. “I–” He wants you so bad. But he can’t bring himself to say it. Not when you’re drunk. “Go to bed. We’ll talk in the morning.”
He turns away and hears your disappointed sigh alongside your footsteps trudging to your bedroom. With a groan, he sits on the couch with his head in his hands. He wants to reassure you, but he can’t help but feel guilty about it. But he’s still straining in his pants and after locating your bathroom, he sits on the shower bench, leaning against the cool tile and breathing in and out. With a groan, he unzips his pants and pulls out his half-hard cock. The feeling of regret rises but he pushes it down to his gut as he spits in his hand and presses his thumb against the head of his dick.
As he wraps his hand around his cock and pumps it, he can’t help but close his eyes and imagine you. You with your mouth wrapped around his cock, with your hands gripping his thighs. You seated on his throbbing member, grinding your hips against him as you lean down to kiss him. He can feel his dick jump and he wonders what it’ll feel like to fill you with his cum.
He lets out a broken moan as his grip turns tighter. His image of you would scratch your nails down his back. He can almost hear your little whines and breathy moans as your hips work over him. You’d lean in and whisper into his mouth, “Seonghwa, fuck me hard,” and—
Seonghwa sighs as he looks down at his cum-coated hand and the mix of shame and relief swirling around his brain. Maybe he should just go to sleep on the couch and hope he doesn’t dream of you. As he washes his hand and goes to lie down, he can already feel a stress headache coming on. He hopes you’ll at least fare better in the morning.
-
When you awaken, you have a throbbing pain in your head and you groan and roll out of bed. You’ve taken your club shirt off as well as your skirt, but your bra and underpants are still on. You’re sure your makeup is smudged too and you have no clue how you got home but all you want is some coffee and oatmeal.
You trudge to the kitchen, rubbing your eyes from sleep. There’s a blanket fallen on the floor so you toss it onto the couch and head straight into the kitchen to start your coffee maker. As you lean against the counter and yawn.
“(Y/N), are you feeling better?”
A voice calls out from behind you and you shriek, whirling around to see a sleepy Seonghwa, blanket wrapped around him and his hair a mess. You shriek again, realising how little you’re clothed and duck behind the counter, your cheeks flaming and your heart beating faster than you ever thought it could.
“What are you doing here?” you force out, your voice tight.
“Do…do you not remember last night at all?” You do remember most of what happened. He took you home, but that’s about as far as you remember. And you’re not sure you want to know the rest of it. But you’re far too embarrassed to admit, so you put your acting skills to use. You’re not sure you can handle the shame of a real conversation.
“What?” you ask, forcing your voice to pitch higher as you slowly stand back up, hands covering your chest. “I didn’t– Oh my God, I’m so sorry if I came onto you. I was drunk, I must’ve been out of my mind. Please accept my deepest apologies.”
You notice Seonghwa’s eyes trail down to your chest and then snap back up to your face as if he’s forcing himself to and he chokes out a breath. Despite the headache, your mouth twitches. Maybe you’re still a little out of it. “No, nothing like that. I fetched you from the club because you called me to save you from a creep. Then I took you home and we slept.”
You sigh. “I’m glad. I do apologise for whatever my behaviour was. It was out of line and it won’t happen again. I understand if you want to let me go–”
“No!” Seonghwa’s outburst surprises you and your eyes widen. The lack of clothes you’re wearing has been long forgotten and you move around the counter to stand in front of him. Seonghwa has the decency to look a little embarrassed at the volume of his voice. “Sorry. I just…it’s like you’re a part of our family already. I care for you just as much as I care for Jihee.”
Ah. He thinks of you like a child. Your suspicions were right. You turn slightly to face away from him, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice. “I see. Well, I appreciate that. It’s nice to have a second family,” you chuckle, internally beating yourself up. How could you even entertain the thought of the two of you being together? “Let me change, and I’ll walk you out.”
As you return to your room, you finally let your heart sink as tears brim in your eyes. You hastily wipe them away as you rummage in the pile of clothes on your bed for something fairly appropriate to wear. First, you make a fool of yourself in front of Seonghwa, and then your crush is unfounded. You can’t seem to catch a break.
With a sigh, you pull on some shorts and a large shirt before heading back out. “Hey, (Y/N), could we talk first?” Seonghwa asks, still standing in between the kitchen and the living room as his eyes flit around nervously.
After some hesitation, you finally find your voice. “Sure? What’s up? You can sit on the couch if you want.”
Seonghwa takes a seat, hiking up his sweatpants and you move to the floor across the little coffee table. “Last night…you told me something.” Oh no. This is it. You bite your lower lip and look down, awaiting his next words. “Uh. So. You think you came onto me, right? Well. It was. Uh. It may have been me.”
You blink at him foolishly as your brain tries to wrap itself around your head. “You what?”
Seonghwa raises his hands and lowers his head ashamedly. “Let me explain, please. I saw you outside with that horrid excuse of a human and something in me snapped. I just wanted to protect you and I brought you home. But seeing you in that outfit? It just made me want you. And I told you. And you reciprocated. At least, you tried to.” He chuckles a little to himself, bringing up his hand to grip at his hair. “I told you we would talk in the morning. But one thing you said stuck with me. You wanted to be wanted. And all night I’ve been thinking about it. (Y/N), you were drunk. But you weren’t that drunk. Something you said had truth to it. Please. For my own sanity, tell me how you feel about me. Please.”
His voice cracks at the last syllable and something in your heart hurts at the sound. “Seonghwa I…I do care for you. More than I should. You’ve shown me unbendable compassion and you’ve never taken my words or myself for granted…or treated me like a child. Against my better judgment, I’ve fallen for you.” You sigh, tightening your fists. “I’ve been hating myself for the better part of six months because of it. You were so much better than me. In job, in maturity. What was I supposed to do? I went to the club to forget you, but it appears that didn’t work.”
Seonghwa stands quickly, shuffling over to kneel in front of you. “How could you think such a thing? Me better than you? Don’t make me laugh. I may be older than you, and yes, I have a better-paying job. But in the end, how could you compare? You’re amazing with Jihee. You’ve managed to teach her in ways I could hardly hope to imagine. And just because I have a higher wage doesn’t mean your job is less important. I wasn’t lying when I said it felt like you were already part of the family.”
“You told me you thought of me like Jihee,” you argue, and Seonghwa laughs, leaning forward to take your hands.
“I said I care for you as much as I care for Jihee. Not in the same way, (Y/N).” Seonghwa smiles kindly. “I know if this does happen we’ll need to put a lot of care into this, but if you’ll have me, I’d like to be with you.”
You’re not sure whether this is a dream or not, staring up at Seonghwa with wide eyes. You’d be a fool if you said no, but the worries in your head won’t seem to cease. Taking a deep breath, you push them aside and smile up at him. “I’ll have you, Seonghwa.”
As soon as the words fall out of your mouth you can see Seonghwa’s eyes crinkle as he smiles and leans in, his nose almost touching yours. “May I kiss you?” he murmurs in his deep voice, and instead of gracing him with a reply, you meet him in a soft kiss.
His large hands cup your face as he deepens the kiss, and his thumbs brush against your cheekbones. “You’re so pretty,” he hums, pressing a multitude of pecks to your lips. “Last night I was so conflicted. Seeing you like that made me almost go insane.”
An idea sparks in your brain, and a smile widens on your face. Your fingers crawl up his shoulders to rest your arms on them. “How insane?” you ask, and Seonghwa’s eyes darken.
“I’ll show you,” he grows before capturing your lips with his once again. This time his arms shift to wrap around your waist and he pulls you closer until you’re practically pressed against his body. You squeak at the sudden movement but it’s swallowed by the kiss.
He pulls you onto his lap and you can feel the growing hardness in his slacks. You wriggle your hips a little, grinding down, and the moan that Seonghwa lets out is heaven to your ears. “Fuck, (Y/N). You’re so pretty,” he repeats, burying his face in your neck and nipping at the sensitive skin.
You whine at the pain blooming into pleasure and your hands fist into his hair. Your precious sounds get to Seonghwa and he groans, moving your legs to wrap around his waist and he hoists you up and brings you over to the couch. “Your noises are so pretty, baby,” Seonghwa groans into your mouth. “Can’t wait to hear them when you’re wrapped around my cock.”
“Please–” is all you can muster out and your whines only serve to make Seonghwa’s cock harder in his pants.
With a groan, he pats your ass, motioning for you to move up. As soon as your hips lift, he grabs the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down to your knees, leaving your underwear and shirt on. In the same motion, he shoves his slacks and boxers down just far enough to let his cock spring free.
“Seonghwa–”  you whine and something in Seonghwa’s stomach burns at the idea of you crying on his throbbing dick. He sits back, guiding you to sit right above his cock as he moves it to rub against your soaked underwear. Every time the angry-red tip of it brushes against your clit you let out breathy moans and it only serves to make Seonghwa impossibly harder.
“Fuck, I can’t wait any longer,” Seonghwa breathes, his free hand coming up to brush against your face. A smile blooms on your face as you bend to kiss him again.
“Then don’t.”
Something flips in Seonghwa’s brain and he lifts you, pushes your underwear to the side, and lets his cock press into you slowly. The both of you throw your head back and groan loudly at the feeling of him slowly filling you up. He’s not the biggest you’ve had but that doesn’t matter as the sting of the stretch is enough to make you drool. You can hardly speak as you whine nonsense into his ear and let your head drop to the crook of his neck.
“You fit around me so well,” Seonghwa praises, his head spinning at the feeling of finally fucking you the way he dreamed of. It was only yesterday he was fucking into his hand at the thought of you and here he is, only a few hours later, his painfully hard member inside of you. “Look at you, a mess for me. Bet you’ve never been with an older man before. Do I make you feel good, baby?”
You clench at his words. “Fuck, yes, the best I’ve had,” you babble, squirming at the already overwhelming feeling. “You’re so good to me.”
Seonghwa laughs delightedly at how gone you seem to be not five minutes in. “So precious, especially for me, (Y/N). Sitting on my dick so prettily.” He gives a little experimental thrust upwards and you gasp. The noises you make are so addictive, he can’t help but do it again. And again.
You’re panting, moaning as he fills you up so deliciously and your hands grip at his now-wrinkled dress shirt. His cool hands slide up your baggy shirt to shove up your bra and cup your boobs. The weight of them sitting in his hands makes him groan as he leans in to mouth at them through your shirt.
“Been dreaming about these tits since last night. Jerked off in the bathroom after seeing you, you know?” Your eyes widen at the admission and Seonghwa smirks at how embarrassed you look. “Wanted you so bad and you thought I wouldn’t like you in that way? You’re so cute, (Y/N).” He punctuates each word with one thrust after another.
The feeling of his dick pumping into you as well as Seonghwa’s teeth scraping against the soft flesh of your tits makes you so overwhelmed. It’s almost embarrassing how close you are already, and Seonghwa knows it, chucking up at you from between your chest. “Aw, baby, you’re so far gone. Am I that good?”
You cry out and sink your teeth into the junction of his shoulder and neck. You’re trying so hard to keep your noises down but Seonghwa isn’t having any of that. His hand finds its way to your hair, gently tugging on it until your head falls back, exposing the column of your neck.
As his warm breath ghosts over it, you stiffen, and when he moves up from your chest to lick a stripe up it and nip at your earlobe, you come with a groan. Your hips are shaking from the intensity of it but his thrusts don’t stop and soon you’re whining from the overstimulation.
And he still hasn’t come.
“Fuck, Seonghwa, it’s so much,” you groan, mouth hanging open. Seonghwa greedily swoops in to capture your lips once more, licking into your mouth as his thrusts become more and more erratic.
His dick twitches and he groans. “Where do you want me? I’m clean,” Seonghwa mumbles into your mouth.
You shift your hips a little. “I’m clean too and on the pill, so it’s on you. I don’t care, I just want you, Hwa.”
Your words spark something in Seonghwa and he thrusts upwards, once, and his cum starts filling you. It’s searingly hot, settling deep in your gut and you throw your head back and moan so goddamn loud. His throbbing cock is twitching like crazy and it’s still pumping cum into you. Seonghwa’s hand slides down your body to tweak at your nipples, thumb over your flesh, and finally come to rub little circles into your clit.
You gasp and it feels like you’re touching heaven from the extra stimulation. “Gonna fill you up so well,” Seonghwa groans. “Do you think Jihee would like a sibling?” 
Your thoughts all blur together at his sentence and you come again with a groan. Your cunt squeezes around him so deliciously and a sob breaks its way out of your throat, one that Seonghwa eagerly swallows as he kisses you again.
His thrusts start to slow down and you slowly pull off his now-softening dick and settle back down on his lap. His hands push his leaking cum back into your pulsating pussy and you sigh at the feeling.
“Well, that was quite the escalation,” Seonghwa laughs quietly as he pulls both your and his pants back up and wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. His hand pats your butt and you squirm and slap his chest softly.
“You’re lucky I’m on the pill.” You roll your eyes good-naturedly and Seonghwa hums, capturing your lips in his yet again. He can’t get enough of your plush lips and you’re not complaining at all.
“I’m lucky to have you, period,” he sighs happily. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”
You smile and sit up, ignoring the whines that come out of Seonghwa’s mouth at the lack of contact. “Well, I couldn’t let you be a lonely old man,” you tease and Seonghwa smacks your ass again.
“Can old man do what I just did?” You’re suddenly lying on your back with Seonghwa hovering over you, a crooked smile growing on his face. “Or do you need another demonstration?”
You smile and throw your arms around his shoulders and pull him closer. “I don’t know, sir, maybe you should show me once more.”
With a nip to your lips, Seonghwa leans in and your eyes crinkle at the promise of what’s to come.
2K notes · View notes
un-lawliet · 18 days
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— A drabble about falling asleep on Gojo, and making him realise something he never even considered.
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You’re asleep before you even realise it, your head softly bouncing as your body slumps sideways.
Right onto Gojo’s shoulder.
Well, nearly.
The blindfolded man turns his head at the slight bump on his infinity, pausing briefly as he sees you sound asleep, a small crease in your brow as your body attempts to readjust into a more comfortable position.
That mission must have taken a lot more out of you than he had thought.
For such a well rounded sorcerer as yourself to fall asleep on the train ride home…Gojo finds himself frowning at his lack of perception.
He could have handled it for you, had you have asked him to, should you have voiced your exhaustion to him, he would have finished the mission quickly and walked you right to your bed.
You hadn’t been sleeping well recently, he had noticed that.
Being too caught up in trying to teach your students whilst also contributing to your part in the eradication of curses, left you a yawning mess, trailing your feet ever so slightly behind you as you walked.
You lack your usual air of charm, your eyes duller, and voice quiet, and Gojo finds himself, missing you a lot more than he believed he should.
When the pair of you return to Jujutsu Tech, Gojo makes a reminder in his head to take over the rest of your missions until you can promise him of your rest.
If you won’t take care of yourself, then he will.
For now though, the traces of a small smile can be seen on his lips, as your head finally hits the warmth of his shoulder, his technique forgotten for just a moment.
Allowing himself the feeling of your hair tickling his neck, and the weight of your sleep, he traces your eyebrow with his thumb, smirking as you sigh contently at his touch.
There’s an old woman, across from the pair of you, sitting with her bags stacked high on her knees, who whispers under her breath to her husband about the joy of young love, and how gentle it can make a man.
And Gojo finds himself growing fond at the thought, humming sweetly as he looks at your sleeping face, and how calm you look when against his frame.
The trains goes through a tunnel, darkness permeating the car for a brief moment.
You shuffle in your seat as the darkness becomes light once more, waking slightly at the sudden change in brightness.
Your head is resting on something…warm?
You blink slowly, taking in your surroundings before gazing up, alarm juxtaposing your peace.
You spring off his shoulder, eyes wide with concession.
“Oh my God!” You splutter out, your face burning with chagrin, your hands raising as if pleading for mercy.
Your relationship with Gojo is complicated already, you hate to make things more confusing than they need to be.
“I’m sorry!” You say, “I didn’t realise I-”
He cuts you off with a small shake of his head, a large hand reaching over to gently push your head back onto his shoulder, a chuckle leaving him as he does so.
“Relax.” He grins, and it’s the softest you’ve ever heard him speak, “If you’re tired, sleep. I’ll not stop you.”
And you breathe out and in, Gojo can feel it on his neck, trying not to shiver at the closeness of your breath.
“You don’t mind?” You whisper out, at last, unable to peer back up at him.
The hand that pushed you back to him trails down to rest on your waist, curling in to trace patterns on your skin. It makes you feel warm, and you bury your face deeper into his shoulder.
“Nah.” He replies simply, his voice sounding contemplative, as if coming to a realisation he had not yet realised he had to perceive.
And when he leaves a soft kiss on the top of your head, you feel yourself melt, feelings of confusion and any thought of hesitancy dissipating in the feeling of his delicate kiss.
“Not at all.”
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Masterlist <3
feel free to leave a request !
A/N: i miss my baby :(
sorry for being gone for FIVE MONTHS omfg ?????? that’s crazy, i’ve been going insane i think but i’m back and i’m here and i love everyone here and thank you so so so much for reading <3 this was just something small i wrote in half an hour just to bring myself back into the whole writing thing :) so please don’t take it too seriously !!!! i hope you are all doing well
2K notes · View notes
yunopouts · 6 months
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scream - l. jeno
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-> lee jeno x fem reader
-> frat! au, pure smut (jeno lee is one nasty mother fucker in this one y'all)
-> CW: dom! jeno, rough sex(??), choking, edging, a small... TINY (VERY TINY) bit of ass play, protected sex, handjob, overuse of the word fuck, overstim, head god jeno, fingering, spitting, squirting, slight praise, lots of crying (reader), dumbification, marking/biting, scratching, blood, nipple play, gagging, bdj (big dick jeno LMFAOO)
-> a/n: this is my apology for going on such a long break T-T, i'm telling you i didn't even realise it went on for that long. i was checking in every now and then but i feel so bad T-T anyways! I'm back :P this one doesn't have THAT much dialogue, so i hope you guys enjoy the gory details 😁 also i think this is the filthiest, most smutty, smut i've ever fucking written, and i've written a lot... trust me on this.
-> upcoming: dilf! jaehyun next week and maybe another halloween special idk. oh btw, everything has some sort of halloween aspect to it :)) psst! requests are open!!
-> word count: 4.2k!
-> also p.s: idk how to explain the way he's acting in this fic... he's like very sweet and cute when he's kissing, but he's being a bitch when he's fucking and being rough... idk, i hope you understand what I mean. but also, as rough as he maybe, he's very touchy-feely and kissy :D ANYWHO! I present to you, six pages of pure filth!
safe! master list
mature! masterlist
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“When you said we’re going to a party, I didn’t know it was a frat party.” Minjeong said as the three of you walked through the door. The house reeked of weed and sweat, all the criteria for a proper frat party, except everyone is in a Halloween costume.
“Girl, where else would the party have been?” Jimin scoffed lightly. She paused in the doorway, looking down at her phone before she sighed. “Apparently Sungchan’s waiting for me in the living room, I’ll see you two later?” Both you and Minjeong nodded, wishing the girl goodbye and watched as she walked away in her cheerleader costume. 
Turning to each other, you silently agreed that the first thing you needed was a drink, so you headed off to the kitchen. 
“I forgot to tell you how hot you look in that outfit.” She said in your ear, loud enough for you to hear over the music, and you gave her a smile while you poured yourself a drink. 
“So do you,” you whistled as you looked her up and down, the way the gross boys in movies do when they spot a hot girl. 
Together, you looked like an odd pair, seeing as you were dressed up as Jennifer, from Jennifer’s Body, and Minjeong was Little Red Riding Hood. The music thumped through the air as the two of you stood in the crowded kitchen, surrounded by costumed partygoers. The laughter and chatter blended with the bass, creating a symphony of Halloween revelry. Your playful compliment still lingered in the atmosphere, adding a touch of warmth to the otherwise chilly, dimly lit room. You took a sip from your drink, the alcohol burning your throat, but your attention was momentarily drawn away from the sensation by something else. From across the room, you spotted a familiar figure, the ever so iconic Ghost Face mask, in the back corner, talking to a boy dressed up as a mummy.
The menacing presence seemed to defy the festive atmosphere, and your eyes were drawn to it as if by some magnetic force. The Ghost Face mask turned slowly in your direction, and even though you couldn't see their face, you felt a shiver race down your spine. It was as though an invisible connection had formed between you and the enigmatic figure, a connection that transcended the costume and the anonymity it provided. There was something magnetic about their presence, something that sparked a potent and unspoken attraction.
For a brief, electrifying moment, your eyes met those hidden behind the Ghost Face mask. Time seemed to stand still as you locked onto each other, and a subtle, unspoken acknowledgment passed between you, like a silent agreement in the midst of the raucous party. Your heart quickened, and the room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in that charged moment.
Feeling a surge of heat and anticipation, you reluctantly tore your gaze away from the enigmatic figure and turned back to Minjeong, who had been watching the silent exchange with keen interest. She met your eyes, and the shared understanding between you two was palpable. “You saw him too, didn’t you.” Minjeong said in a way that had her sounding winded. With a knowing smile and another sip of your drink, you and Minjeong silently toasted to the unspoken intrigue that had captured your attention.
As the night continued, the magnetic pull you felt towards the Ghost Face figure in the corner didn't wane. It was like an invisible thread connected the two of you, and despite the ongoing revelry, your attention kept drifting back to that mysterious presence.
Minjeong, ever perceptive, nudged you and raised an eyebrow as if to say, "Why not go for it?" Encouraged by her silent urging, you decided to take the initiative. Setting down your drink, you nodded toward the Ghost Face figure, indicating your intention to approach.
Minjeong gave you an encouraging thumbs-up before disappearing into the crowd, leaving you to navigate the sea of Halloween costumes on your own. You weaved through the dancing crowd, anticipation growing with each step.
As you approached, the mask-wearing figure seemed to sense your approach and turned slightly in your direction. They leaned against the counter with their arms crossed over their chest, waiting for you to arrive. The closer you got, the more you could feel the intensity of the connection between the two of you.
Finally standing face to face, the silence was almost deafening. The mask stared at you, unmoving, but you could sense a palpable tension beneath it. Without exchanging words, you both seemed to understand that this moment was special, a secret shared between you in the midst of chaos.
Slowly, your hand extended, and you reached for the Ghost Face mask. Your fingertips brushed against it, and you felt a rapid heartbeat beneath your touch. The mask gave the slightest nod, and you grasped it, carefully pulling it up.
Beneath the mask, a pair of intense, dark eyes met yours. You were momentarily lost in their depth, captivated by the enigmatic stranger who had held your attention all night. The corners of your lips curved into a small, knowing smile, and a spark of recognition flared in those deep, mysterious eyes. 
The unspoken tension that had been simmering between you erupted in a whirlwind of excitement. It was a dance of anticipation and curiosity, an unspoken agreement that you had both been waiting for this moment. And even though the music continued to thump, and the crowd continued to revel, for that brief, electric moment, it was just the two of you, locked in a silent, thrilling connection.
You told him your name when he asked for it, and he introduced himself as ‘Jeno’. 
“You wanna take this upstairs?” he asked with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
You sucked in a breath and nodded before he pulled the mask back down and took your hand in his to lead the way through the crowd.
The staircase was crowded with a few people, Minjeong included. You spotted her talking to a girl in fairy costume and when you caught her eye, she gave you a grin, wider than you’ve ever seen. 
Every now and then, Jeno’s leather gloved hand would lightly squeeze yours as you climbed up the stairs. You held on a little tighter each time, but before you knew it, you were standing in front of a room with a big ‘JN’ poster hanging in the middle.
The boy opened the door for you and let you enter first before entering himself. The door clicked shut behind you as you sat down on the bed, your eyes locked on Jeno's every move. With a seductive confidence, he slowly peeled off the Ghost Face mask, revealing a mischievous smirk that sent a shiver down your spine.
As he stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours, you sucked in a breath in response to the sensual tension that crackled between you. His gloved hands, still gripping the mask, dropped to his sides, and he advanced with a slow, deliberate purpose. The room was drowning in desire, and you couldn't tear your gaze away from him.
Jeno moved in until he was standing directly in front of you. His presence was magnetic, and you found yourself unable to resist as he placed a hand on your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your skin. The touch was electrifying, and you leaned into it, your eyes closing as you savored the sensation. You reached up slowly and pulled his hands away, suddenly regretting it, but you went on with pulling the leather gloves off, exposing a set of large, veiny hands. 
Kicking off your shoes, you moved to the top of his bed and watched as he concentrated on your every move with dark eyes. In a flash, Jeno had pulled off the cloak, leaving his chest exposed and him only in his jeans. It felt like you were freezing without his touch on you, but soon enough, he was in front of you, inspecting your face before his eyes ultimately landed on your lips that were stained red from makeup.
His lips rushed to meet yours in a tantalising kiss, a soft exploration that soon deepened into a passionate melding of mouths. The taste of him was intoxicating, and your tongues danced in a heated rhythm, exchanging breathless sighs and moans. Every kiss, every brush of his lips against yours, sent a rush of heat through your body. It was amazing.
His hands travelled from your face, down to your waist and they pulled you to meet his body. Jeno groaned into the kiss from all the friction caused by his chest rubbing against your sweater, making his nipples hard and sensitive. 
While your arms wrap around his neck, Jeno’s hips dig into yours, creating a tent in his pants. It’s hard and uncomfortable but the pressure it’s putting on your cunt is to die for, so you grind… hard. Jeno moans your name while his hands tug at your jeans so aggressively you thought he would tear them if he continued. After blindly messing around with your pants, Jeno popped the button open and pulled down your jeans, exposing the lacy underwear you had on. 
You whined as he pulled away from your lips but you shut up quicker than ever when you noticed how he was staring at your pussy. He looked hungry.
He looked like he was starving.
And starving, he was.
Jeno practically tore off your panties, tossing them somewhere behind him, before he dove into you. His tongue pressed flat against your pussy, licking a stripe up, the muscle’s warmth and making you moan softly. His nose poked at your clit as his tongue toyed with your hole. He lapped at your folds, making sure no spot was left untouched by his tongue. Jeno loved the way you tasted; you had the best pussy he’s ever eaten, he felt like he could spend all day eating you out, and he’d never get tired of it. 
Jeno pulled away for a second to put his middle finger in his mouth, coating it in saliva before pressing it to your entrance. A hum escaped your lips as his thick digit slowly pulsed in and out of you as your hands worked to take off your sweater and shirt. Soon, one finger became two, and Jeno went back to eating you out. Your moans were driving him crazy; they were making it hard focus on your clit because his cock was so fucking hard. The hand he had pressed on your lower abdomen moved down to his button, undoing it and moving the zipper down far enough for him to get his dick out. 
As he rubbed his cock, Jeno’s teeth grazed your clit before his lips latched on to it, sucking forcefully. With that, it didn’t take long for that feeling to start to form. As your moans quickened, the pace of Jeno’s fingers grew faster, and he sucked harder on your clit– if it were even possible. He loved the way you were tightening around his fingers, like you were trying to keep them inside you, wanting them absorb your juices.
“Fuck, Jeno…” you gasped, fingers tugging at his dark, messy hair. “God, I’m so close.”
Your eyes squeezed shut right as you were about to cum, but you never did. You felt so high, but now you dropped back down to zero, and you were empty and cold. Opening your eyes, you saw Jeno looking down at you with a smug expression. He leaned down and kissed you softly, which allowed you to taste yourself off his tongue, the somewhat sweet taste filling your mouth. 
Reaching down, you felt for his cock, and began stroking when you found it. He was girthier than other guys you’ve had sex with, and he had a slight curve upwards, but my god was he long. You didn’t know if he would fit, but there was nothing you wouldn’t try. 
Jeno moaned as he kissed you, the feeling of your warm hands rubbing him up and down forced him to thrust at the pace you were moving at. He pulled back from your lips to drop his head into the crook of your neck, marking and panting against the soft skin. Behind the shell of your ear, he wet a small spot with saliva before he kissed it softly, and he did the same to a few other spots. He sucked on your skin until it bruised while he moved down to the curve of your neck. Jeno’s hot tongue laid against your skin once again before he closed his teeth around it. 
You jerked his cock harder as the boy continued to bite into different spots until his husky voice whispered a demand. 
“Stop.” Jeno told you.
You did as you were told, but you kept your fingers trailing up and down his shaft as he kissed back up your neck, to your lips.
“Gimme two seconds.” he said against your lips with a smile. You kissed him quickly before he got up, which made him chuckle. 
You watched as he got up, cock out and everything, which made you smile a bit. Jeno slid off his remaining clothes and tossed them in what presumed to be a laundry bin, and opened a drawer of his dresser, only to pull out something wrapped in a gold foil. 
Oh…
Not one;
Not two;
Or three;
But six.
Jeno pulled out a strand of six condoms before he turned back to you. “Just in case.” he smiled innocently, even though he absolutely was not. He tore one from the line and ripped the top off with his teeth before he handed you the open package. 
“Only six?” you asked in attempt to make a joke out of the pain you’re going to be in tomorrow. 
Jeno chuckled as he shrugged while you took the condom and rolled it on to his cock. “We can use the whole pack if you want, it’s new.”
And that was that, seeing as Jeno grabbed your face and kissed you passionately. His tongue eagerly explored your mouth once again, grazing your own tongue and cheeks before he pulled away. A string of your mixed saliva hung like a teather from your mouth to his.
“Turn over for me, won’t you?” you nodded in a daze and turned so that your face was in the pillows. “Good girl,” he said, his cool hands grazing down your back, sliding all the way down to your ass. He spread your cheeks far enough apart to see everything, and you swore you heard evil laughter coming from somewhere. 
What you thought was going to come, did not, in fact, come. Instead, you were surprised to feel a warm glob of spit fall on to your ass and how it trailed down to your pussy. Jeno leaned down and licked one long stripe, starting from your clit and ending at your ass. His tongue poked into your hole, once again, but this time he scisored in and out, the same way he used his fingers earlier. His tongue was warm and soft inside you, but that feeling didn’t last very long. 
Jeno pulled his tongue out, subbing it out for his fingers, but instead, he used his tongue on your ass, sending shivers down your spine. He licked at the puckered hole, warming it up a bit as he fucked your pussy with his fingers. 
“You doing okay?” he asked, but you were only able to moan out your response. His fingers fucked you faster, his thumb was ruining your clit with friction, your ass was slick with his spit. Everything was happening just as it needed to be for you to cum. “Oh fuck, Jeno, I’m gonna cum.” And this time you did. Jeno’s fingers curled inside you as they fucked you through your orgasm. Your body shook, your pussy was covered in spit and cum. Jeno’s fingers were coated in a mixture of his and your fluids, and he sucked it off like he was eating icing from a cake. 
You felt hot and sticky; he hadn’t even fucked you with his cock yet and yet that was the best orgasm you’d ever fucking felt. “Jen… Jeno, I need you.”
The desparity in your voice sent Jeno spiraling and in no time, the fingers in your pussy were gone and his cock was poking at your enterance. He spit into his hand and coated his covered cock in it, even though he doubted he needed it, considering the fact that you were so wet you could drip on to his bed.
With a slow push, Jeno’s cock entered you, but refrained from moving after hearing you gasp. You knew he was going to be big, but you didn’t know he would be that big. He was a length you’d never taken before, so it took you a few minutes to adjust to his size, but soon enough you were able to build up to a medium pace. 
Jeno’s hands snuck up your back to undo the clasp of your bra, exposing your breasts. Jeno firmly gripped your ass, with his thumb prodding at your assshole. You hummed with pleasure as the thick digit dipped into you slightly. With that, along with the pounding from his cock, you were basically in heaven. 
“Faster,” you gasped, finally feeling only pleasure as he fucks into you.
Pulling you up by the shoulder, your bra slipped off in an instant, which let Jeno get a proper view of your tits, plump and beautiful. He watched how they jiggled with each thrust, and he grew more and more fond of them. Jeno even switched his grip on you from your shoulder to your neck. His hand gripped you around the base of your throat, just tight enough for there to be a handprint later. Meanwhile, the other snaked down to your pussy, where he drew fast circles on your clit. Jeno’s cock was deep inside your cunt, it filled you to the brim and you were loving every minute of it. 
And so was he. The sound of skin slapping on skin, how your pussy fit his cock like a glove, how you moaned his name like you knew it well, how your back was practically glued to his chest. That made him go crazy; that made him fuck you even harder– a more vigurous pace that felt so good it brought you to tears. 
Jeno got a hold of one of your nipples, it was hard and practically begging for it to be twisted. You moaned at the feeling and begged for more through your tears, so Jeno’s arms crossed over your stomach, his hands reaching up to play with your nipples some more. He pulled at them until they slipped from his grip, he squeezed them until you begged for mercy. When he shoved two fingers in your mouth, you gagged and yet you could still go further. Jeno pulled his fingers out and covered your tits in your spit.
It didn’t take long for his hips to pick up the pace once he that he was about to cum. Your moans grew choppier and choppier as his thrusts became more sharp. 
“Shit, baby.” he groaned, his teeth biting down on your ear loab as he came. Your breaths were ragged in the moments of his orgasm, but you could feel his cock twitch inside you, even with the condom. Your body couldn’t keep up with the speed he was going at and soon enough you were shaking in his arms for a second time, cumming with him.
When Jeno pulled out, your head lolled backwards and you eyed him with a smile. Jeno kissed your temple and whispered his next words into your skin.
“On to the second condom, then?” You each laughed at his comment and Jeno wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly as he shook with laughter.
The boy helped you off of him before getting off the bed again to switch condoms. The exchange was quick and before you knew it, Jeno was hovering above of you once more, staring down at you like you were his prey. This predatory look formed a pit in your stomach, but the good kind. 
Jeno’s eyes scanned you from head to toe. 
Your body glistened with sweat, collarbones and throat covered with markings of all kinds, your nipples were puffy and wet, and your pussy was swollen and slick with juices. Everything looked delectable; you looked delectable and he was so tempted to consume it all. 
The boy picked up one of your legs and propped it over his shoulder and placed his tip at your entrance. He bottomed out smoothly, and this time you seemed to be able to handle his length much better. Your head sunk into the pillows as you let out a sigh. 
You watched how Jeno’s eyes closed when he felt your cunt wrap around him with his head falling back with pleasure. “Feels so good.” he groaned into the air, his jaw hanging open slightly as he continued to thrust. His head turned to the side and he brought your calf closer to his mouth, littering it with harsh bites and soft kisses.
Biting your lip, you reached your arm out, silently asking for him to come closer to you, to which he accepted. Setting your leg down, Jeno placed his arms on either side of your head, his face now just centimetres away from yours. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you wanted to keep the eye contact, so you mustered up the courage to look into his swirling orbs. In his eyes were a mix of emotions, ones that were unrecognisable to you, but you liked it. Tilting your head up slightly, you pecked his bottom lip lightly, which earned you a grin from Jeno. It grew wider when you wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him in even closer to you. He hummed and kissed you back forcefully as he picked up the pace, his balls slapping against you sharply. 
The tears that ran from your eyes down your cheeks seemed to motivate Jeno. Before, he could only hear your sobs, but seeing you cry switched something inside him. It made him want to fuck you harder, just to see you cry even harder. You looked so pretty, with your makeup all messy and tears running down your face. He loved it. 
So he fucked you harder, and so you cried harder, you moaned louder, and you pawed at his back. His skin was under your nails, he could feel how they cut into him the harder he thrust. You were driving him fucking insane. 
Jeno leaned his forehead on to yours as he moaned out sweet nothings. “I fucking love your pussy, fuck.” he cursed. His words made you tighten around his cock, which only made him groan louder, but it was like music to your ears. He felt like your pussy was sucking him in the way it would constrict when he fucked into you. 
“Jeno, please,” you whimpered, but you didn’t even know what you were begging for. “Fuck, Jeno, you’re so fucking good.” you repeated your words as you whined out to him. 
His words made your insides flutter, his movements made your heart race and your breaths quicker. Everything felt so good you could barely moan out words anymore. 
He was fucking you dumb and silly. You were nothing but drawn out exclamations and tears. You were so sensitive, and yet you didn’t even want to tell him to stop. 
It was just too good to stop.
So he kept fucking you, and he kept filling you, over, and over, and over again until you felt it. “Jen… Jeno, fuck, I’m cumming.”  Suddenly, Jeno pulled out again, the same way he did earlier, but this time, he crawled between your legs again, fingering you until you came while jerking himself off. This one hit you so hard that your mind went completely blank and no words could even come out of your mouth. Jeno couldn’t even register what happened until he felt a wet substance leak on to his sheet. 
He couldn’t fucking believe it.
His mouth latched on to your squirting cunt almsot immediately, drinking in your juices like it was water. Some  liquid dripped down his neck as he lapped up the rest that leaked from your pussy, but he never let up. He continued to eat you out so well even after you came, you thought you were going to do it again.
As your hand raked through his dark hair, all it took was one tug at his roots for him to cum. Jeno rode his high by fucking himself into his mattress, and until he was done, he rest in between your thighs. 
Slowly making his way up to you, you looked down, only to find that his dick was still hard. “You’re joking, right?”
“How about we finish that pack in a bit, hm?” he grinned, making you scoff. 
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Text
I'd Date A Fan - LN
Summary: Lando sees the same fan and interacts with her more and more till he realises he starts beginning to look for her in crowds at races and maybe he has a crush.
Warning: This is going to feed the delusion more than ever (at least for me) but I think we all deserve to feel like there's a 0.00000001% chance (not if you're under 18)
Shy fan/clumsy!reader
Bit of a shitty ending, sorry I didn't really know how far to take this. I didn't want to be writing forever but I hope it doesn't suck too much.
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Lando has openly admitted sometimes he's not in the mood to see fans but even in those occasions he will go sign stuff or take photos. In a good mood he'll really stand and have conversations, talk to them and interact.
Today he is feeling kind of social and in a good mood.
"Hey, how you guys doing?" Lando asks as he walks out of the hotel early in the morning because he's actually leaving and flying out of there.
"We're so good. Can you-Can you wait for a sec? My friend fell asleep over there and she'll be so heart broken if she misses meeting you." One of the young woman states making him nod.
There's only maybe 6 of them so he doesn't mind an extra one.
By the time the young woman rushes back, a few of the other fans have actually moved on which probably means those signed helmets and driver cards will be up on Ebay soon enough. Lando almost has to grin at the very disheveled you woman who looks nervous as much as she looks tired.
"Go on, he won't bite you." Y/f/n states nudging y/n forward as the young woman holds a 1:2 model helmet of his basketball helmet. "Y/n's too shy to ask, but can she get a picture too?"
"Yeah, of course." Lando nods trying not actually coo at y/n who is trying to tidy her hair while he signs the helmet.
"Y/f/n, I look awful." Y/n grimaces then smiling at Lando. "Sorry."
"Don't be sorry. You look great." Lando insists since he always tries to make sure fans are comfortable with him. He really doesn't need any stories about him being rude or making a fan upset by meeting him.
They do get a picture and y/n rambles out multiply thank yous and Lando does manage to get a hug from her, which y/f/n captures on video. Clearly being a 10/10 friend who wants to make sure there's evidence of these memories.
"You guys be safe." Lando smiles thanking them before he really has to go. "It was nice meeting you guys, hopefully I'll see you again soon."
"We'll be at Spa. So yeah, see you then." Y/f/n grins while holding y/n's hand.
-
Admittedly Lando didn't think anything more about y/n and y/f/n after initially meeting them. After all, if he thought abut every fan that he'd met in his career then he'd never stop thinking about them.
"Lando! Lando!" A familiar voice calls making him turn to find the familiar face and behind her is a slightly more put together and awake face that he recognises with ease.
Y/f/n looks almost flush with having clearly ran and probably fought her way through her fans to get them to see Lando.
"Hey, you guys made it." Lando smiles earning a nod as he finds himself look at y/n. "Anything else for me to sign?"
"Yeah, my top and her cap please." Y/f/n nods handing him a sharpie.
Lando's actually one of many signatures on the McLaren top. Y/f/n is collecting them but y/n's cap is free of any other pen.
"See, you've got loyalty. Keeping the number 4 cap to only have my signature on it." Lando smirks while y/n smiles shyly, yet to utter a word. "Are you feeling more awake this time?"
"Yes, slept in a hotel this time rather than in the back of a rental car." Y/n murmurs earning a grin from the curly haired driver. "Thank you for this-again."
"Thank you for being here." Lando nods before pausing. "Are you guys going to be at any other races?"
"Not till Abu Dhabi now." Y/n shrugs earning a small nod.
"What's your name again?" Lando asks making her puff out a breath looking almost sweaty at the question.
"Y/n y/l/n is her name." Y/f/n states quickly clearly the confident one and the one who seems to be more than fine to give out her friends information. "And if you like the sound of that, you should hear how good her number sounds."
"Y/f/n." Y/n mumbles in shock. "Sorry-we should let you go."
Y/n finally returns the favour of yanking y/f/n away and Lando thinks about following but instead knows better than to be caught chasing a fan. The rumours that would go around would just be a headache in themselves.
-
Y/n y/l/n.
Lando found her pretty easily after that race and proceeded to use burner accounts to stalk her, watch her stories and see her tagged posts. She's not on private but she only has about 400 followers, all of which seem to be friends of her.
Her and y/n seem to travel a lot and from what he can tell y/f/n is the well-off friend who pays for things and pulls y/n along as a plus one.
Or so he thought.
Till he looked at y/f/n's page and she's actually a motorsport influencer being trusted to do Motor GP content and going to other races including the Formula Regional (formerly Formula Renault). They go to karting races too.
By the time Lando gets to Abu Dhabi, he's in it deep with this woman.
She's not there on the Thursday and it's on the Friday when he doesn't seen her again but sees that she is there when she posts to her story pictures of the track from the grandstands.
"Maybe you should just try messaging her. Or her friend." Jon states as they out of the McLaren unit.
"If I don't find her by the end of the day maybe I will." Lando murmurs while moving through the paddock, his eyes darting around on the chance she could be in there.
"You are crushing hard on this girl. Do you even think she realises just that she's been stuck in your head?" Jon questions with a smirk since he has begun to love teasing the driver about it. Though he quickly darts his head around to look behind him. "Is that her?"
Lando being gullible falls for it and spins around in search of the young woman who is definitely not there.
"Dick."
"You're so easy to trick." Jon chuckles shaking his head.
The rest of the day goes on with Lando doing FP3 and qualifying, all before Jon decides to share some information.
"Hey, there's-" Jon states as they walk out of the media pen.
"Nice try, I'm not fall-"
"Lando!" Y/f/n exclaims making him spin around, but she's on her own and apparently reads his expression well. "You look disappointed."
"You're not-"
"It's good to see you, I was wondering when I might catch you." Lando cuts in knowing Jon is about to completely betray him. "You're on your own?"
"Oh, y/n is here. Somewhere, I lost her. I was actually going to ask since you're one of two people in the paddock who know her. If you spot her can you just tell her to meet me back at the hotel?"
"Yeah, yeah of course. Has she been missing for long?"
"She said she was going to the toilet and just never came back. Left her phone with me so I have no way of contact her. But I have a feeling when she can't find me she'll take herself back to the hotel. If she hasn't already."
"We'll keep an eye out." Lando nods earning a smile nod with a thanks before she takes off, clearly still looking for her friend.
Lando begins to look around and ends up staying later than he'd initially intended to. Which he begins to think was a waste of time till he sees a security guard walking with y/n while her arm is held to her chest in a sling.
"Y/n?" Lando calls making her turn from the conversation as Lando nears them. "Hey, y/f/n said you went missing what happened?"
"I...dislocated my shoulder." Y/n sighs earning a look of shock. "There was some kids running around and I don't know, I sort of fell over and I don't know, it hurt."
"I found her and managed to get her to the medical centre, they have to knock her out to put it back in place."
"So that's why you've been missing for so long." Lando smiles slightly amused by how her day took such a turn. "If you need I can give you a ride to your hotel."
"If y/f/n has disappeared already. That would probably be wise." Y/n nods before she smiles at him then turning to hug the security guy. "Thanks Benny."
"You're welcome, take care of yourself." Benny chuckles before nodding at Lando and moving away, presumably to get on with his other duties.
Lando smiles at her as they begin to walk and she sighs lightly, clearly not sure what to say.
"I was wondering when I'd see you actually. Thought you might have something else for me to sign." Lando jokes trying to break the tension which does earn a smile.
"Could sign my sling, but I do think I'd sell it. Not quite as cute to display next to a mini helmet and cap." Y/n states before clearing her throat. "You don't have to give me a ride, I can find another way."
"Do I come across as that much of an arsehole?" Lando smirks earning a flustered stutter before he pats her shoulder, glad he's on her uninjured side. "Where are you staying?"
He knows where she's staying, only because she shared it on her story and actually it's at the same Hilton hotel. Which he can guarantee was y/f/n's choice because y/n doesn't look like the type to choose anything unless it's the more humble and quiet option.
"The big Hilton one. God, I don't know the name...I think my head is still foggy." Y/n frowns raising her hand to her head.
"I'm staying there too, don't worry." Lando smiles before he gets an idea. "I was going grab something to eat actually. Would you want to join me? Food might do you some good with the brain fog."
Y/n looks at him looking almost stressed before seeming to search his eyes then softening slightly.
"Food does sound good." Y/n nods looking down shyly. "I don't know how well dressed I am for a meal."
"I think you look great."
Y/n clears her throat clearly not even sure how to handle a compliment from Lando.
He opens the car door for her, waiting till she's sat inside before he gently closes the door and moves around, climbing into the driver's seat and smiling brightly as he watches her click her seatbelt into place.
Lando manages to do most of the talking while always giving her opportunity to talk too. Then they get to the hotel and the valet helps her out before taking Lando's keys from him. As he predicted, she's fine to sit down and they get a slightly more secluded spot on Lando's request. Not because he wants to hide but because the chatter of other people might just drown out y/n's voice.
It's once they've ordered and the food has arrived that Lando finally decides to make his crush more obvious.
"You know I was actually hoping to find you so I could invite you and y/f/n to come sit in the garage for the race tomorrow." Lando states making his eyes look up at him widely, clearly shocked.
"That's...very kind of you." Y/n chokes out after what is definitely too long of a silence. "Too kind, I mean you hardly know us."
"I know you're a fan, so why not? You obviously deserve to see a race with the full experience." Lando shrugs earning a slight smile, almost looking impressed? "You can say no."
"No-I mean no, I don't want to say no-I'd like to. I'm sure y/f/n would love to as well." Y/n adds quickly then shifting with a small frown.
She tried to order something that would be easy to eat with one hand in the form of a pasta dish, but it's her dominant hand that's out of use.
"Are you struggling?"
"I'm fine." Y/n states quickly deciding to change tactics and shovel it rather than jab at it before trying to get back to their conversation after she chews and swallows down maybe more than she had intended to. "So you weren't happy with qualifying today?"
"I messed up. Should've done better." Lando sighs then shrugging. "I'll improve for next season. Work on my qualifying."
"You know...qualifying doesn't have to be the best if you have the ability to get back through the pack, and your race pace is amazing."
"Thank you." Lando smiles then leaning back a little as he keeps his gaze trained on her while she very obviously tries to avoid it. "You know, this isn't usually how I'd spend time with fans."
"Is that a good or bad thing?" Y/n laughs nervously before shifting clearly worried that she might not actually be wanted here right now.
"A good thing. A very good thing in my opinion." Lando shrugs beginning to feel his own slightly shyer side come out before he forces it away. Right now only one of them can be shy and he doesn't think she can force the confidence like she can. "I do have to confess something."
"What's that?" Y/n asks letting her gaze flick up to Lando.
"I may have found your instagram. You live the high life for a motorsport fan." Lando grins watching her face shift to a smile of her own. "Y/f/n works in the commentary side of it and just brings you along?"
"No. No. I mean yes, but no. I uhhh...not at like F1 races but at the smaller races, I do a lot of photography for them." Y/n explains making Lando look at her with a smile. "I have another page for it and I keep it separate from my own page so you might not have found it in your stalking."
"It wasn't as far as stalking." Lando quickly corrects earning a slightly more amused smile. "But no I didn't find that account. I do love photography though, so you should definitely give me the name of that account."
"Ok." Y/n nods assuming that will be later.
"So what's your favourite motorsport with you attending more of a variety than I ever have." Lando asks since he has witnessed her world tour with y/f/n around the world hitting up several motorsports.
"I think the karting is actually pretty good to watch. I know they're not going 200 miles an hour. But I don't know, they are always having fun and if they do get upset there's no filter so as an adult it's kind of funny to watch."
"It is funny to watch." Y/n giggles before she shrugs. "Actually it was quite fun getting to see some of your karts out and in use."
"Karting is fun. I still try to go karting when I can. Have you ever got yourself in a kart?"
"Mmm it's not really where my talents lie. Mainly because y/f/n is a sadist who takes joy out of doing everything to cause me harm." Y/n shudders at the memory while Lando can't help but laugh at the thought.
"Well I'd take care of you and not terrorise you on the track if you come karting with me." Lando grins then shifting. "Actually, we should go on another date and I'll get you in one of my karts for the best experience."
"A-Another date?" Y/n chokes out nearly paling. "This-This is a date?"
"I hope so." Lando mumbles mainly because he has admitted to himself now that he has a crush on this woman and he's hoping this time spent with her makes her realise that he really wants to spend more time with her and get to know her.
And really hopefully get into a serious long term relationship. He's already obsessed with her and enjoys her company, he can't think of any fault with her.
Of course there's time for that to change but he feels like his gut instinct has never failed him this far.
"Are you ok with this being a date?" Lando asks making her look at him for a moment.
"Yeah, that's ok. And so do more dates." She confirms watching Lando seem to relax, though she's not sure he knew he was so tense.
-
Lando had no shame about walking y/n to her room and getting a kiss that he was actually a little surprised that she initiated. Though she followed it up by rushing into her room and disappearing almost before he could open his eyes again.
The next morning he went out of his way to give both her and y/f/n a lift and that's when y/f/n exposes her plan worked.
"I knew the two of you would get along, I just had to make sure that y/n actually got your attention...not that I expected her to dislocate her shoulder-you really went off plan on your own with that one, y/n." Y/f/n states from the back seat while y/n seems to grimace and sink into the passenger seat.
"So this was all a ploy?" Lando smirks, actually sort of amused by the idea of being played by two unsuspecting people. He would maybe believe if y/f/n had pursued him for herself but setting out to get him for y/n. That maybe wasn't what he expected.
"Not by y/n, she told me I was crazy. But I know how much of a catch she is." Y/f/n shrugs then grinning and it paid off. "Tell me I'm wrong."
"I won't tell you that you're wrong." Lando surrenders as they pull up. "So be honest, did y/n talk about me loads?"
"Yes."
"Y/f/n!" Y/n groans rubbing her free hand over her face since her other hand is still restrained by the sling.
"Awww...it's cute. I'm flattered."
"Can we get out now?" Y/n questions since they're still in the car. "I'm being targeting."
"Out of love. I'm making sure he knows you're a fan. Who doesn't want to date someone who adores them? And we already know he's been stalking your ass, if even if you didn't realise." Y/f/n laughs then getting out and moving to help y/n out the car. "Maybe I should start leaving the boyfriend duties to Lando."
"Please for the love of god, stop opening your mouth." Y/n groans as Lando grins moving around to carry her bag, taking it from y/f/n and proudly holding y/n's hand.
"Oh you are just trying to trigger the shyness." Y/f/n laughs then moving around to y/n's other side. "I am a matchmaker who know know bounds."
"Guess we'll have to thank you in the future?" Lando jokes earning a grin.
"See, he's already great. We have no beef, that's a green flag. Though he is a scorpio."
"Here we go."
"Ignore her." Y/n laughs since they might've just found the point where y/f/n and Lando won't get along. "She's a pain."
"A pain who will be mentioned and credited in the wedding speeches." Y/f/n scoffs while y/n looks at her in horror over even thinking to mention a wedding. "Oh calm down. He's fine."
"Yeah, I'm not that easily scared." Lando smirks while y/n turns to look at him but he just shoots her a grin. "I already have like 4 dates planned out for us in my mind and it's the Winter break so I can devote so much time into this, you'll hate me soon."
"I feel like I've got two devils on my shoulders rather than a devil and an angel...but instead it's just the two of you."
"Lucky you." Lando grins then gently gesturing for them to go into the McLaren unit. "Welcome."
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theemporium · 3 months
Text
a wee blurb based off this and a conversation with @scuderiahoney 🤠
.
Oscar Piastri never got drunk, at least not in front of his fellow Formula One colleagues. 
It wasn’t obvious at first. He was a rookie, a new kid on the grid, the new guy who kind of started off with a bang before he even sat in the car with all the drama surrounding his contract. It wasn’t out of this world to assume he was a little shy and didn’t feel all that comfortable getting drunk with people who had known each other for years. 
But the season progressed and friendships grew, and yet still Oscar Piastri just never seemed to get drunk. 
He would have a drink or two, maybe a bottle of beer on top if he had a big meal beforehand. But he never passed the point of tipsy, never passed the point where he wasn’t totally aware of what he was doing. 
Lando had cornered Logan Sargeant after one of the races, hell bent on trying to figure out what the deal was with his teammate. 
“So what’s Oscar’s deal with drinking?” 
The blond turned to him, brows raised in surprise. “What?” 
“What’s his deal? Why does he not go beyond three drinks?” Lando questioned, insistent and eager for answers. 
“I don’t think that’s in my place to say—” Logan started before he was cut off. 
“Is he a recovering alcoholic?” 
Logan blinked. “What?” 
“I’m not judging!” Lando quickly added, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’d just feel like a right dick if I was pushing him to do something he was recovering from, you know?” 
“And you went straight to alcoholism?” Logan shook his head. “Dude, did it ever occur to you that maybe he just doesn’t like drinking?” 
Lando narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Have you ever seen him drunk?” 
Logan paused, only for a few seconds but it was enough to make the Brit gasp. 
“You have!” Lando grinned when he noticed a flush spread across Logan’s face. “Oh god, that must mean it’s embarrassing! What’s the deal, huh? Does he start stripping after four drinks? Get angry? Turn into the Incredible Hulk?” 
Logan rolled his eyes. “I don’t think Oscar would appreciate me saying, he gets shy about it.”
The Brit let out a huff. “You’re no fun to gossip with, Sargeant.” 
But as it would turn out, Lando and the rest of the grid would find out exactly why Oscar never went beyond his three drink limit in the Aussie’s second season. 
The season was young, the car was good and by some fucking miracle, Oscar had found himself on the podium at his home race. It was a thrill he never expected to feel, it was a buzz that he felt himself slowly becoming addicted to. And the fact there was a large group of people he called home cheering him on when he accepted his trophy definitely didn’t help. 
He was on a high and he didn’t want to stop—and neither did the drinks. It seemed like every driver he bumped into in the small club seemed eager to buy him a drink to celebrate, and Oscar was so high on adrenaline that he couldn’t bring himself to care about his limit. 
It was somewhere after his fifth drink and his third round of shots when Lando found him. He looked lost as he stood in the middle of the dance floor, his lips turned down (almost in a pout) and his wide eyes looking around the place. 
Lando frowned, making his way over as he clapped his teammate on the shoulder. “You all good, mate?” 
To his surprise, Oscar shrugged his hand off with a frown. “No.”
Lando blinked, something quite like concern bubbling inside him. “No? Did something happen?” 
“I—” Oscar paused as he continued to look around the club. “I want her.” 
“Huh?” 
“I want—” Oscar let out a frustrated noise, almost a bit like a whine. “I want my girl. Where’s my girl?” 
Realisation slowly dawned on Lando as he noted the fact you weren’t with your boyfriend. He knew you joined them at the club, the three of you had taken a taxi together but he hadn’t seen you in a few hours. 
“Uh, I don’t know, mate,” Lando answered honestly, which didn’t feel the right thing to say as Oscar began to push through the crowd. “Woah, Oscar—”
“I want my girl,” Oscar muttered once again, barely audible over the blasting music. 
Lando was quick to follow him through the crowd, aimlessly trying to help and make Oscar stand in one place so they could text you but the boy seemed hell bent on having you in his arms in that second. 
It took five minutes—five long, agonising minutes—before they found you. The second Oscar’s eyes landed on you, it was like the pouty boy from before was nowhere to be seen as a huge grin took over his face. 
“MY GIRL!” 
You couldn’t help but let out a giggle as your boyfriend barrelled towards you, wrapping his arms around you and practically pressing every inch of his body against yours. 
Lando watched as you hugged him back, as your grin matched his whilst you pressed a kiss to his cheek. He waited for the two of you to pull apart, to stand shoulder to shoulder because that was usually as touchy as either of you got in public. 
But Oscar didn’t let go. 
“Baby,” you murmured, your voice soft and amused as Oscar nuzzled his head further into the crook of your neck. 
“Uh,” Lando couldn’t even help himself, the alcohol in his system fuelling his confusion and loose lips. “Is he okay?” 
You turned to the Brit, a smile on your lips. “Oh yeah, he just gets a bit…clingy when he’s drunk.” 
“M’not clingy,” Oscar grumbled but he made no move to pull himself away from you. 
“Of course not,” you mused as your hands fell to either side of his cheeks, lifting his head enough to press a kiss to his forehead before letting it fall down to lean on your shoulder again. You turned to Lando with a shrug. “We’ll probably head out now. You joining us?” 
“Nah,” Lando waved you off, still somewhat flabbergasted by what he was witnessing. “You think you’ll get him home alright by yourself?” 
You snorted. “He’s basically a big baby at this point, I’ve got him.” 
“M’not a baby,” Oscar huffed out. 
You only grinned in response. “C’mon, baby, let’s go.” 
Oscar lifted his head, blinking slowly with a hopeful look on his face. “Cuddles?” 
“Cuddles,” you confirmed, waving the Brit goodbye before you made your way towards the exit of the club. 
Lando stood there, mouth agape as he stared at your parting figures when Logan found him. The American was grinning from ear to ear, taking a long dreg from his beer bottle. 
“It would’ve been less of a mindfuck if he was an alcoholic, right?” Logan commented with a snort. 
“I feel…dirty seeing him so touchy,” Lando whispered. 
Logan laughed. “Yeah, just be glad you haven’t seen him when he’s high yet.” 
Lando’s head snapped around, looking both intrigued and alarmed. “Why? What is he like when he’s high?” 
The boy grinned wider.
“LOGAN, WHAT DO YOU MEAN?”
.
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astralstarlight · 3 months
Text
walking in on you with your favourite toy !
w/ sukuna and choso (separate)
warnings/tags: implied fem! reader (bc that's how i'm thinking about it in my head rn), suggestive, 18+, no curses AU, in a relationship with choso, it's anyone's business who you are to sukuna (housemates maybe??), definitely not in a relationship with him though and you probably have to deal with him walking around shirtless all the fine and looking fine, the toy is a vibrator
a/n: thinking about them a lot recently
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Sukuna is not amused. This is not his fault.
If you were going to be doing such private things, then you should lock your door.
"I can explain." You say.
Sukuna gives you a once-over. You're extremely calm for someone who's just had a ruined orgasm. The vibrator is still buzzing a little away from where you'd given up on trying to turn it off and just thrown it to the side for hopes of bringing some small sense of decency back onto your naked form. The blanket is haphazardly tossed over your legs.
It barely covers you.
You're wearing a big t-shirt and nothing else on the bottom half. He got a pretty good glimpse in your panic anyways — wet, wanting, twitching... He can't seem to get it out of his mind anymore.
An eerie acceptance settles over your face. It must be the adrenaline, Sukuna deducts.
"Okay." Sukuna says, crossing his arms and pushing the door closed behind him. "Explain."
"Well." And you have the audacity to hesitate on your words still, as though he isn't already wasting his time and attention on you. "You should knock." Pause. "Next time."
Sukuna lets out a barking laugh. "There won't be a next time, brat." He stalks over to you. It's a bit more imposing than you would imagine, especially when his eyes are scanning over your form as though he's already eating you up in his mind. He decides to toss a side-glance to your vibrator in an attempt to embarrass you further, before drawing his attention back to you.
It works, a brief flicker of panic exposing itself on your face as you seem to finally catch up to the situation.
"Just ask. But don't try to be cute about it." Sukuna continues.
"Sukuna?" You ask timidly, still trying to figure out what he's actually proposing.
"I told you not to be cute about it."
That seems to rile you up, and you feel a flash of annoyance run through you. "I'm cute about everything."
You just get to finish your sentence, before he cups your jaw dangerously tight, tilting your face to look up at him. Perhaps you weren't such a quiet and innocent housemate after all. The way your cheeks squish together is kind of cute actually.
He thinks you might look better crying.
A sound between a questioning mumble and a choke leaves your throat. You open your mouth to say something else, but his fingers are already tracing down to your collarbone. He tilts his head slightly as he feels your breath hitch.
"Lie back." Sukuna says, nudging your shoulder a little.
It's a final warning, you realise. A checkpoint in deciding whether you want to continue or not.
You do follow his instructions, jerking slightly as he manages to slide his hand onto you and press down onto your sensitive clit. His hands quickly move to keep your legs open.
He stops moving for a bit and you peek up at him to see what he's doing. The vibrator is in his hand, looking rather small and pathetic.
"We'll see how easily you cum from this, and depending on whether you impress me..." His eyes travel from your lower half up to your eyes. "I'll show you how good it'll feel to take me."
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Choso is polite about it. Every kiss you've shared with him has been soft, sweet even. He's never shown any particular interest in furthering it. It's why you're so oddly embarrassed when he walks in on you with your vibrator pressed against your clit.
"Choso!" You manage to slip the vibrator out of your hands and turn it off, ignoring the urge to pull the blankets over your head.
His face reveals no surprise, nor a blush. A feeling of insecurity runs through you and a stinging starts behind your eyes. Huh.
In the silence, he's staring very intently at your closed legs. He takes a step into the room, still saying nothing.
You jump slightly when he sits beside you on the bed. He's uncertain, bordering on nervous as his fingers twitch slightly.
It's quiet enough that you think you should say something.
"Choso—" You say again, in a softer, more reassuring tone.
He cuts you off. "I'll help."
The matter-of-fact tone makes you blush. You forget how straightforward he usually is.
You shake your head. "It's fine. If you're uncomfortable with it or you're not really sure, you don't need to—"
Choso reaches under the covers from where you've thrown your vibrator. The top of it still glistens with your slick. He takes it out, twisting it in his hand as though to investigate it. He presses the button until it vibrates a bit too loudly.
It's not a setting you usually would have set it on to start with.
"Just tell me what to do." He says.
Good thing there's a lot of different settings for him to play with under your guidance.
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evie-sturns · 3 months
Text
ᴠɪʀɢɪɴ - ᴄʜʀɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ
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summary: chris has always been your best friend until one night everything changes when you lose your virginity to him.
contains: smut, gentle chris, swearing, fluff.
———------------.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.-----------------——
chris and i tell eachother everything, i mean everything. we've been friends since the 6th grade and have no secrets, except for one. i'm a virgin. in my defence hes never really asked but its my biggest insecurity
its 11pm, me, nick, matt, chris and madi are sitting on the sturniolos couch, im cuddled against nick as matt and chris scroll on their phone.
madi is talking about a hookup experience right infront of us. ive never really hung out with her alone but she seems to overshare. a lot. "y/n, you know how when then finish they make strange ass noises?" she continues "mhm.." i lie, "but oh my god he was making demonic sounds like what the fuck" she says laughing.
after 5 more minutes of her talking, i feel humiliated, everyone else in the room except for me is laughing along with her and agreeing.
she wont stop.
i grab my phone then stand up off the couch, walking out of room in and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. i hear the living room go silent apart from a few whispers "chris go see whats wrong!" i hear nick say quietly and then shuffling, followed by 3 knocks on the bathroom door.
"y/n? you okay?" i hear chris say softly.
"please go away chris."
"im not gonna go away sweetheart, please talk to me." chris whispers through the door.
after a few minutes i unlock the door. chris opens it slowly to find me inside, eyes puffy from the few tears i shed. "oh y/n.." chris says sympathetically before pulling me into a hug, rubbing my back. "c'mon, lets go to my room so you can talk to me." he offers and i nod. he takes my hand as we open the door to his bedroom.
he sits down on the floor, resting his back against the side of his bed. i sit down next to him and lay my head on his shoulder.
i take a deep breath "im a virgin." i say bluntly, but quietly. he tenses slightly then nods understandably.
"and its fucking embarrasing when madis talking about fucking random dudes infront of me, its quite frankly humiliating." i continue "because im almost 21 and ive never done anything." i sigh.
an uncomfortable silence grows for a few seconds "this might be weird, and if you dont want to we can never talk about any of this again, but i could.." he pauses
"i could help..?" he says nervously
"help?" i repeat, slightly confused.
"i mean we've been best friends for like 9 years, i could y'know. teach ya? like platonically though." he says holding my hand.
another silence grows.
"okay!" i say nervously
"ok?" he whispers
"you can, lead the way?" i offer and he smiles.
he stands up, before leaning down and pulling me up by my wrists. we're both clearly nervous. "do i uh, have your like.. full consent?" he says concerned and i let out a small laugh "yes chris, you do, you're the person im most comfortable with."
he lifts his shirt off over his head, i blush, why am i blushing?
he throws his shirt to the floor before pulling mine off, revealing my white bra, which he quickly unclasps. he leans down and grabs my jaw, pulling me into a soft kiss. my heart rate increases as i realise this is chris, my best friend.
he picks me up by my ass and places me gently on my back on his mattress, the same one that we were giggling on yesterday. he pulls down my shorts, then my panties. leaving me revealed on the bed. he looms over me before pulling me by my thighs to the edge of the bed. he leans down between my thighs, his cold breath against my heat.
he drags his tongue all the way from my hole to my clit forcing a desperate moan out of me. "tastes so fucking good." he mumbles which causes me to squirm. he stands up and unbuckles his leather belt, letting it fall to the floor before he unbuttons his baggy jeans.
he stands in-between my legs in his boxers, it feels wrong, but so fucking right. "you ready baby?"
baby?
"im nervous chris, what if it hurts."
"dont be, it doesnt have to hurt, mhm?" he says reassuringly as he nods his head at me.
"i trust you chris.." i say smiling as he grabs the inside of my thigh "can you spread a little more?" he says and i comply.
after what feels like forever he pulls down his boxers slowly, letting his boner spring out, hitting his stomach. i instantly sit up in shock "chris-." i stutter as i look up at him
"you're okay, it wont hurt if you relax. ill go super slow hm?" he reasures and i nod.
"lay back down princess." he whispers.
i lay back down and reach for chris's hand, its always been a comfort thing for me and right now i need it more than ever.
his dick is strangely perfect.
i take a deep breath and squeeze chris's hand as his tip pushes against my entrance. he pushes slowly inside of me, giving me only an inch or two. "fuck you're so tight." he groans making my stomach flip. "you look so beautiful taking me mhm."
as he sinks deeper into me, his balls lightly pressing against my ass.
the same boy who i used to beg to play barbies with me is now balls deep inside of me.
im a moaning mess as chris giggles slightly
"what the fuck is funny chris" i say smiling
"your moans." he says nonchalantly as he starts to thrust, kissing my cervis each time
"shut up.." i say in between moans as i squeeze his hand tighter.
without warning he pulls out which causes me to immediately grab him and pull him closer "i didnt finish chris!" i say frustrated
"shh sh, i know i know, i want you to ride me. can you do that for me?" he says which almost makes me orgasm from his words.
"okay."
he lays down beside me and grabs my waist pulling me ontop of his so im sitting on his thighs. i prop myself up above his tip as he grabs my hips. i slowly sink down on him, feeling every inch of him filling me up. i moan loudly causing him to slam a hand over my mouth "shh." he whispers as i bounce up and down, i squeeze my eyes shut as my moans are muffled by his hand.
"y/n baby, im close okay? i want you to cum with me." he groans as i bounce faster on his cock
"you ready?" he says as his breathing becomes quicker. i nod as i clench around him, instantly making him release inside of me. i follow right after him as i collapse on his chest, he reaches a hand down pulling himself out of me.
he holds me tight against his chest, my breasts push against his hard chest while he grabs my ass. "you did so fucking good, so good." he whispers into my hair. "you want me to get you dressed baby?" he offers and i nod, sitting up on his stomach. he sits up and i slide off him onto his bed. as he stands up, he holds up my panties and shoves them in his pocket. before i have time to question it hes pulling me onto my feet.
he picks me up and slings me over his shoulder. i squeal as he keep a firm grip on my thigh. pulling my shorts onto me. he places me back down onto my feet and puts my bra on. "is this right" he says with a slight laugh "yeah surprisingly!!" i say with a wide grin before pulling my shirt on.
chris finishes getting dressed and plants another kiss on my lips "was that okay for you? i hope it didnt hurt" chris asks softly "yeah it felt.. really fucking good chris." i say wiping my eyes in embarrassment.
he grabs my hand and takes me into the living room. nick is looking at chris with disgust and everyones dead silent "did you guys just fuck." matt says breaking the silence and my heart drops to my stomach
"what.." i say defensivley
"the load ass moans?" nick yells angrily.
the silence grows as chris looks like hes seen a ghost as i look up at him
chris suddenly starts "she got her period, so i took her up to my room so she could grab some fucking.. products. she was crying, they may of sounded like moans to you but she was just upset." he lies so confidently straight through his teeth which almost makes me burst out laughing.
"so im taking her home alright?" chris continues.
"shit sorry guys." nick says embarrassed "see you tommorow y/n, feel better" matt says and i smile at him.
(4 weeks later)
"hey baby, i got you these!" chris says walking into my bedroom with flowers "for what exactly" i say laughing "one month anniversary dumb fuck." chris says giving me a kiss on my lips.
4 weeks ago when he dropped me off he confessed to me.
he said he'd liked me for a while now, as in 5 years.
i hated to admit it, but i had felt the same.———------------.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.-----------------——
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darkenedurge · 5 months
Text
𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐭.
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CONTENT : Fem/Elf Tav | Subby Rolan, but then he gets a little more confident muahaha | Tail Play | Heated Make-Outs | Messy Confession | Fingering (F Receiving) | P in V Sex | Rip Lorroakan (fuck that bitch) | Creampiiieee 🥧 | Tiefling Tail Head-Canons (ofc)
A/N : i’ve been wanting to write rolan for so long idk why it took me forever but AGH here we are i <3 tieflings
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Rolan's head is reeling. Thoughts, realisations, spinning within the cavern of his skull. Lorroakan, gone. And, he owes thanks yet again to his 'valiant' hero. To which, he raises his head – lips, parting to speak.
Yet, not even a breath escapes him – not before he's barrelling backward into a bookshelf, hands grasping at his robes, and lips upon his own. Her lips. The lips he'd dreamed of for so long, lips he'd yearned for – yet so painfully denied himself.
Her tongue isn't patient, as impatient as she, winding its way into his mouth with a soft noise of satisfaction. In turn, he whines, hands reaching to grapple at any part of her he could blindly reach – clawing at her hips, drawing her nearer.
She rolls her hips into his, arousal coiling within his abdomen, and he has to muster all that he has to break for air – instantaneous in his mourning at the loss of her lips, her taste.
"What are you.. doing..?" Is all he can manage, in a panted breath, a string of saliva still connecting them – his gaze, hazy with desire, as he peers at her through half-lidded eyes.
"Something I should've done a long time ago," She replies, blunt, simple. Her hand brushes a strand of hair back, away from his face, touch uncharacteristically gentle in comparison to what he'd just witnessed – "I really like you, Rolan."
He almost laughs. In fact, no, he does laugh – a small, quiet huff of amusement. "I think we've established that," He quips, snarky as ever, "But for what it's worth, I like you too. A lot."
A brief pause. His eyes dart from corner to corner. Flitting between bloodshed, books and..
Her companions are nowhere to be found. To that, he internally, mentally, breathes a loud, genuine sigh of relief. She notices, a coy smile playing at her lips, her fingers dipping beneath his robes – fingertips cold, against the harshness of his warmth, bumping over the ridges that decorated his skin. Rolan feels a shiver crawl up his spine, eyes fluttering to a momentary close, as a shaking, uneven breath ghosts past his lips.
“So, are we going to finish what we started?” Comes her voice, Gods her voice, once more – the words purred against his ear, her teeth grazing his skin. He’s unable to swallow the whimper that fights its way out, chest notably heaving, “My ears are s– ahh.. sensitive..”
She hums, hand seeking purchase in his underwear, but lingering just above the waistband – awaiting consent. “I assumed as much,” She murmurs, “Elven ears are only the same..”
“So, I’m your first tiefling?” He asks, voice dipping to a low, rasping hum, as he guides her hand to his cock – hips stuttering as her hand began teasing, languid strokes, thumb paying mind to the ridges that adorned his shaft – alongside bitterly teasing the tip with clear intent. He moans. Pitched, and unrestrained.
“First, and last.” Is her reply, brows knitted in concentration as she peers down at her own working hand, wrist expertly twisting, earning further, mewling whines from Rolan’s mouth.
Rolan’s own, fickle, fantasies paled in comparison to the reality that had now so graciously dawned upon him, his thighs tensing with every pump of her fist.
“So sensitive,” She muses, and his hands grapple for the bookshelf behind him, “I wonder if your tail is the same..”
“Don’t–!” Rolan gasps, but his fragile warning is cast upon deaf ears, her spare hand already pinching the tip of his tail between her thumb and forefinger. He yelps, spilling over her hand with trembling of his thighs.
“Oh,” Her tongue swipes over her fingers, before they sink into her mouth, tasting his seed – “Very sensitive.”
The after-shock of Rolan’s orgasm blurs his vision, whirls his head. So much so that he hardly, if at all, processes her movements – the disappearing of his tail, within the caverns of her mouth, slick with saliva. It’s not until her cheeks hollow, and a spasm of pleasure writhes through him, earning a waned whimper from the back of his throat. “Don’t– I can’t, I– too sss–sensitive..”
Rolan tugs, his tail pleading for exit – her jaw falls slack, brows arched in question. He has to catch his breath, and he does so; though, incredibly unsteadily. Meekly.
“I’m sorry,” His hands, without forewarning, toy with her armour – a silent begging for her to be rid of it, bloodshed and all, “I can’t cum again, not unless it’s inside of you.” She blinks, still and unprepared for the first time since the mere moments ago that their encounter started. Her senses, however, are swift in their return – and she peels off piece after piece, revealing every curve; every freckle, every shred of skin that Rolan could only have ever dreamed of touching, tasting.
Rolan’s robes are much less hassle, and to a silent God he offers his thanks for it. Stripped bare in front of one another, silence offers it’s blanket. It’s her, who moves first, fingertips dancing from his shoulders, right down to his knuckles. He notices the faintest of smiles playing at her lips, adoring in its nature. With a swallowed breath, Rolan outlines her waist, her hips, thighs, ass, with his hands.
“You’re warm,” She states, softly. He hums, and with a sharp pull on his behalf – their bodies are pressed flush. Wordlessly, she’s lead backward – thighs hitting the edge of something hard, sharp, earning an expel of air from her mouth. A desk. Lorroakan’s desk.
With a grunt of effort, she was splayed before him – upon the wood of the desk, his tail wound around her leg, spreading her open with gentle encouragement. His fingers press to her lips, and she understands – tongue swirling, wetting them. With a ‘pop!’, the digits are released – sinking impatiently into her pleading, begging cunt. Rolan gasps, her cunt hot, and tight around his fingers, as they slid, in, out, in, out. He curls them, and her head is thrown back. Thumb, paying mind to her neglected bud, circling it.
“So wet,” He murmurs, not toward her in particular – more so, a thought that had accidentally been uttered aloud. Regardless, he doesn’t regret it. No, her reply only makes him wish he’d said more.
“Because it’s you, Rolan.” She whines.
Gods, he couldn’t wait anymore. She groans, at the absence of his fingers, and he shushes her. “So greedy,” He mewls, “Even when you’re about to get exactly what you want.”
The inside of her greets his cock far differently in comparison to that of his fingers. She clenches, near immediately, and blissfully so. His hips are steady at first, cautious. Until they’re not, her hands finding his in an act of desperation, as his hips piston at an impossible pace – her hips rolling in tandem with his harsh, needy thrusts. Lewd sounds encapsulate the room, skin against skin, raw noises ripped equally from both of their throats. It’s heaven, if such a place truly exists.
Delirious, Rolan barely registers, notices, the premature arrival of his orgasm crawling up his spine, strumming his nerves. A guttural, cracked moan is yanked from his mouth, and he spills inside of her – eyes blown wide. “I’m sorry,” His nose, buries in the crook of her neck, “M’sorry.”
He feels the shaking of her head, light and affectionate, against him. “It’s alright,” A kiss, tender as its pressed to his hair, “I wanted you to.. I’m yours now.”
“Mine.” The word, singular, is spoken through a hidden smile.
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sanatomis · 11 days
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⋆.ೃ࿔* ── 𝐃𝐈𝐘-𝐃𝐀𝐃!
it’s career day, and megumi has to bring his dad to school so he can tell the class about his job. the problem? he only has a 20-year-old sorcerer-guardian who has the brain capacity of a walnut.
content. canon divergence (suguru’s alive and studying to be a kindergarten teacher), possible ooc characters, female!reader.
notes. guys i’m a sucker for satoru who really, really tries and isn’t just a goofy man-child ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১ also ! thank you all for your patience, it took me a while to finish this piece bc of uni, so i'm vv happy it's finally done <3
taglist. | masterlist.
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“I don’t have a dad.” 
As cruel as it may be, a part of Megumi hopes that the sentence makes his teacher greatly uncomfortable. Demanding for a father to attend a Career Day at school simply isn’t fair to children without one—or, well, to the child without one. It’s not his fault his father hauled ass and left, so why is she making this so difficult for him? 
“Oh,” she mumbles. It seems his arrow hit the target, as her eyebrows pull together in a frown and she shifts her weight between her feet. “Well, you, uh, have a male guardian, don’t you?”
Megumi grimaces. Instantly, he thinks back to last week. Satoru Gojo, self-proclaimed strongest, had hit his head on a kitchen cabinet. With a dramatic pout and an overexaggerated wobble to his lips, he clung to you for hours. Some affection will make it all better!
Of course, when Megumi criticised his skills surrounding his infinity technique—because, really, how couldn’t it block a simple cabinet—the sorcerer opted to ignore him. He suspects there was some foul play at hand. 
“Barely,” he mutters, as the memory resurfaces. 
His teacher lets out a startled hum. “I’m sorry?”
“Nothing,” Megumi says quickly. He watches as she starts typing on her computer, and the realisation that she’s probably currently taking a look at his file isn’t a particularly welcome one. “What about my other guardian? Can I bring her, instead?”
“This event is geared towards fathers,” she explains. It’s obvious she forgot her reading glasses today, Megumi thinks, as she needs to narrow her eyes to read the screen in front of her. “I have one Satoru Gojo noted down as your male guardian. Surely, he will be able to attend.” 
Megumi pauses. He blinks up at her expressionlessly, and fights off the urge to push his teacher down a well. You often preach about being kind to others, and that wouldn’t be very kind. 
“Can’t I take my oth—”
“I’m afraid not,” she interrupts him before he even gets the sentence out. It irks him. Megumi isn’t fond of speaking to begin with, so when he does, he’d prefer not to be cut off halfway through. “An exception will not be made. Please, make sure to bring Gojo-san to school.” 
Megumi briefly, and for the very first time ever, mourns the fact that you and Satoru weren’t married. A small part of him calls the man a coward for not asking you to. If he’d simply taken the step, then Megumi would be able to pass you off as Gojo-san. Unfortunately, he can’t, and it’s becoming increasingly clear that there’s no way around this problem. 
“Fine,” he grumbles. It takes all of his remaining willpower to not stomp out of the classroom. Once again, he thinks of you. It’d be extremely bad manners. He can’t find it in himself to wish his teacher a nice day this time, though, and so she’ll have to make due with a slightly less polite Megumi for today. 
There’s nothing he can do about it. Satoru will have to come to the school. 
Megumi suddenly despises the idea of Career Day. 
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“I need you to come to my school next week.” 
Immediately, all chatter around the dining table stops. For once, Megumi finds himself annoyed at the sudden appearance of silence. Before he said it, he knew his words would most likely have such an effect—he just didn’t expect it to be so instant. 
He tries his best to feign nonchalance, as if the topic that’s coming up didn’t make him feel stressed-out beyond belief. The confused, startled glances you and Satoru share don’t do much to help him, either. Perhaps it’s because Megumi is looking straight at him; him instead of you. Yeah, Satoru, he isn’t a fan of it, either. 
“Me?” The man asks then, and Megumi has to resist the urge to say, ‘no, I meant the snail in the backyard—yes, you,’ in the most sarcastic voice he can muster up. Satoru once again steals a look at you, ever so oblivious to Megumi's mental remarks. “Don’t you mean—” 
“I don’t,” Megumi cuts him off solemnly. His lips are pursed shut, and he pokes the slices of pork belly in his bowl with his chopsticks. One didn’t need to be of particularly high intelligence to notice the boy’s displeasure.  “I have to bring a male figure for Career Day.” 
It’s slow, the morphing of Satoru’s face, but it happens gradually and doesn’t stop until he’s positively beaming. Megumi doesn’t like it one bit. Nothing good happens when he looks like that, and he’s quite sure that all that will spew out of his mouth in a few seconds will be nothing except for pure nonsense. 
“Well, luckily, I will have the day off, then!” Satoru chimes, with a smile so wide it causes two dimples to appear on his cheeks. You copy his smile, and gently go to poke the little dent in his skin—Satoru lets you, as he always does. Megumi would think of it as cute if he weren’t so annoyed. “I will be there.” 
It seems he was right. Satoru’s words are pure nonsense.
“I didn’t tell you when,” he comments dryly. 
The sorcerer blinks. His smile is still on his face, but it’s fading, and the dimples do so with it. Your hand hovers halfway in the air, stuck with nothing to poke, and you slowly bring it back down to your side. It seems neither of you had taken time to think about that small fact—Megumi blames Satoru for dragging you down with him; him and those indentations in his cheek that you always seem to coo over. 
“Oh,” Satoru mumbles. A crease between his brows forms as his brain hurries to catch up with the newfound information. A few seconds pass, and then the previous bravado returns. “Well, it doesn’t matter! I can take the day off. When do you need me? Tell me, and I’ll be there.” 
Megumi very much doubts he can take days off all willy-nilly like that, especially after he pushed his workload onto someone else to attend his science fair last time, but then again, what does he know? If Satoru didn’t care about the consequences of his actions, then Megumi wasn’t about to break his own head doing so, either. 
“Next Friday,” he mumbles. From the tone of his voice, it’s quite clear that he’d rather be saying anything else. “We have to leave at eight a.m., please, be on time.”
“Sure thing!” Satoru chimes, and with that, Megumi thinks the dreaded conversation has finally come to an end. 
All in all—it could’ve gone worse. At least Satoru didn’t prolong it unnecessarily. Nor did he add a bunch of relentless teasing. He glances at the sorcerer. Satoru is happily munching on the dinner you’d prepared, both his cheeks stuffed full with entirely too much rice. It’s unbecoming, and a reflection of his poor manners, Megumi thinks, and he doesn’t understand how you look at the man with such hearts in your eyes. 
Though, your more than adequate cooking seems to have saved him from one of Satoru’s onslaughts. He’s grateful. Even if he doesn’t particularly enjoy the sight in front of him. 
“Hey, ‘toru?” You ask, breaking the silence with a slight hesitation to your voice. It nearly sounds nervous, and both Megumi and Tsumiki look up in alarm. Satoru hums, still chewing away. “What are you going to tell the class?”
Satoru stops eating. His chewing comes to a halt, and his chopsticks freeze in the air. A slice of pork drops from between them, and falls back into his bowl—It’s not hard to see the cogs turning in his head. “Uhm, I. . .” He swallows the food still in his mouth, and clears his throat. 
Right. It’s Career Day—but Satoru can’t tell a bunch of seven to eight-year-olds that he hunts and kills grimy, ugly, and freakishly scary curses for a living, now, can he? Megumi doesn’t think that would go over well with the other parents. The boy sighs. It’s just one thing after another. He grimly believes the world might just be out to get him. 
“I. . .Oh! I can tell them I’m a teacher,” his guardian scrambles for a solution, and Megumi can’t help but think it’s a little lack-lustre. Who would believe that guy is a teacher, anyway? Then again. . .Megumi doesn’t know a better fix for their current problem, either. He was so focused on the fact that it was Satoru that had to come to the school, he all but forgot about the fact that the dear thorn-in-his-side didn’t possess a normal job. “Suguru has told me a thing or two about his internship. I can take inspiration from there.”
Ah, yes. The famed Suguru Geto. Megumi has met him before. He hasn’t actually spoken to him, however. The man often visits, and has twin girls clinging to him when he does, and while Tsumiki seems to really like him—and them—Megumi doesn’t have an interest in seeking out some form of interaction, yet. Whenever he comes over, Megumi opts to hide in his room. Suguru never tries to disturb him, nor does he try to coax him into coming out. He’s very grateful for it. 
So, despite never speaking to him, Megumi knows about Suguru. Well, he knows enough. He knows Suguru went to school with the two of you, and he knows something really, very bad (nearly) happened that caused the man to take a step back from the world you all live in. What exactly happened (or what didn’t happen), Megumi doesn’t know for sure. You and Satoru almost never speak about it, and when you do, it’s in hushed voices—and you always stop immediately when he enters the room. 
But that’s okay. He doesn’t need to know. Suguru doesn’t force himself upon Megumi, and so he will extend him the same courtesy.  “I thought Geto-san wasn’t a teacher, yet?” Tsumiki speaks up from beside him, tilting her head to the side in confusion. “Mimi and Nana said he’s still learning. How can he be teaching, already?” 
“He’s not a teacher, yet, munchkin, well spotted,” Satoru answers with a proud grin. The nickname annoys Megumi—the feeling of irritation has been conditioned into his very being after Satoru chose it as the designated nickname for both of them. “An internship helps him build experience in the field. It means he is still learning, but he will do so while teaching.”
Tsumiki nods in understanding, her mouth opens and her lips curl into a small ‘ah’ as the information settles in. “So, you will pretend to be a teacher, then? At Megumi’s school?”
Satoru bites on his bottom lip, seemingly deep in thought. Seemingly—as Megumi is quite convinced he doesn’t ever think before he speaks. “I think so, yes,” he explains, and unknowingly retorates Megumi’s train of thoughts. How annoying. Satoru looks towards you for approval; it’s something he does very often. “It’s probably the safest route, no?”
“It’s our best option,” you say, and bring a thumb up to the corner of Satoru’s mouth. Gently, you wipe away a grain of rice stuck to his skin. It’s effortless, and nearly automated. Megumi wonders how many times you’ve had to do that. “Pretending to be a teacher shouldn’t be too difficult a task. Right, mochi?”
“Right,” Satoru echoes. His eyes track your every move, and the slight, pink colouring of his cheeks doesn’t seem to embarrass him even a little bit. Megumi thinks it should. Have some decorum. “I can do it, no problem.” 
“Alright then,” you say, and smile. First at Satoru, and then at Megumi. You look at the boy for a few seconds; you’re about to ask him if he’s okay with it. He knows you are, because you always do. “Is that okay for you, Megumi?” It’s like clockwork, almost. 
Megumi feels the need to answer with something snarky. Something akin to the sound of ‘What choice do I have?’ but he doesn’t—because you’re being kind, and you don’t deserve such a response. So, instead he turns towards Satoru.
“. . .Just don’t mess it up.” 
Satoru delivers a whole spiel about how ‘he’d never do that’ and that he’s ‘more than capable’ of telling a little white lie, but Megumi dilutes it to background noise rather quickly. He continues sputtering his nonsense when Megumi and Tsumiki stand up to clear the table, and still hasn’t stopped even when you and him start loading the dishwasher together—Megumi chooses to seek reprieve in his room while he’s distracted. 
It isn’t until many hours later, when Megumi leaves the sanctuary of his room to swipe a quick snack from the kitchen, that he first hears Satoru speak about something other than his great, and very much sufficient, ‘capabilities’. Your voices are muffled, and Megumi has to focus to make out your words. His soft, inaudible padding down the illuminated hallways comes to a halt. As if that would make his ears function better. 
“Are you sure you want to do this, Satoru?”
The boy frowns. With such gentleness in your voice, it’s hard to identify the worry lingering beneath the surface. Megumi moves a bit closer. He stops one step shy of bumping into the wooden surface, and peeks through the groove. The door is ajar—it’s something that allows him to watch how your eyes follow Satoru’s large frame as he paces around the room. It’s strange. Seeing him so. . .frazzled. 
Satoru nods. “I can do this, I know I can,” he says, and quits his pacing to look at you. Megumi can’t see his face, but he can see yours. He might as well not have, though, as he can’t make out the emotion that fills your eyes. It’s not one he himself has in his repertoire, that he knows for sure. “He never asks me for anything, princess. I have to do this right.” 
Ah, this isn’t a conversation Megumi is meant to hear. He should probably seize his eavesdropping, he thinks, and winces a little when he properly analyses Satoru’s words. They’re truthful. Megumi doesn’t go to him when he needs something. His first thought is to go to you—and his second, Tsumiki. And if he’s being honest anyway, his third thought very likely isn’t Satoru, either; He’d try to solve it on his own if it came down to it. Megumi frowns again. He doesn’t like how that realisation makes him feel. 
A careful shuffle of footsteps breaks him free from his thoughts. Megumi looks up, and catches how you place a hand on Satoru’s cheek. “I’m sure you’ll do great, baby,” you mumble. There’s a small, soft smile on your lips, one that quickly makes way for the peck Satoru places upon them. 
“Thank you,” Satoru whispers. One of his hands reaches for yours, and Megumi suddenly feels as if he’s intruding on something when the man brings them up to his lips to press a tender kiss to them. Okay, no, definitely intruding—ew. 
The boy scrunches his nose up in disgust, and hurriedly darts back towards his room. Suddenly, he has lost his appetite for a late-evening snack. Megumi lets out a deep sigh once he’s all tucked into his sheets again. Perhaps giving Satoru a shot wouldn’t be that big of a problem. Just one, though.
. . .Yeah, just one should be enough.
It’s the final, conclusive thought Megumi has before dozing off to sleep. Blissfully unaware of the conversation you and Satoru share—now behind a very closed door.
You stifle a giggle. The disappearance of Megumi’s presence outside your bedroom was quick and rampant as soon as Satoru started to kiss your hands. Something the sorcerer did very deliberately. It’s as if the boy suddenly forgot about the very special, very effective pair of eyes his guardian possesses. And with a cursed energy output such as Megumi’s, it would be hard not to recognise his presence.
“You did that on purpose,” you comment. “How cruel of you, mochi.”
Satoru hums, and kisses the inside of your wrist. “Maybe, the little brat shouldn’t eavesdrop, then,” he defends himself. There isn’t an inkling of guilt to be seen on his pretty face.
. . .Though, both of you still take some extra care to shut the door next time.
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Megumi faithfully believes that, as of today, he has used-up all of his luck for the next five, no, ten years. It can only go downhill from here. For some inexplicable, mind-boggling reason—Satoru is actually pulling this off. That’s not all; he’s not merely winging it, he’s genuinely doing well. The boy can’t quite believe his eyes.
When he’d walked to the front with such an overexaggerated pep in his step, and an overabundance of bravado rolling off of him in waves—Megumi couldn’t help but watch on with a grim look, and a healthy dose of negative thoughts. It only amplified the nerves he’d collected so far during the walk to school. Somehow, watching Satoru give your flashcards a frantic do-over did very little to ease his bubbling anxiety.
There were many of them, flashcards that is. All possible questions his peers or his teacher could ever think of are written on those little pieces of cardboard. Courtesy of you, and your boyfriend. Megumi’s able to recall all those nights the two of you spend at the kitchen table—practising. He thought it was silly at the time.
But, as it turns out, it works.
Satoru is fun. To other people; Megumi doesn’t share the sentiment. Against all odds, he’s dynamic, and speaks with conviction. His flamboyant hand gestures have others think of them as amusing—captivating, even. Satoru is talking, and they’re all hanging onto his every word. No matter the fact that they’re all cleverly disguised lies.
Megumi can’t wrap his head around it. He doesn’t need to, however. If anything, he’s relieved that his peers think of his guardian as cool. While he certainly does not share the opinion, he isn’t too dense to admit that such a belief will save him a lot of embarrassment in the future. So, for this one, single day, he will let Satoru Gojo be cool. His snarky comments can resume tomorrow.
“Ah, it seems you have a deep love for your profession, Gojo-san,” his teacher says. She interrupts Satoru’s rant, and catches his attention as well as Megumi’s. Her voice is light and airy, and carries nothing that should cause him to fear the worst. Still, the boy feels on edge. “Though, I don’t remember the grade you are teaching. Could you tell us, again?”
Ah, and there it goes. The very first card in the elaborately built castle of lies.
Satoru pauses. A second passes, and then two, and three, and so on. He doesn’t speak for a good thirty, and Megumi can nearly see his mind leaf through his beloved flashcards—flashcards that are now neatly tucked into his pockets and entirely out of reach. That’s good. Because the absolute last thing Satoru should do now, is resort back to the flashcards.
Megumi shakes his head no as a signal.
“Ah,” Satoru says. “I teach kindergarten.”
Satoru didn’t catch the hint. Megumi wishes the ground would swallow him up. It would have been the correct answer—it is the answer that’s written on the flashcards—if Satoru hadn’t decided to go off route. Getting too caught up in the story he’d been free-writing, and allowing himself to get carried away by the looks of awe is resulting in his downfall, which, consecutively, will end with Megumi’s downfall, as well.
“Huh? But! What about the science experiment that exploded?” One of the children in his class whines. “I didn’t get to do that in kindergarten!”
“And the backflip you taught your students!”
“What about the first prize in the talent show? I thought your students were famous!”
The little bit of colour that normally resides in Satoru’s face steadily disappears, and he clenches his fist at his side. Ah, it’s great to know he’s at least aware of his mistake. That won’t help either of them at the moment, though. Megumi’s eyebrows furrow, and a feeling of distress overtakes him. It shows on his face. He doesn’t exactly go through the trouble of trying to hide it—there are bigger problems right now.
How utterly humiliating to be caught lying.
Satoru’s eyes find him. They’re just as troubled as his own. It worsens his anxiety.
“Oh, uhm, you see. . .” Satoru stammers, and Megumi’s stomach churns when the children around them continue to ask more and more questions. The wince his guardian lets out does little to soothe him. Megumi sighs, and looks at the ground. “Ah, I see. It seems you guys saw right through me.”
Megumi slides down in his seat. Maybe, if he tried hard enough, the ground would absorb him. It’s currently looking like a preferable fate.
“. . .I’m actually a detective.”
Oh, Jesus Christ.
“And. . .And for a detective, it’s very important to listen to what people say, because they could be lying!”
It’s a sad, pathetic excuse for a save. Megumi briefly ponders the distance between his seat and the door. Perhaps he could make a run for it. The subway station is very close by—getting on and travelling to an entirely new city to start a new life doesn’t seem like such a bad option. He sighs. No, that’s not possible. You and Tsumiki would be very worried. What else is there to do, though?
“You all picked up on my lie, which tells me every single one of you could make a great detective in the future.”
Megumi thinks Satoru might have some underlying mental problems. Though, they can’t possibly be as severe as the problems his classmates have—for they all believe the nonsense he’s giving them. Bright eyes, filled with hope and admiration, stare up at the man at the front of the class; impressed hums and entertained smiles get passed between the parents standing at the edge of the room. And Satoru, well, he seems entirely too proud of the fact that he made a bunch of children think they’re destined for a career in law enforcement. But, be that as it may, it works.
The children stir up unrest—the good kind this time, the kind that vocalises their excitement—and all rush to ask the detective a question. But, before they can even open their mouths, Satoru claps his hands together. It seems he has decided enough is enough, and it’s one of those very rare moments where Megumi agrees with him. The boy needs this to be over already.
“Alright, that’s it for today,” Satoru says, and feigns disappointment. He pretends to be affected by the sad groans of the children—keyword being pretend, as to the trained eye it’s quite clear that he wishes to leave. “I’m not allowed to tell you more.”
Ah, see, now that’s a good card.
“Wait, but, what about. . .”
“Ah, sorry, that’s confidential. Detective stuff, y’know?”
Confidential. Megumi thinks that might just be his new favourite word. The lingering feeling of anxiety slowly starts to subside with every step Satoru takes towards the back of the room—to the back, and away from the spotlight. His eyes follow the man’s large frame, but Satoru never chooses to look at him in return. His line of sight is firmly focused on the floor. It confuses Megumi, but he chalks it up to a mere whim.
All things considered (and minus the near cardiac arrest he went through), today went pretty well, after all. Much to his surprise.
Perhaps Megumi doesn’t hate Career Day. A strong dislike is more like it.
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Megumi can’t count the times he wished for Satoru to be quiet. The exact number is much like the digits of Pi—huge, and absolutely never-ending. He can, however, count the times he didn’t wish for him to be quiet. As of today, that stands at a very solid one.
The birds around them chirp, and the bustle of other people is heard all around them—but they’re the only sounds gracing his ears. There is none of Satoru’s incessant chatter, nor is there even a glimmer of gloating about a job well-done. It’s eerily silent, and Megumi isn’t sure what to make of it. This isn’t quite how he imagined the walk home to go. Far from it, if he’s being honest.
“What’s up with you?”
It’s possibly the first time Megumi decides to break the silence, ever. The boy frowns, and fiddles with the straps of his backpack. There isn’t a middle-ground with Satoru, he has found out. Either he speaks entirely too much, or unnervingly little. There’s a tiny pebble in his path, and Megumi feels the need to kick it forward—so he does.
“I kind of messed up there, huh?”
The kick doesn’t have nearly enough force to it. Megumi watches as the little rock skips forward. Once, twice, and then it comes to a standstill again. “Yeah, kind of,” he agrees.
“I’m sorry,” Satoru rushes out. It’s said so fast, as if it physically pains him to say it. Perhaps it does. It’s sincere, however. There isn’t even a hint of a joke to be found. Something must be bothering him. “It didn’t go how I wanted it to go, and I don’t know why I went astray, and forgot about the cards. It—well, it was pretty stupid.”
Megumi doesn’t exactly feel the need to deny it.
“So, I get it, okay?” He continues, seeing the boy’s silence as an empty space for more conversation—more rambling. Since that’s what it is; rambles, plain and simple. Megumi doesn’t see the need for such a fuss. “I shouldn’t have strayed from the plan, and. . .”
“It’s fine.”
Satoru blinks at him. “What?”
“I said it’s fine,” Megumi repeats. Because it really is fine. Admittedly, it wasn’t smart of Satoru to all but discard your carefully planned presentation, but it ended well enough regardless. No harm, no foul. “Thank you for coming.”
That small, short sentence is enough to stop Satoru in his tracks. Megumi doesn’t, however. The man is very tall, he’s sure to catch up in a jiffy; he doesn’t need him to wait. There’s another small silence, though this one feels a lot more comfortable than the last. Satoru takes his time to process, and Megumi lets him.
“W—What?” The sorcerer stammers in shock. There is no need for Megumi to turn around and see—he can hear the smile curling onto his lips. “Did you just. . .”
“I won’t say it again,” Megumi grumbles definitively, and picks up his pace. The very tips of his ears heat up, and the apples of his cheeks turn red. The feeling of embarrassment. This wasn’t exactly how he’d envisioned it to appear when the day started.
Satoru attempts to run after him, to catch up. “Megumi!” He calls out, the very prominent, very familiar whiney lilt now back in his voice. Megumi didn’t miss it. “Wait for me, I didn’t hear you! Could you repeat that?”
“Yes, you did!” Megumi says, and throws him an annoyed glance from over his shoulder. He tightens his hold on the straps of his backpack. “Stop lying.”
“Nuh uh!”
“What are you? Six?”
Satoru’s toothy grin is infuriating. But—it’s familiar. And Megumi discovers he’s much more at ease when that grin is on display, than when the man in question is moping around. It’s a lot less alarming.
“And a half,” Satoru adds.
The scowl that’s on Megumi’s face appears almost instantly when he goes to ruffle his hair. For a man whose technique largely surrounds being untouchable, he has a surprising lack of awareness concerning this thing called personal space.
“Ugh,” Megumi groans, and pushes him off. It doesn’t work. Satoru gravitates towards him again—almost as if he’s a magnet. He doesn’t attempt to move a second time. In moments like these, it’s best to let Satoru get it all out of his system. “You’re so stupid.”
It’s true. He does think Satoru is stupid, but he can’t deny it—Satoru tried his very best today, and in the days prior. Which makes him one of the very small, barely existent group of people who have done so for him.
It seems one shot was enough, after all.
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taegularities · 3 months
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entertainer (teaser) | jjk (m)
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Summary: Growing singer Jeon Jungkook is as charismatic as he is self-absored – that is, until he meets you. Caught in a web of secrets, he finds a riddle in you he urges to solve; even ready to turn the spotlight towards you until nothing remains… but regret.
➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: strangers to lovers (or something); angst, bits of fluff, smut ➳ warnings: do not fall for this jk i repeat do not f– 🚨 he's kinda hot though; (not so) silent yearning, flirting, sexual tension, he is so attracted to her :'), mystery, oc is a big question mark, full jk pov!, dark past(s), crying, fear, confrontation and fighting, cocky kook, secrets and revelations, explicit sexual content (kissing, fingering, teasing, drunk shenanigans, sooo much lust, big dick jk, etc.), more warnings on drop day once the fic is finished!! not much for the teaser itself, though <3 ➳ wc: 1.8k :') (around 20k for the full thing) ➳ a/n: scratches head. this has been a long time coming and i'm beyond curious how y'all will like it :') very new and experimental, so let's see how it goes!! as always, drop a message to lmk what you think of this lil glimpse, i'll be waiting with dangling feet hehe!! <3
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➳ give the Entertainer playlist a first listen! 🖤   
TAGLIST | MASTERLIST | WIPs 
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“Why are you the textbook definition of a fuckboy, honestly.”
“Fuckbo—”
“Nevermind.”
If he wasn’t well acquainted with this little game, he would’ve missed your subtle, nearly veiled intent to tease. But he’s done that a million times before — hence, catches the faint twitch of your gorgeous lips immediately.
You’re enjoying this. So he should join… right?
Yet.
You’re not being entirely insincere. In fact, he hates how he picks up on the note of truth in your velvety voice.
Trimmed nails scratch the back of his head, and he barely notices once the two of you halt in front of another piece of work. Distracted, he doesn’t bear the art any mind, instead asking, “You really think of me like that?”
You shrug a shoulder. Nonchalance a constant feature, but so natural, even somewhat gentle, that he can’t help but feel drawn to you. “A little.”
“Well, shit.”
“Don’t overthink it. Enjoy the art.”
“Sure.”
Reluctantly, he glances to the canvas. It’s a mess of hues; a random arrangement of spontaneous emotions. Resembles the masterpieces he used to create in Microsoft Paint, back when his legs would still dangle off the chair.
“So,” he starts, nodding towards the painting, “what do you see in this?”
You hesitate. Or maybe it’s not hesitation — more like… a thinking pause. Sometimes, when Jungkook notices a whirring mind, he sees a steaming brain through a skull. Working at full blast.
But somehow, he only recognises a tranquil ocean as he observes you gather your thoughts. Everything about you is tender, but wrapped in dark mystery.
How much mental training does it require to become this inscrutable?
When you finally speak, you’re saying similarly odd things.
“I see… colours.” Right. Stating the obvious. Jungkook chuckles, delivering a head tilt. “And am wondering how the painter got to create this at all. I mean, this looks so meaningless at first, doesn’t it?”
“But it’s not, yeah?”
“We’re fast to think that. Most of the time, there must be a trigger, or a thought on something, no matter how small. Something might have been bothering him. This is—” A hand gestures towards the painting. “Such a chaotic mind.”
Interesting…
“Is this what you usually think about all day?” Jungkook wonders.
You scoff. “I’m just a person, too. I think about a lot of random things.”
“Ahhh. Like what?”
“Like… seeing all the green in this exhibition made me realise how that colour makes me cry.”
Jungkook takes a haphazard look around. Now that you say it — there’s no hint of a nature theme, but the abundance of green is striking. It’s as calm as you. No wonder you’d immerse yourself in a showcase such as this.
You continue, as if tracing and reading his mind like an open novel, “It’s soothing, right? And unique. These earthly things sometimes make me feel like not all of us are deserving of seeing such beauty. Like it should be reserved for those who've earned it.”
Earned it? How? 
Jungkook can’t see your thoughts as clearly as you’re apparently capable of doing, but he has an inkling of what you might mean. Truly dazzling souls merit the stunning bloom of the world, right?
And then…
If that’s what it is.
He wonders — do you think he deserves to see the colour green? Or is it already over if he has to ask? Perhaps, should he be perceiving it as grey right now? He doesn’t know.
He doesn’t know how you think of him — doesn’t know anything about you at all. You’re a tough nut to crack. 
“Hmm… that’s a way to think about it,” he says.
“Only because it’s the same for people. And I’ve had this thought about humans a lot… I…” You hesitate, blink, and then grant him your gaze. “I knew someone who was the colour green. Not everyone deserved them, either.”
Someone…
Poetic minds carry a certain pain in their eyes.
He’s been seeing it in yours. He just doesn’t know how to handle it. So he doesn’t. Yet.
Instead, he asks, “What else are you thinking about?”
“Uhmmm,” you voice, straightening your back a little, as if waking up from a dream — a nightmare? “I’ve been thinking about trying that, too. Painting, I mean. It doesn’t have to mean anything or be good. Just a great way to capture something that resonates with what I feel.”
Every word you’ve uttered today was otherworldly. You didn’t talk like this when you were at the meeting, or in his office. Your soul is somewhat free-floating here, and he doesn’t understand why.
And it’s a behaviour he usually strays away from. The vulnerable ones can be dangerous.
But somehow… you’re too strong of a magnet.
One who shrugs all the puzzles away — and he sighs in despair. Maybe it’s not time to find out what you feel just yet. What resonates with you — even though he’s dying to hear it.
He inquires, “Are you always this much of an open book?”
“No. Not at all.” Of course not. Rhetoric question — he knows this much. “But I like thinking out loud sometimes.”
“I’m glad to be a sounding board then.”
“Hah. Well, I was also thinking how I appreciate that I met you here.” Pause. Oh? What a surprise. Strokes his ego, though. And then, out of the blue again, “You wanna go to the museum restaurant?”
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Jungkook has barely inhaled half of the exhibition yet. But just for today, he couldn’t care less.
Perhaps this is enough for now, visiting the overpriced restaurant, watching you from afar as you inspect your nails calmly. You’re not busy on your phone like the rest of the crowd — entertained by the same media that he’s part of.
Maybe he can be a bigger part of their lives one day — be the one flitting over their screens, the one they adore. The one they worship.
But you don’t seem to indulge in those mind-numbing devices for now. You might be an addition to his team, but privately, you float in your own world. Distracted by the thoughts you won’t disclose.
Your hands retreat, arms crossing on the table and lips curling into a smile once he strolls back to you. Satisfied, he informs you, “One cake to go with the coffee. As the lady suggested.”
“Oh. One?” you ask, “Don’t you want one?”
���I do.”
“So…” You stall, and he waits until it clicks, your head tilting in understanding. “Are we sharing?”
Jungkook lifts a thumb, pointing over his shoulder, back to the register, “Those chocolate cakes are sweet as hell. I’ve got a sweet tooth, but believe that it’ll be enough for us two.”
You laugh — a candied, disarming chuckle before you breathe an, “Alright.”
Jungkook doesn’t know you well enough to feel any skip of his heart; yet, you stir something else in his mind. While he does avoid them, it’s still always people like you who intrigue him the most — those who veil themselves in a coat of secrets.
He sighs.
“That was fast,” you note, eyes at a point behind him.
And he understands when the waitress arrives a couple moments later, serving two perfectly prepared cappuccinos and a mouth-watering chocolate fudge piece.
You thank her with a gentle smile, and tuck a hair behind your ear, fingertips grazing your dangling silver earring.
And he watches.
Watches as you nod towards him, urging him, “Start then.”
Observes your smile as he signals you to start instead. And he gazes at you as your delicate digits reach for the fork, tearing off a piece, wrapping your lips around the utensil.
And then… oh God.
He feels his guts twist; hears all background noise fade; blood rushing away from his head.
All the way through his body as you slowly relish the sweetness and then drag the wet tip of your tongue over the fork. Licking away the leftover chocolate.
Jungkook swears it happens in slow motion. And witnessing your elegance in snail’s pace… makes him sick.
When your eyelashes flutter, gape lifting to meet his, the sound around him comes alive again — as does he. He averts his stare from your mouth, covered in the same colour as the coffee, but you notice.
You catch him looking. And it makes you… smile? Shit.
But you don’t boast your effect; only digress as you say, “Well… tastes as fancy as it looks. Try.”
You’re as relaxed with him as you can be. But you always are; with everyone. He craves that bit that’s only reserved for him — and maybe he’s too zealous too fast. He hasn’t known you for long.
Making you smile must be an achievement, though, right? If only… you didn’t think of him like…
He nods, and then leans over the table ever-so-slightly. His knees brush against yours, a soft but deliberate move. He places an elbow on the table, grasping the fork, close to you. If he lifted his hand, he could touch your cheek.
He wishes he could.
His eyes meet yours through his bangs, the cake’s taste irrelevant to your presence. And when his ego doesn’t let him live, he finally asks, almost as if insulted, “Do you actually perceive me as a fuckboy?”
The question catches you off guard. You hesitate, furrowing your eyebrows, and then giggle before questioning back, “Jungkook… that’s bothering you this much? Mmmh. How would you like to be perceived?”
“Just. As a decent guy who wants to get to know you. And I know you know.” You blink, but he doesn’t buy it. So he elaborates, “I’ve been trying to make clear that I find you interesting. And somewhat attractive.”
People usually display a flicker of glimmer in their eyes upon hearing such praise. But you don’t budge; in fact, your eyes remain the same, if not a little darker. Why?
Yet, you cock an eyebrow, sporting a teasing, playful tone, “Somewhat, hm?”
He shakes his head, clicks his tongue.
“You’re pretty and I think you know,” he blurts, “and I don’t want to screw up right away.”
Is it the habit of never failing; getting what he wants? The urge to solve an enigma? The chance to dive into you until you’re bared to him? Why are you so interesting to him?
You’re just a person.
Maybe it’s just the unsettling need to discover what you’re hiding — it won’t let him rest. There’s something about you that screams to him to unravel. 
He doesn’t know what it is. Doesn’t know if you’re even from the same world as him — even though you seem to have crossed his realm before.
No matter what it is; Jungkook only understands for now that he wants to take off your layers.
Wants you to be the colour green for him. 
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wrote most of it now and while sick, so it might change hehe! but i hope it's okay so far, and it shall only get better!! i'm so so excited for this, like i've been working on it and putting thought into it since october, so i hope it's worth the wait <3
as always, send your thoughts, questions, complaints lol lemme know what you think or i might perish sniff. super curious to know!! also, here's the taglistttt 🤍 love and appreciate you all <3
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dimicul · 2 months
Text
wine red
simon riley x chubby!female reader
just something quick i wrote after i saw this ghost headcanon on tt :,)
“Nothin’, just don’t like how my stomach sticks out.”
Simon pauses, his expression neutral. He glances towards you, drinking in the sight of your features drawing into a small frown as you studied your reflection, hands supporting the small pudge around your belly. He notes how bloody beautiful you look in red, but looks back to his own shoes, urging back a grunt of frustration.
You never complained about your belly.
He’s been around you long enough to be aware of your insecurities, watching you pad towards the bathroom mirror and prod at your pimples, grumbling at the bump on your nose bridge, sometimes sat beside him in bed with a sparkly face mask on - it was second nature to know you, and although it pissed him off to no end, he also understood insecurities were normal.
But this - this was different. You embraced your body, curves, blemishes and all, the crooks and crevices denting your flesh - you didn’t care for the sly looks or judgemental comments, you wore whatever the hell you wanted. And if anyone had a problem, Simon would have fixed it in a heartbeat. This wasn’t your insecurity, this wasn’t a flaw, it was a part of you you loved.
Simon couldn’t handle your expression.
A sigh, a clacking of heels - you had torn your gaze away from the mirror, face scrunched up into one of those mopey frowns Simon adored, and grabbed the leather coat from the rack. It’s almost suffocating, the silence, and he does realise he needs to say something, but talking wasn’t always his strong suit. So his jaw clicks into place, shoulders broad and unmoving, gloved hands resting on his thighs.
Suddenly Simon is sixteen again and sat in front of his headteacher.
He runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek, whiskey irises boring into the back of your head before you turn with a half assed smile. Ha. He’s glad he can understand your little moods now, or else this night would’ve turned for the worse.
“Come.” The baritone of his voice draws you out of your darting thoughts. You sigh, stepping forward.
You’re not prepared for when his large hands latch onto your hips gently, pushing you forward so his head could rest on your stomach.
“Si-”
And again. You’re doing things you’ve never done before - you always let him rest on your stomach, it was never something you panicked about. A beat passes and your boyfriend lifts his head, penetrating eyes contrasting starkly against the red of your dress.
“What’s up with you?”
You purse your lips, mulling over his tone. “Nothing, just - this dress wasn’t always so… fitting.”
Simon hums roughly, and you inhale sharply at his hands stroking against your hip tenderly.
“Look’s fine to me.”
Neither of you say anything. Not a lot of words needed to be said around him, but then again, not a lot of men were like Simon. Your eyes soften, and you let your palm rest on the back of his neck, your touch making him hum again, the vibrations against your belly causing you to shudder.
“Ev’ry big boy needs his big girl.”
You laugh sweetly, and finally, he exhales quietly, welcoming the feel of your nails against his neck. He supposed it didn’t matter what the hell you thought about yourself.
Because he’d always want you.
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puddingyun · 2 months
Text
tone . ݁₊ ⊹ k.hj
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hongjoong x reader
18+ mdni
: 985 words, smut, auralism/voice kink, fingering, some dirty talk :
day 5 of fff24 (catching up since i got sick (╥ᆺ╥;)) ♡
"I'm sorry I'm so late, baby."
Hongjoong's voice pulled you out of the light sleep you'd fallen into. A smile played on your lips as you felt your boyfriend crawl into bed behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you close. 
"I got so caught up I didn't realise what time it was," he whispered. He didn't sound sleepy at all, even though when you opened your eyes to squint at your phone the screen displayed a staggering 3:00 AM. You hummed softly as one of Hongjoong's hands slid up your pyjama top to rest against your stomach. "I'm sorry for waking you up."
"It's okay. Your feet are cold," you mumbled, which made Hongjoong giggle behind you. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of your neck and tangled his feet even more with yours, pulling you both flush together. "Keep talking, Joongie."
"Okay," Hongjoong murmured, his fingers moving back and forth against your skin. "I missed you all day. Missed hearing you talk, and your footsteps around the apartment. I kept wondering what you were up to. What did you get up to, hon?"
Your mind was so fuzzy from listening to Hongjoong talk that you almost forgot to reply. 
"Uhm," you stalled, pressing your thighs together as you tried to remember what you did while Hongjoong was out. "I finished some work in the morning after you left and in the afternoon I watched a movie... Some supernatural thing, like a rip-off of The Ring."
"Just a typical day, huh?" Hongjoong hummed, stretching his fingers out to let his pinky rest beneath the waistband of your panties. When you mumbled out a soft 'uh-huh', Hongjoong exhaled quietly, amused by your sleepy voice. You felt butterflies fill your stomach at the sound of it. "Mine was the same, just finishing things up and brainstorming new- hey, baby, why're you squirming so much?"
"Nothing," you huffed softly, though you could feel your cheeks heating up when he called you out. Hongjoong grunted, a small sound that told you he didn't really believe your reply, and then sighed so that his breath fanned out over the back of your neck. "Just finish telling me about your day?"
"Okay, well... I've been picking up the guitar more often. Maybe tomorrow I'll show you the songs I've learned," he rambled on, not pausing to mention the way you were almost constantly shifting your thighs, seeking friction to accompany the warmth growing between your legs at the sound of Hongjoong's voice. "...I was going to get an energy drink but one of the staff members kept going on about how they aren't good for you so I ended up getting a coffee instead. But then later on I saw Wooyoungie with one and nobody was telling him to be careful so I don't know what that was about."
You made a non-committal sound in response, trying to pretend like you were listening when in reality Hongjoong's words were all getting muddled in your head, blurred around the edges and scratching an itch you hadn't noticed was there.
"Baby?" Hongjoong's voice called softly. 
"Hm?" you replied, pouting at his voice coming to a stop even if it was just to call you a petname. 
"Are you getting off on this?" he asked, and this time you could hear a smirk in his voice. You stuttered, trying to come up with a believable answer, but Hongjoong cut you off with a giggle. "It's okay. You're cute. Want me to finish telling you about my day?"
You paused, weighing up your embarrassment against your desire to deal with the sudden wave of arousal so you could get back to sleep. Eventually, the latter won out, and you relaxed in Hongjoong's hold again. 
"Yes please," you murmured, feeling like you were asking for a bedtime story. Hongjoong's lips pressed against your shoulder in a feverish kiss before he resumed his earlier ramblings.
This time, as he spoke, his hand slowly moved beneath your panties. When his fingers came into contact with the wetness on your lips his breath hitched momentarily, then his fingers began rubbing circles against your clit with just enough pressure to make your breathing uneven. 
"And then we had a meeting to try on some new stage outfits, they got us fitted and everything... The colours seemed sorta off to me but they said that under the stage lights and all of that it'd look fine," he mumbled, his voice slowly becoming rougher around the edges as your arousal became more evident. Your shaky breaths turned into hushed moans, skin tingling everywhere that Hongjoong touched and the pool of arousal in your stomach getting dangerously close to spilling over. 
You felt two of his fingers press into you, and as he bent them inside of you his palm rubbed against your clit, making you groan into your pillow. A soft nip to your shoulder made you gasp, Hongjoong's teeth digging into your skin hard enough to leave a mark. 
"You're so fucking cute. I come home and don't even say anything dirty to you and here you are, making a mess on my fingers," he mumbled against your skin, his fingers picking up their pace. "All I have to do is talk to you about my day and you're rubbing your thighs together trying to get off. You're so fucking precious."
The way the curse word rolled off of his tongue was enough to push you over the edge, clenching around his fingers as you came hard. Behind you Hongjoong trailed a line of kisses along your skin, lips curved into a smile the whole time. 
Once your breathing had slowed back down Hongjoong gave your waist a tight squeeze.
"Let me get you some water baby," he whispered, kissing your temple as he got up. "Then I'll let you get back to sleep." 
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