#Four Leaves Bakery | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starkwlkr · 11 months

Text

annoying little brothers | f1

female driver x f1 drivers (platonic) (same age as daniel so 33)

part 2 part 3

Y/N L/N BEING THE FUNNIEST DRIVER ON THE GRID

The video starts of with a press conference from the United States Grand Prix. Y/n was seated with Charles, Pierre, Daniel and Sebastian her being in the middle of all the men who she considered her brothers.

She was listening to all the questions the men were receiving from how they thought they were going to do, how’s the team doing, etc. But when a reported finally asked her a question, she completely blanked.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about my son. We were supposed to get breakfast together and he hasn’t texted me back. I haven’t seen Lando all day.” Y/‘ said making the drivers and reporters laugh.

“When did you adopt Lando? I wasn’t aware.” Daniel played along.

“2019. He was actually lost when I met him. It was during the Australian Grand Prix, his first f1 race. I found him and we did the Melbourne walk together and I’ve just kind of adopted ever since. So if any of you bully my son, I’m coming after you.” Y/n explained.

“He’s probably texting you right now saying ‘stop embarrassing me, mom!’” Sebastian went on.

“Wait, he’s over there!” Pierre spotted the Brit rushing towards their direction.

“He’s alive!” Charles cheered.

Finally, Lando arrived to their interview area with a box from a a bakery in his hand. “Sorry, I have to drop this off. We’ll get breakfast tomorrow. I got you pastries.” Lando gave Y/n the box and a hug then he was off since he was late for his interview.

“You’ve raised your son well.” The reporter joked.

“That was all me, I needed no help.”

The next clip was a fan video from 2021. Y/n had just finished her date with a guy and now she was signing autographs and taking photos with a group of girls. The girls had just finished their meals at a restaurant when they spotted the f1 driver leaving with a guy. The politely asked for a photo, which y/n was more than glad to take. Her date stepped aside to give them a moment.

“Sorry to interrupt your date.” A girl apologized for her and all her friends.

“Nothing to be sorry about, honey. I’m actually nervous because I don’t know how the date went. I’m horrible at first dates so this is kinda making me less stressed.” Y/n admitted. The girls laughed as y/n signed a girls phone case.

“Has he met Lando?” Another girl asked knowing how close y/n and lando are.

“Not yet. I’m afraid that Lando might scare him off. Everyone on the grid might, especially seb. He will definitely give him one of those ‘treat her right or I will run you over’ speeches.” Y/n signed another phone case.

“Does he knows you’re famous?”

“Oh god, no! I told him I was unemployed and that a sugar daddy was giving me money. I’m surprised he still agreed to come on this date with me.” Y/n chuckled.

Months later, the guy ended up being y/n’s boyfriend. He even attended the British Grand Prix where he finally met Lando, who was actually the one to tell him to treat y/n right or he would run him over.

The next clip started off with the intro to grill the grid. The challenge was to guess the driver’s numbers, something that y/n was semi confident about.

“So we start off with my man, Danny, number three.” She wrote down on her clipboard. “Four, my son, Lando. Also ever since I met Lando I’ve been seeing the number four quite often. It’s scary actually. Can’t decide if Lando put a curse on me or not.”

“Would he do that?”

“He shouldn’t,” y/n raised her voice slightly. “Anyways, next is … oh! Seb! I don’t know why I couldn’t think of him right away. Then we have latifi at number six then kimi at seven.” She continued writing down the names.

“Nine ….Mazepin.” She fought the urge to roll her eyes since her and the driver were never on good terms.

“Ten, my favorite frenchie well one of, we treat everyone nice here, gasly.” Y/n winked at the camera. “Eleven, the mexican minister of defense, Perez. And then we have me! Thirteen!”

“Do you think Lando got your number right?”

“I don’t doubt him ever.”

“Thirteen, my mother! Everyone better get that right.” Lando pointed at the camera menacingly.

“Fourteen, Alonzo. Sixteen, Leclerc Charles. Eighteen, stroll and twenty two!” Y/n sang the number in the tune of taylor swift’s song. “Yuki! Thirty one, Esteban, my other frenchie. Thirty three, max does he have a middle name verstappen.”

“Have you noticed that you haven’t gotten any wrong yet?”

“I’m just the best, that’s why.” Y/n laughed. “Forty four, the seven time world champion, sir lewis hamilton. Fourty seven, mick mick mick. I love to say his name.”

Y/n had completely forgotten she had to be writing the names down. She was having too much fun.

“Fifty five, carlos smooth operator sainz jr. sixty three, the man with two first names, russell george.” Y/n said as she looked down at the numbers on the paper.

“Do you know his middle name?”

Y/n gasped. “Is it another first name?”

“I believe it’s William.”

“Three names!? It sounds so british.” Y/n chuckled. “Um, seventy seven valtteri, right?” Y/n saw the interviewer nod. “I was getting worried my streak would be broken. And ninety nine, antonio!”

“You got all of them!” Everyone in the room cheered.

“Did anyone else get them all?” Y/n asked.

“Daniel did.”

“Of course. He’s good with numbers.”

The next clip was from the same grill the grid video but it was a blooper. Lando had arrived right as y/n finished filming and handed her a water bottle.

“Did you get my number?” Lando asked curiously.

“Yeah, ninety five, right? Cause you’re a McQueen fan.” Y/n teased as she grabbed the bottle from lando’s hand.

“Yeah, you remembered!” Lando played along “how did she really do?” He asked.

“She got them all right.”

“Really? I’ve got a smart mother!” Lando high fived the woman.

“It’s because I’ve got a photographic memory.” Y/n nodded with the most serious face on.

“Do you really?” Lando asked. He was surprised to hear that.

“No, I just love to lie.”

The next clip started with Daniel and Lando standing next to boards with their 2022 rankings. As predicted, Daniel and Lando’s part of the interview was mostly filled with them drawing over each other’s pictures.

Daniel them knocked over Lando’s rankings to the ground. “That’s how I feel.”

“That was the worst timing ever. Y/n is walking this way.” Lando told Daniel, who immediately picked up the board.

“Are those your rankings?” Y/n asked as she approached the duo. She then noticed that the setup and quickly apologized to the camera man. “Sorry, I’m just curious now.”

“Are you proud of me?” Lando asked, standing next to her and throwing his arm over her shoulder.

“When am I not? Wait, except that time you pushed me into my birthday cake.” Y/n pinched his side. “Can I see the pen?” She asked the guys, Lando gave her his.

“She’s adding to our masterpieces. This piece will be worth millions years from now.” Daniel said.

Y/n then scribbled little stars around Lando’s head and then signed it at the top. “Actually you both look great in your pictures. Did they use photoshop?”

“Excuse me, this is all natural.”

“Y/n! Hi, hello. What’s going on here?” Martin brundle asked the woman as she walked with her mom and pr manager, Lucy.

“Martin! It’s been a while, nothing much. How are you?” Y/n hugged the former racing driver. “This is my mom, she’s been wanting to meet you.”

“Mrs. l/n, hello. Welcome, how are you?” Martin greeted the older woman.

“Great. I’m here supporting my girl. It’s been a wonderful weekend.” Y/n’s mom smiled.

“Are you aware that you have a grandson that drives for McLaren?” Martin asked making all three ladies laugh.

“Yes, Lando is a very lovely young man.”

“How does it feel to have a daughter and grandson in f1?” Martin asked in a serious tone.

“Amazing. I’m super proud of both of them.”

“Thank you ladies for your time. Have a wonderful day.” Martin smiled at them, but before he could leave, y/n gave him a hug goodbye.

“Take care, Martin!” Y/n waved to the man and left with her mom and Lucy.

“She wins everything. Give her all the trophies. Everything is hers.” Martin said to the camera.

The final clip was consisted of y/n after a race getting interviewed.

“Do you often see your father?” Someone asked from the back.

“No, actually we’re just good friends.”

“What’s your opinion on the president of the United States?” Asked the same person.

“I don’t think about him.”

“What’s going on between max verstappen and lewis hamilton?”

“I don’t know, I just work here.”

3K notes · View notes

pirateprincessblog · 6 months

Text

player 9

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: finally reuniting with your family after years of working abroad, your six year old nephew doesn't leave your side. he wants you to take him to school, he wants to do his homework with you, he wants to sit on your lap during meals, and he wants you to watch his football practice. how convenient that you're almost always alone on that stadium, and that his coach is just the most gorgeous man you've ever seen in your life. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jeong yunho x reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: footballplayer!yunho, coach!yunho, whippedforhernephew'scoach!reader 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: gagging, semi-public sex, oral (m!receiving), creampie, unprotected sex

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧��𝐬: swearing 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: is it soccer or football? football or rugby? either way, i'd let yunho demolish me in the locker room (or in the middle of the football field). :)

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

"it's called soccer, dumbass."

"no, it's called football, dumbass."

"you don't know what you're talking about." your brother rolls his eyes, then stuffs his mouth with the hotdog you had made for game night.

"there's a ball, and you kick it with your foot. what part of that seems to be the issue?"

"football is an entirely different sport-"

"oh give me a break-"

"god, it's like you both are sixteen again. is that just a natural thing? no matter how old you get you'll bicker like this all your life?" your mother complains, sipping her cucumber water and judging the calories on the table with a single eyebrow raise.

your brother's son, your nephew, laughs in your lap. you laugh with him, seeing the ketchup mess on his face and his sticky little fingers.

"and what are you laughing at, you little rascal? come here!"

the young man grabs the child from your lap, tickling the life out of him as a punishment for mocking his father. he playfully reaches towards you for help, and you do, tickling your own brother to make him stop.

"oh god, my white couch!"

"stop that, our daughter came back after many years apart and you care about the couch?" your father scolds his wife.

"it's not like that-"

"hush! is it 2:1? is it?! yes it is!" he jumps, spilling the beer all over the just mentioned couch.

"oh, heavens." her voice is light, and she looks like she is about to faint.

the four of you snicker, and silently cheer with another hot dog.

you forgot just how boring your town is. you do nothing but lay in your bed watching tv shows, walk to the local bakery, and drive your nephew to school. he is almost glued to you twenty four hours a day, and you don't mind. he is the squishiest thing ever, always listens to you, and helps you piss off your brother.

he doesn't have much of a mother figure in his life. your brother works a lot, and your parents are raising him. his mother died during birth, and even though they begged to save her and not the child, it was too late. your brother didn't want the baby at first. pushed it away, yelled at it, saying it took away his wife and his will to live. then, he started therapy. he started getting better, and started spending time with his child. your nephew has all the love he could possibly get, but your arrival changed him. he has become very attached to you; sneaking out of his room in the middle of the night just to sleep in your bed, making his kindergarten teacher call you mid playing just to tell you that he built a rocket out of clay, to only eating when he sits on your lap and you feed him.

much like this morning.

"auntie?" he mumbles between the waffle bites.

"yes, pumpkin?"

"will you watch me play soccer today?"

"it's football!" your brother calls from the living room. "you broke my kid."

"i didn't break him, i just passed him some of my IQ."

the man sticks his tongue out towards you, making his son giggle.

"don't you want grandpa to take you?" your father makes a disappointed face, teasing his grandchild.

"i want auntie to take me! and then you can meet my coach! and then you can see how cool our new jerseys are! we are only allowed to wear them at the stadium and not take them home because they are new. i really wanted to show it to you but coach wouldn't let me. he says i'd make it rip it as soon as i enter the house!"

"oh, how dare he!" you say, noticing your father's wink as a sign to support him.

"and sometimes he yells at me! but grandpa told me that he just means well, and that he only wants to teach me so i can be a great player like him! did you know that he is going to play the- the- oh no, what's it called again, grandpa?"

"the derby?"

"yes! that! he is going to play in a few weeks! he is so cool!"

he may not be able to feed himself, but instead of that, he can talk. all day long. and just sometimes, your ears become irritated. so you agree to drive him. you blast the music, muting his babbling from the back as he sits in his car seat. can anyone blame you? it's a two hour drive. you don't have the energy for it today.

you finally arrive, and after making sure you've locked your car and rolled the windows up, you finally let him lead you inside. you can barely keep up with him, he is too excited to see his friends. you see other women standing near the group of children, and you let go of your nephew's hand so you can greet them. after all, you'll be coming here quite often it seems.

"hi, just wanted to introduce myself."

"oh, the new stepmom?"

"what? no- i- what?" you're just as confused as them, and you look over to your nephew.

"oh, i'm so sorry! he keeps talking about his new mom and we just thought-"

his new mom? your confusion disappears when you see the little boy pointing his finger towards you, excitedly showing you off to his friends.

"no, no. i'm his aunt." you inform them.

before they get to say anything, the doors on the side of the stadium open, revealing a tall male wearing a jersey. you hear whispering behind you, maybe even a particularly long exhale, and you have to say that you agree with them.

the coach is stunning. he is drop dead gorgeous, and the more you look, the more self conscious you feel about your lazily picked outfit today. he is so tall and lean, his waist probably smaller than yours. his lips are plump and a pretty pink colour, and his hair a dirty blonde, almost a mullet. no wonder all the moms were dipped in makeup and dresses. you wore your brother's hoodie with his favorite football team logo on it, short leggings and zero makeup.

"hi, ladies." he greets, smiling at the group. he surely knows his impact.

his gaze stops on you, catching you red handed. you must've been staring at him weirdly, because he smiles wider your way, then finally lets the kids inside to change and get ready for the practice. all except...

"coach jeong! can my mom please come and watch me?"

"mom?" the coach is caught off guard, glancing your way.

"oh, no no, honey-" you try explaining. that man needs to know you're single.

"please?" the boy puts his palms together, and does his best puppy eyes to convince the man in front of him to let you in.

"well i- i guess. come in then." he holds the door open for you.

other women do not seem to take interest in going in and watching their children. instead, they greet the coach, then head over to the nearby café. your nephew tugs at your hand, smile so wide his eyes turn into half moons and he doesn't even see you.

"you little rascal." you scold him, ruffling his hair.

he runs off to the locker room, and you watch him drag the backpack that is almost bigger than him across the floor.

"well, this is an odd surprise. i didn't know he had a mother. not to be rude, of course."

"oh, i am not. i am his aunt." you finally explain.

"ah, so that's the case. i was wondering. you look so young."

he smells of freshly cut grass and a hint of manly sweat, mixed with some type of cologne. his face is clean shaven, giving you a chance to notice his sharp jawline as you walk together towards the football field.

"he is a gem, really. but, god, can he talk."

"i know. he got that one from me." you joke, knowing your nephew has outbursts of energy often.

yunho laughs, then opens another door for you. you finally step into the green field, nostrils immediately filling up with the pleasant smell of freshly mowed grass. you were never one for sports, but you gladly watched a game or two with your friends and now family. you wouldn't do it willingly on your own, you have more interesting things to do. but you don't hate it.

you also don't hate it when yunho places his hand on your lower back, guiding you towards the chairs where you've seen coaches and other member's of the team sit during matches. you thank heavens for the early winter sun and long sleeves, otherwise he would've seen the goosebumps from an innocent touch like that.

"have a seat. if they kick a ball in your direction, i'm sorry on their behalf."

"real comforting for my first live match, thanks."

the children run out on the field after changing, taking their positions on a white line in front of their coach. you study his moves, and needless to say, you find yourself squirming in the plastic chair quite soon. he is stern. he gives orders, guides them, and cares for them. you are turned on by something as simple as his yelling over the field. you never knew you could be so turned on by someone doing their job.

he starts the warmup, doing the squats and pushups with them. his arms aren't that big, but they are still muscular and decorated with bulging veins.

"coach, remember when you made us do pushups with your backpack on our back?" one of the older kids says.

"yeah, so? want another session?"

"no, no! i was just wondering if you could do the same." the rest of them start smirking, especially your nephew, and yunho scoffs.

"of course i can."

"but not with the backpack! with her on your back!" he points his little finger towards you, and you scoff.

"i don't think that's approp-"

"he can't do it," you accidentally interrupt, trying to save him.

he looks at you, one eyebrow cocked. you swear you could slip off the chair from the sudden rush of arousal.

"oh, really?" he asks, a smirk dancing on his lips.

"really." you decide to tease back, to see just how far it gets you.

"well why don't we try?"

he gets into the position, not even allowing you to decline. the team starts cheering, your nephew the loudest of them all.

"come on, now. sit on me."

you choke on your saliva. he smirks to himself, and you are ready to wipe it off. he likes teasing, doesn't he. little narcissist.

you walk over to him, purposely sitting on his back with force. but he holds, his wide back a comfortable seat. his arms start working his body. and your jaw drops at how easily he is doing the push ups with you on his back. the cheers get louder, seeing their coach effortlessly carry a person like that. he does a few more, just to show off, until you get off of him. your nephew runs over, hugging your leg and cheering for the handsome coach. yunho winks at you, then proceeds to train the boys.

your stops to the stadium become your new hobby. you sit on the same chair, watching the man teach the young ones, occasionally catching a glance or two from him, then arriving home and falling asleep mid day to the thoughts of his arms and voice. some days you fall asleep from simple thoughts, and some days you need a locked door and a buzzing device.

with each practice, he finds a way to somehow touch you. last time, he asked you to help him set up a new net on the goal frame. he couldn't "reach it", so he held you by your waist in the air while you secured it. if he can carry you around so easily, could he also carry you as he thrusts into you back in his office? or in the back of the-?

"guests! get up!" your mother knocks on the door, and you are quick to throw your gadget under your pillow, stopping the fantasies in your brain.

poor thing has been working non stop for the past few weeks, and still doesn't do a good enough job. sure, it gets you over the edge, but seeing yunho's slender fingers spin that ball so effortlessly when he is busy watching the kids play is just making it more complicated. not sure if on purpose, but lots of times he toys with the little hole on the ball that is there for inflating it. he circles it, slowly and carefully, eyes not leaving the green field. your eyes are locked on the ball and the middle finger rotating on the ball, mouth going dry as you almost feel that same finger circling your own hole.

"see? told you he's a gem." he interrupts your drooling one day.

"huh? oh, yes. absolutely." you catch a glimpse of your nephew celebrating victory.

you miss the way yunho bites his lip, hiding another smirk forming. he knows he has you wrapped around his finger, and he can almost smell the arousal off you. at first, he enjoyed teasing you for fun. but now? seeing that you've started showing up in short knitted winter dresses and knee high boots? it gets him going too. especially when you put those sunglasses on when you get in the car and help your nephew in his car seat, looking like a really hot young mom.

a mom he'd like to fuck all day every day in the back of the car after she drops her kids off at school.

"guests? who the hell is it?" you ask more yourself than your mother.

you throw on a sweater and the first pair of jeans you find, then check if you've put the vibrator away just in case a certain child decides to come in the room and snoop. it is securely locked in your drawer, along with a local newspaper cutout with yunho's figure on it, the jersey proudly stating his last name and his player number: nine. he looks dashing, so why not? you're not doing anything weird with it. just masturbating to it. no biggie. everyone does that.

it is a random wednesday and middle of the day. nobody familiar is coming to your mind when it comes to guests. but when you go downstairs and join your mother in the kitchen, you freeze. the big glass door to the patio is open, revealing the very coach you were just touching yourself to sitting on your favorite chair near the pool. your father hands him over a beer, like they do this every day.

"what is the coach doing here?"

"your brother invited him to wish him luck for the game next week." the woman simply explains, lining up the various cheese bites on toothpicks on the oval plate. "here, take this to your father while i grab a few more beers for them. for an athlete, you'd think he drinks less."

"mom!" you scold, in case he might have super hearing.

you carry the plate in one hand, while you use the other one to fix your hair. yunho is quick to notice you coming towards them, a smile forming on his lips as he examines you head to toe. you look cute in maroon and black, that oversized sweater hiding your waist from him. ever since he lifted you in the air that day to fix the net, he has been dreaming about holding that waist again. he wants to bite into it, leave purple marks all over it, kiss it and whatnot. you are just that addictive, and you didn't do anything but exist.

"hi, coach."

something about you calling him coach is setting his body on fire. it has the same effect on him as the word "daddy" or "sir" would have on someone else. he decides he enjoys hearing it from your lips. he hopes he'll get to hear it in a shape of a moan or gasp too.

"hi, my lovely assistant. did you know that your sister actually knows a thing or two about football?"

"soccer. and no, this dumbass right here?"

all three of you roll your eyes at his correction. yunho snickers, taking a sip of his beer.

"yes. she helps me set up the training ground and comes up with very interesting and actually beneficial stuff. the other day she even managed to score against our thirteen year old goalkeeper!"

you squint your eyes at the man, holding grudge for mocking you. he is half right, you did set up the training grounds for the kids. and you did score against the thirteen year old goalkeeper. go you!

"cheese?" you offer, stopping their little bullying session.

"why, thank you." he takes one, then continues his conversation about the upcoming game.

you run back to the kitchen, helping your mother with more drinks. you hear your nephew somewhere, and his quick and heavy footsteps.

"careful, i'm holding liquid!" you warn before he can bump into you.

you make your way towards the patio again, ready to secretly start flirting with his coach. you don't know how. you'll figure it out. only this time, he doesn't notice you coming, and stands up while still talking to your family. he doesn't hear you warn him over your nephew's loud and bad cover of the teenage mutant ninja turtles theme song, and walks straight into you, spilling the beverages all over his white t-shirt and your maroon sweater. you almost slip on the wet tiles, but his hands are quick to grab your waist and steady you. your body is pushed against his, soft breasts pressed against his own firm chest, your heart almost breaking through your ribcage and hitting his.

"shit, i'm so sorry." he finally lets go, then bends over to pick up the half empty cans of beer.

"oh, just leave it! i'll clean it up!" your voice is squeaky, hands still trembling from the interaction you just had.

his grasp is so firm, you want him to pick you up again just so you can feel that rush of lust one more time. the way his slender fingers pick up the pieces of glass from the floor shoots arrows to your core. a task so simple that it has you wondering if your brain is healthy for getting turned on by it.

"sweetie, will you go get coach yunho a new t-shirt so he can change? yunho, go with her, she will clean that up for you." your father offers, completely oblivious of your death glares.

the young man gladly accepts. he follows you quietly through the house, not yet speaking. you unlock your room, then let him in.

"ah, so this is what this door is? your nerdy little room. always wonder every time i come over."

you rummage through the pile of unironed clothes on the ironing desk in the corner of your room, trying to tell the difference from your brother's and father's plain white t-shirts.

"so you come here often?"

"not that often," he walks over to your nightstand, looking through the window above it, "they sometimes invite me for dinner or lunch as a thank you for training their grandson. say, why do you keep your room locked?"

you plug the iron into the socket, then wait for it to warm up as you turn to face him. his fingers are tracing the corner of the nightstand, somehow seductively.

"to keep my nephew from snooping." you laugh nervously, seeing how close his hand is to the forbidden drawer.

"right," he hums, nodding his head.

the iron makes a sound, notifying you that it is ready for use. you turn your back towards him, ironing the creases in the soft fabric. you hear him walk around the room, probably admiring your poor taste of room decorating when you were seventeen. you didn't manage to redecorate much, only bring in some things from your old home. like the very toy that is buzzing in his hand right now.

"interesting."

"god, give me that." your cheeks are flaming hot.

you hid today's pink pleasure, but forgot about the yesterday's one, also from an interrupted session. he holds the silver bullet vibrator in his hand, playing with the settings on it.

"give it back! it's dirty, how can you even touch it?"

"oh, so it's recently been to places? i don't know, looks pretty clean to me."

you reach for the shiny item, but he is quick to throw it in his other hand. he smiles, amused by your poor attempts at getting the gadget back.

"we can do this all day, or..." he points it towards you, like a magic wand, "you can show me the proper use of it."

your heart drops, and your stomach feels like a centipede is walking all over it. your mouth goes dry, and your eyes feel like they're going to jump out of the sockets.

"what?" you manage to say.

"show me how you use it." he simply says.

"you're crazy. here's your t-shirt." you grab it from the desk, avoiding eye contact with him.

you hear his wet one drop on the floor, and he reaches for the one in your hand. instead of grabbing the clothing item, he grabs your wrist, pulling your body into his bare one. you gasp, eyes looking up into his as his other hand snakes around your waist, vibrator still secure between his fingers.

"those jeans are driving me crazy." he admits in a whisper. "and looking at that bed, i can't stop imagining you using this on your dripping little cunt after coming back from my practice."

you hate that he is right, but you won't tell him that. ever.

"i have more attractive things to masturbate about." you whisper too, eyes dropping down on his pink lips.

"like what?"

"like that substitute coach from monday morning?"

"ah, so your little hole only clenches for song mingi? got it."

he lets go of you, throwing the vibrator on the bed. you gulp as you watch him wear the freshly ironed warm t-shirt, eyes running down to his v-line and defined abs. he is so damn hot.

"i should get back there. wouldn't want anyone to know how desperate you are for me." he winks.

"i'm not desperate!" you reach for a pillow, ready to aim it at that smirking face.

the next few days, you ask your father to take the boy to the practice. he is sad, but if you look at yunho one more time after a good training session, after his jersey starts sticking to his skin and reveals all his curves and hollows, after his sun kissed skin starts shining from sweat, and after his veins start bulging even more, you might drop on your knees at his feet and just take him in your mouth right there in the middle of the field. with nobody around, of course.

the derby is getting closer and closer, and you go to the practice one more time before it accompanying your father. you sit quietly as you watch him fidget in his usual spot. he doesn't yell today. he doesn't instruct. he doesn't do a warmup. he lets the kids play whatever they want, just shushing them when they start cussing and punishing them with burpees. he is nervous about the game, that you know.

"hey," you call after practice.

your father is busy helping his grandson change his footwear, while you busy yourself with comforting the coach.

"it'll be good. you'll win, i know it."

"our goalkeeper is kinda shit. he has been alcoholizing himself the past few days, too nervous about the derby. i'm afraid he is going to get some kind of poisoning, or that he'll show up drunk. or hung over. i don't care about the win at that point, our image will be destroyed."

you hum, looking over at the dark clouds approaching in the distance.

"get some sleep tonight. if you want, call me. i am known to put people to sleep with my talking."

he laughs, sincerely. nothing flirty this time. "will do, darling."

"i'll see you tomorrow then, coach. hopefully with a trophy in your hand."

the game went fabulously. they destroyed the other team, despite the goal keeper being a little hung over just how yunho predicted. they all cheer, your nephew is going crazy in the front row, and so are you. shiny confetti is flying everywhere, some of it landing on yunho's head. he is holding the trophy above his head, pure happiness on his face. he is cute.

the celebration continues in the decorated basketball hall, drinks and food already served and music already blasting. the audience is slowly leaving to join the team in proper celebration, and it takes almost half an hour for the place to properly empty before you can move. a few families stay behind, cleaning after everyone and collecting lost items to hand them over to the doorkeeper later. you and your mother stay to help, collecting all the confetti and food remains.

"miss! miss!"

you turn around, almost bumping into a woman. she holds a backpack in her hand, and hands it over to you.

"would you be a sugar and go give this to player nine in the locker room? their coach had to go and didn't have time to give this to him."

"but-"

"thank you so much! i've gotta run."

and indeed, she does run. your mother nudges you with her elbow, rushing you towards the stairs and to the entrance under the bleachers.

you do not know where you are going. the hallway is empty, and there are no signs on any doors. you almost reach the end, hopelessly dragging the heavy backpack with you. a door to a locker room is half opened, and you decide to knock. receiving no response, you carefully enter, the strong smell of body spray pinching your nose.

"coach?" you call.

he doesn't answer. you set the backpack on one of the benches, then make your way towards the other side of the room. a jersey is discarded on it, the number nine proudly facing up from the bench. you reach for it, feeling the fabric in your hand. he smells so good. not a strong scent, like the rest of them have. he is more of a soft vanilla mixed with slight sandalwood. you bury your nose in the fabric, surprised that even after sweating so much after the game, the jersey isn't smelly and wet.

two hands creep onto your waist, startling you and making you jump.

"i snooped through your things, so now you have to snoop through mine?" he teases.

you feel his naked wet chest press against your thin blouse, and a slight bulge in the back of your pants. he turns you around swiftly, allowing you to take a good look at him. he is fresh out of the shower, smelling absolutely heavenly. his hair is not yet dry, waterbeads sliding down his neck and collarbones and disappearing down his v-line into the towel he has so carefully wrapped around him. it hangs low on his hips, probably on purpose.

"aren't you going to congratulate me?"

"congratulations?"

"i was thinking about a different kind of congratulations. something like..." his finger pulls at the belt hoop of your pants, then lets it snap against your skin, "this."

"you have to play another match to get to that point," you tease.

"do i now?"

truth is, you wish for nothing more than to get down on your knees and have him twitch in your mouth. you so desperately need it. so you let your hand reach for his towel, easily undoing it and letting it fall on the floor. you don't look down just yet, eyes locked with his. yunho finally grabs your face by your jaw, pulling you in for a hot kiss. his tongue is quick to find yours, circling it and rubbing it all the right ways. your blouse doesn't get unbuttoned. ripping it open seems faster to yunho, firm hands shredding the fabric and letting buttons fly to the floor. you gasp at the action, and he is quick to place his hands on your breasts. you're thankful for wearing a decent bra today, not one of those you had as a teen.

"i'll have to see you wearing my jersey and bouncing on my cock one day after practice. think you could do that?"

"i think i very much could," you say, excitement running in your veins.

yunho sits on the bench, trying to pull you into his lap. you stop him, dropping down on your knees. a proper congratulations.

you take a moment to admire his length. he isn't thick, but he is very long. he feels hot under your fingers, eager to be taken cared of. your tongue gets a first taste of him, and soon after, you're struggling to take him in. he is too big for you, but the pleasure is too good for him to back away. he grabs your hair, pushing your head down to make you swallow as much of him as you can.

"yunho?"

you freeze around his cock, eyes going wide. you are hidden by a row of lockers, but only a few steps in and the whole situation would be visible to the poor intruder.

"keep going," yunho mumbles, caressing your cheek.

you slowly start swallowing him again, working your tongue around him.

"yes?" he says, masking his pleasure well.

"everyone is waiting for you, man. they already finished off that fruit tart you were waiting for!"

"let me just take a quick shower and i'll be right there."

"if you say so."

the door shuts, and yunho spares no time in ramming his cock into your mouth a few more times before pulling you off and picking you up. he slams you against the lockers, hands firm on your thighs. he manages to take off your pants, not bothering with the panties. he only pushes them aside, and not even bothering to stretch you out beforehand, carefully inserts his hot muscle inside of you. it is no use biting your hand down to hide the noises, his pace continiously ramming into the soft spot inside of you, making your eyes roll back.

"you'll have to be a bit more quiet, baby." he says, voice low and raspy.

you look at him, your body completely relaxed in his hands as you take every pump he has to offer. yunho looks at you as if he is trying to hypnotize you, with eyes so focused on your face, examining every single reaction you have to his moves.

"we wouldn't want anyone to interrupt again, would we?"

you shake your head, unable to speak. you can only moan, louder and louder, as your fingers desperately tug on his still damp hair. having had enough of your loud noises, yunho carries you to the bench, cock still buried deep inside of you. he lays you on the bench, then reaches over your head to grab something.

"open up for me," he instructs.

you do, and he gently places his jersey between your lips so it muffles your moans.

"good girl," he praises, then continues his moves.

the fabric in your mouth proves itself useful, successfully muffling the noises you make. not long after, you feel the pleasure building up in the bottom of your stomach.

"fuck, you're clenching so much, i'm going to cum soon," he hisses, hands desperately gripping your waist.

you look at him with pleading eyes, hoping he would take the message and make you cum too. he recognizes it, and brings his hand to his mouth, wetting his fingers. he then places them on your clit, rubbing the tense bud in ways that have your back arching from the bench, mentally begging him for release already.

"fuck-" he groans, speeding up.

you bite down on the fabric, focusing on reaching the sweet release, clenching your walls to help him reach his too. he moans, for the first time, throwing his head back as he fucks his seed into you, filling you up until you can't take it anymore and let it spill on the bench. the new warm sensation inside of you triggers your own orgasm, your hands reaching for his as you twitch, orgasm washing over your body in multiple ways.

yunho holds your hands above your head, pressing kisses along your exposed collarbones and neck, calming you as you get down from the high. it takes you a while to come back to your senses, feeling yunho's hair tickling your bare skin as he still peppers your skin with kisses.

he laughs fondly, seeing what a mess he made out of you. removing the jersey from your mouth, he wastes no time in kissing you properly, this time a bit softer than before.

you pull away, the cold air from the air conditioner finally hitting your bare skin and sweat, making you shiver.

"so..." you breathe out.

"so..." he repeats.

"when is your next match again?"

feedback greatly appreciated! 💕

2K notes · View notes

writingstreetspirit · 2 months

Text

One Breath, One Touch

Summary: A night out at Rita’s changes everything for the better

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Tension, reader is very shy, prolonged eye contact, kissing

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: It feels like it’s been forever since I last wrote a longer piece instead of headcanons, so here’s a Azriel piece. If you liked this, please like/comment/reblog/follow as it helps me and every other content creator out there. Thank you! 🫶🏻

—

Rita’s is full of people, not unusual as it was Saturday night. Drinking, laughing, dancing, and music fills up the building, a pleasant atmosphere of life all around you. A lot of handsome and beautiful things and people to look at, but there is only one person that’s grabbed your attention tonight.

You can tell he is watching you, because you can feel his stare in your soul. The Night Court's own Shadowsinger Azriel is just a few meters away, along with several others that are part of the Inner Circle, Cassian, Nesta, Mor, and Amren. They’re drinking and laughing, Mor and Cassian goofing along to the music.

While Azriel is there in the middle of the group, his focus seems to be entirely on you. His eyes are like whiskey, they glow in the light, and are dark in the shadows. He stands there, looking at you, waiting and watching.

You blush from the intense staring, not being able to hold the intense eye contact for more than a few seconds before having to look away, only to then return your eyes to him again, starting over the process.

This has become a routine over the years. While Velaris is not a small city, it is inevitable to run into all citizens at some point or another. Especially with you being a co-owner at the local bakery in the middle of town, you have had customers all over the Court visit to purchase freshly baked bread or sweet pastries.

That includes the Inner Circle, Feyre and Mor often visit for the delicious cupcakes, and oftentimes Azriel accompanies them, probably as a safety precaution with Feyre being with the High Lord of the Night Courts, Rhysand. The first ever time you meet the lovely High Lady you also saw Azriel.

It’s almost been four years to the day, and every time the door opened and Azriel stepped inside, your heart would race. You’d engage in small conversations, well, more like just a few words, but you’d think about those hazel eyes and dark hair for days until the next drop in.

He raises an eyebrow slightly. He leans back against the wall he’s against, and stares you down. You can sense some kind of tension like it’s something you can physically touch and see. You feel nervous, a fluttering in your stomach.

He stares at you for a while longer. When you're not expecting it, he walks away from his group and steps right up to you. His voice is low and rumbling. “Are you here alone?”

You blink slowly, feeling warmth traveling through your face. If you had a mirror to see yourself, you bet you’d be as red as a tomato. You admit in barely a whisper, “No, I came with a friend. Though I think they’ve left me for a male.”

The corner of his mouth curls down in a small frown, and he glances away from you for a split second before his eyes pierce into yours again. “She didn’t even say that she were leaving?”

You shook your head. It wasn’t the first time something like that has happened, and while it stung the first couple times, it didn’t bother you anymore.

“Would you like company? You seem lonely.” You gulp, looking away from Azriel’s intense eyes. Your cheeks are burning hot, and despite the thin dress and the slightly cool temperature you break out into a sweat. You croak, “Yes, I’d like that.”

His gaze returns to yours, Azriel’s eyes seem to pierce through you. He leans closer towards you, the a small smile forming on his lips. “Should I get us something to drink?”

“Okay,” You breathe out, your heart racing inside your chest. Azriel’s the most handsome male you’ve ever seen, and so…kind and caring. You find it hard to look at him without revealing all your personal thoughts and feelings about him. About how he’d been on your mind everyday since he first walk inside the bakery.

You can smell his scent, it is intoxicating, and it fills your mind with thoughts of him. He’s wearing that cologne that you’d sniffed out whenever he’s been near enough for years now. It’s good, fitting him perfectly. He is so close you could kiss him.

“What would you like to drink, sweetheart?” Azriel asks, and his low voice sends shivers down your spine. Your heart fluttered, he had called you sweetheart.

You don’t answer for a long moment. You’re sure that he’ll know what you’re thinking about if you answer him. Hell, he probably already knows. After all, he is a Spymaster, and a very skilled one at that. Finally you squeak out, “Surprise me.”

He smiles, then turns away to walk towards the bar. You breathe out shakily once your alone. Fuck, you think, I must look so dumb in front of him. He’s just being kind, he doesn’t like me like that. Just as you’d managed to gather yourself somewhat, he returns with to glasses in his hand. One’s a whisky, the other is…your favorite drink.

“I hope you like this one, I can get another for you if you don’t.” Azriel says, holding out the glass towards you. A shaking hand accept the glass, letting the cold drink cool your flushed skin. “Thank you. No, this is perfect actually.”

You sip the drink through the straw, a pleasant hum escaping your mouth at the pleasant taste. You miss the pleased smile forming on Azriel’s face as he takes a swing of the whisky.

“Have you had a pleasant evening, despite your friend leaving?” Azriel asked, and you look up from your drink to see that he’s already looking at you. You hum, nodding once. “I have. Have you? Had a pleasant evening, I mean?”

He chuckled, nodding to behind him where his very obviously family were still hanging out. “Indeed, but I think they’ve had more fun than me based on how much they’ve drank. Especially Cassian and Mor.”

You laugh softly, gazing down at your high heels clad feet bash fully. “Yes, it seems to be that case.”

Azriel studies you for a long while, waiting for you to look back up again. When you finally do he smiles that smile that you’d like to think was reserved just for you. Your hair has thankfully fallen in front of your face and you hope the strands hid the flush that spreads across cheeks.

“Though I can think of something else that would make this night impossible better than it already is.” Azriel spoke low, his voice barely louder than that you just managed to here him. You look at him questioning, curious as to what he was thinking.

He raises his hand, scarred fingers brushing strands of hair out of your face and tucks it behind your ear. He pauses, the space between you is electric and palpable. “Do you want to know what I’m thinking about right now?”

You want to say yes, tell me, I want to know everything single thing you’re thinking, no matter how small or seemingly unimportant, but you're too flustered to speak, so you nod instead.

He smiles slightly, it’s as if he already knew you’re tongue tied. His thumb traces your jawline, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. He whispers, “Y/N, I have been wanting to do this since the moment first I saw you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, not knowing what Azriel is referring to, but before you could ask what he meant, his lips were pressed against your.

His touch is gentle, yet intense. Your heart is pounding out of your chest. You feel alive, your whole body is humming, electric. Azriels free hand is cupping your cheek tenderly, and you melt into his touch. Your hands creep up to his waist, gripping onto the fabric both to pull him impossibly closer and to keep your unsteady legs upright. Somewhere far in the back of your mind your hoping that you’re not spilling the drink all over the back of his shirt.

You don't want the kiss to end, but eventually it does. He pulls away slowly, as if he also didn’t want to leave your pillow soft lips. His hand fall away from your face, and you look up at him. Your breath rushes back to your lungs, and you are breathless.

Azriel stares back at you, you are both breathless. Eventually he speaks, his voice is low and rumbling. “You are the most beautiful person my eyes have ever laid upon.”

Your heart races, you have never felt like this before. Never been so enamored, felt so seen, both in and out, or so cherished by another. It’s exciting and terrifying at the same time. Please, a voice in your head said, don’t ever let this feeling go away. You pant, eyes unable to look away from his for even a second, “Really?

Azriel lowers his hand to touch your chin, to cup it in his and make you look him in the eyes. They are warm and soft, unlike his usual hard and closed off expression. His voice is low and rumbling, you can feel in your heart that he is telling the truth.

“I could look at you all day.” He tells you, “and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

You lean your flushed cheek into his hand, nuzzling into his warm skin. You smile up at him, at the male that had stolen your heart. The true words spill out of your mouth without any embarrassment or uncertainty. “You are too, Azriel. So very beautiful.”

He smiles back, and his touch is gentle as he strokes your cheek. All the tension and nervousness has melted away between you. Instead a warm, cozy feeling lingers between the two of you, the rest of the visitors in the bar just background noise.

“Will you take me home with you, Azriel?” You asked, looking deep into his eyes. Azriel lowers his hand from your chin, his eyes still locked on yours.

“Yes,” he says, his face shining with what you could only describe as pure joy. Wherever your newfound confidence came from, you thanked it greatly. He puts down his whisky on the table top beside you, and you follow with your own glass. “I will take you home with me if you desire it, sweetheart.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” You ask, a small playful smile breaking out across your face. Azriel chuckles low, slowly wrapping his strong arm tenderly around your waist and gently guides you along with him out of Rita’s and into the night breeze.

#writingstreetspirit #acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #azriel imagine #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #acotar bat boys #bat boys

573 notes · View notes

xxbimbobunnyxx · 1 month

Text

Pour Some Sugar On Me

(Older!Alpha Eddie x Omega!Reader)

Summary: It’s been four months since you’ve been mated to Eddie in secret. When he takes you to “Lovers Lake” for a picnic and tells you he’s never hooked up there, it’s only right that you remedy that. WK: 1.8K

Warnings: General Omegaverse behaviors, scenting, knotting, biting, unprotected sex, outside sex, pet names, a whole lotta gushy mushy fluff. No physical descriptions of reader besides her outfit but she does have the nickname “sugar” 18+MNDI!

A/N: SURPISEEE SHAWTY!! I know it’s been a minute since I posted a ST fic but I randomly got the spark to write this today! This is set in the middle of Everlasting Sweeheart before Sugar’s dad finds out about them. Older!Eddie edit is by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple.

You’ve been seeing Eddie in secret for about four months now and it couldn’t be more perfect. Aside from the fact that it was a secret. It was hard, having to hide your mate from everyone in your life. The only person you’ve told is your childhood best friend but she lives states away. A few of your employees asked about your mark and you brushed them off, not wanting to go into details. You haven’t seen your dad since that day at the shop, the day you realized that Eddie worked for him. You missed him, and you hate sneaking around behind his back. Even though it was your idea to wait, you were ready to tell him. But your mate? He wasn’t quite there yet. So you decided not to push him for now and to just enjoy your little bubble.

Today Eddie has something “special” planned for the two of you but refuses to tell you where you’re going. He does this with every date, plans something elaborate or something as simple as a movie night at home. But it was always romantic. He put a lot of thought into these dates and it made sneaking around infinitely easier on you. On those days, it feels everything and everyone but you and Eddie cease to exist.

“Alright sugar pie, you ready?” Eddie yells down the hall, you made him leave the room so you could get ready because you had a little surprise of your own. He didn’t tell you where you were going, but he at least told you that you were riding on his bike and not in one of his cars. So you’d know what to wear. And it just so happened you had the perfect outfit.

Thus far he's only seen your softer side, your little mini dresses and Mary Jane’s with ribbons tied in your hair. Which was great for when you worked at the bakery, comfy shoes, easy movement, kept your hair out of your face. But there’s a whole other side to you he has yet to discover. You were raised by a biker, after all. You look at yourself in the mirror and smirk. You had even styled your hair differently and your make up was darker than your everyday look. Eddie was going to shit.

“Yeah baby, I’m ready.” You exit the room and Eddie’s jaw literally drops and his keys that were dangling from his fingers fall to the ground.

“Sugar… you look…” his eyes roam your figure, drinking in every inch, every detail. The glossy leather of your thigh high platform boots. The little black ripped jean shorts. The tiny little white tank top. And last but not least? You’re wearing a fucking leather battle jacket. “Wow. You look so fucking sexy. Did you get new clothes?”

“Nah. This is stuff I’ve had forever. I actually started this jacket back in highschool and have gradually added to or changed it. I feel like you’re forgetting who my dad is, Eddie bear. Have you ever looked in my closet? There’s more to me than you think.” You approach him, running your cherry red fingernail along his jaw, causing him to shiver under your touch.

“You’re telling me my little sugar girl has a bad ass rocker side I don’t even know about?” He grips your hips in his large ringed hands, pulling your body taunt against his.

“Guess you’ll just have to stick around and find out.” You pull back, shooting him a wink. “You ready to go or are you gonna stand here and ogle me all night?”

“Oh baby, I’m gonna ogle you alright… but, I’m ready to go.” He gives your butt a little pat before leaning down to pick up his keys. “Come on, get your sexy ass out the door.”

“Okay, okay, I’m going. You don’t have to be pushy.” You tease, giggling as you connect his lips to yours.

Eddie drove his bike to the edge of town, turning down a dirt road and stopping when he reached the lake he apparently nicknamed “lovers lake”. He had a whole picnic packed tightly in the seat compartment of his motorcycle with all your favorite foods and treats. He even brought little candles and wine.

“This is nice Eddie, it’s really pretty here.” Your head is resting on his shoulder and you smile up at him sweetly.

“Yeah? I’m glad baby. Used to come out here in highschool in my van. Open up the back and just smoke and think, enjoy the silence. Figured it would be nice.” He smooths a hand over your hair before cupping your cheek, placing a tender kiss on your forehead.

“All by yourself? You didn’t bring any girls out here? That’s why they call it lovers lake, right?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him playfully.

“Ha! No, definitely didn’t bring any girls out here. Teenage Eddie wasn’t very popular with the ladies.”

“Hmm… that’s too bad, seems like a nice place to get your guts rearranged by a hot metal head, if you ask me.” You rest a hand on his chest, looking up at him with hooded eyes.

That’s how you ended up where you are now, bent over Eddie’s bike, your shorts discarded on the ground somewhere, panties pushed to the side and his tongue buried as deep inside you as possible. He insisted you keep the boots and the jacket on because it was “really doing it for him”.

“Fuck baby, you always taste so sweet.” Eddie mumbles against your core, the vibrations causing you to moan out. His skilled tongue pushes you closer to the edge with each passing second. He leans down to take your clit between his lips as his thick digits circle your entrance. He starts to thrust his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right so they brush against your sweet spot with each stroke. It has you seeing stars, your pussy clenching so tightly around his fingers he feels like they’re going to get pushed out.

“Oh my god! Fuck, Eddie! Feels so fucking good, you always make me cum so good. Want your cock.”

“Don’t worry sugar, I’m not fucking done with you yet.” You hear the sound of his belt, followed by his zipper. He pushes his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free, taking it in his hand and running it through your slick folds. “How bad do you want it?”

“So bad alpha, want your knot.” You whimper as you push back against him. He pushes into you in one breath taking thrust.

“Ah fuck, you’re always so god damn tight.” Eddie pushes his hips flush against yours, his tip brushing against your sweet spot. His hands grip onto your ass, the cool night air making his rings cold against your skin. He squeezes the flesh of your cheeks while he starts to rock into you slow and deep, teasing you.

“Eddie, faster, please, go faster.” You bounce back against him, your ass jiggling deliciously in his tattooed hands.

“Yeah? My pretty girl wants it faster?” He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back inside you, the sound of his hips clapping against your ass echoing through the trees. He starts to fuck into you hard and fast, your upper half resting against the plush bike seat and the tips of your boot clad feet are the only thing touching the ground.

“Mmm alpha, I need your cum. Need your knot. You make me feel so fucking full.”

Eddie leans forward, his chest pressing against your back, making his cock thrust even deeper inside you. One of his hands snakes around you to rub your clit while he brings his lips to your neck, leaving sloppy wet kisses along the expanse of your throat. He shoves his nose into your scent gland and inhales, your sugary sweet scent sending his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

“You smell so fucking good omega. My omega. My sweet girl.” He nips at the skin of your neck before biting down, latching his teeth to your skin. It’s all too much. It all feels too good. The speed of the circles on your clit increases and that’s all it takes to send you tumbling over the edge.

“Ohmygod! Eddieeee, mmm fuck.” He fucks you through it before leaning up off of you to chase his own high.

“This pussy’s so fucking good. Tastes so sweet. Sucks me in so good. So tight. Fucking made for me.” His eyes don’t know where to settle, his thick cock disappearing into your creamy walls over and over again. The way your back is curved from how you’re bent over his bike. The way those fucking boots hug the top of your thighs.

“Give your cum alpha, fuck a pup into me.”

“Oh god.” His hips slap hard against yours a few more times before he’s pushing them flush against your ass, filling you with ropes of his cum. His knot starts to swell inside you and he goes to pull out so you aren’t stuck in this awkward position until it goes down but you just hook your leg around his, keeping him in place.

“No, I want your knot, Eddie. I’ll stay like this all night just to have it.”

“Jesus Christ.” You let out a little whimper that turns into a loud moan as his knot pops inside you. The feeling sending you into another mind blowing orgasm. Eddie leans his chest down against you again so he can leave loving little pecks against your cheek and rub his nose against your throat.

“That was so fucking hot.” You giggle, reaching behind you to tangle your fingers in his hair.

“Yeah, it was, but now we’re stuck like this. So I’m gonna need you to stop laughing or we are going to be stuck here all night.” Eddie chuckles as he leans into your touch.

“Just fall back on your ass, it’ll be fine.”

He leans up, gripping your hips as he lets his ass fall back onto the ground. He lands with you on top of his lap with a gentle thud.

“Guess this isn’t so bad.” Eddie cups your cheek, turning your head to the side so he can connect your lips in a passionate kiss. No matter how many times he kisses you like this you think it’ll still make a bomb filled with butterflies go off in your stomach.

“So… how was your first lovers lake hookup?”

“World altering. Wouldn’t have wanted it to be with anyone else. I love you, sugar.”

“I love you too Eddie, so much.” You giggle fondly, taking his face in your hand.

“You’ve seriously gotta stop with that cute ass giggling or I’m just gonna have to fuck you again.”

“Maybe that’s what I want?” You raise a challenging eyebrow at him, a smirk spread across your lips.

“Ohhh you’re in for it now.” He grabs your hips, manhandling you onto your hands and knees with his knot still inside you. “I can stay here all night.”

Taglist: @eddiesxangel @bimbobaggins69 @fairymunson @artistwhodoesntpost @witchyhippysstuff @djoseph-quinn @freak-of-hawkins

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #Dolly writes #alpha!eddie munson #alpha!eddie #alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader #older!eddie munson #older!eddie x reader #everlasting sweetheart #eddie munson x reader smut #older!eddie smut

443 notes · View notes

buffetlicious · 11 months

Text

Took this Garlic Ficelle from the Japanese bakery Four Leaves and refreshed it in the oven with leftover shredded cheese I had in the fridge. Stuffed the cheeses between the sliced gaps and toasted it for 10 minutes and it smell so good.

#Four Leaves Bakery #Japanese #Garlic Ficelle #Garlic #Herbs #Butter #Cheese #Baked #Bread #Snack #Food #Buffetlicious

19 notes · View notes

thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 months

Text

the taste

buttercup, chapter four

a/n: the smutty smut has arrived, folks!

summary: “look, all I’m saying is that he likes you, a lot. He’s never let himself be with anyone like you, anyone who truly made him happy, anyone he actually had a fighting chance of getting a stable and healthy relationship out of.”

warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, smut, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, kissing, over the clothes fun, dry humping, fingering, dirty talk

word count: 2419

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

previous chapter | series masterlist | next chapter

masterlist | join my taglist

It had been the end of June when your parents passed. You didn’t recall much from that summer, most of your memories had just kind of faded away as the brain occasionally does when it’s faced with trauma, but one thing that you’d never forget was the feeling of Howard, each and every morning, gently lifted you out of bed and attempted to let you sleep a little longer, holding you like a tiny baby bear against him, as they went to open up the bakery.

School was out, and at only nine years old, you couldn’t just stay at home all alone, not with their long hours and especially not with the overwhelming grief you were dealing with. So, they brought you with them.

It didn’t take very long before you forgot about your toys and activity books in favour of just watching the magic that went on in the kitchen. Soon you were running around the place doing all matter of little tasks they could come up with for you and when they noticed the missing glint it brought back to your eye, they began to teach you and truly made you fall in love with the meditative craft.

At the end of that summer when the next school year rolled around, you didn’t wanna leave. You’d grown up here, you’d healed here, the doorframe into the small lavatory in the back even had little chicken scratches documenting your height. This place was your home.

Sweeping a damp cloth over the steel tabletops, the music emanating from your phone that rested on the dark windowsill suddenly stopped as it buzzed with your ringtone. Putting it on speaker, you kept on wiping the surface down.

“Matt, hi!”

“Hey,” his deep timbre filled the dim kitchen of the bakery.

“I’m just about to lock up, if you’re still up for a little company.”

“Yeah, about that,” he puffed out a heavy breath, “I’m still at the office.”

“Oh,” your moments froze a moment, “is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just swamped with this case prep.”

“Is it just you there?”

“No, the others are here too.”

“Well,” you exhaled a smile, “if you’re gonna burn the midnight oil, maybe I could come over with some of the leftovers from today to keep you guys going?”

Still in the doorway, your arms enclosed around Matt and the stuffed brown paper bag in your hand hung over his shoulder.

Eyeing the goods, Foggy’s voice found your ears, “is that the–”

“Yeah,” you simply extended your arm in his direction, “here you go, take it.”

“Oh my god,” he snatched it out of your grasp and opened the crinkly bag up, nearly drooling as he glanced through the selections, “Karen, could you–”

“Get some plates? Yep,” the honey-haired woman then moved into the small kitchenette and grabbed some paper plates and napkins.

Drawing back from the fleeting embrace, Matt then asked, “how was your day?”

“It was fine,” you shrugged, your eyes briefly flickering over his attire, the tie tugged loose around his unbuttoned collar and his sleeves were rolled up past his burly forearms, “I kinda like it when I get to do the night shifts all alone. It’s so quiet–, oh, and I get to have full control over the music choice. It’s great,” a slight grin brightened your features, “how about you, huh?” you grabbed his hand in yours, “what’s this wild case about?”

A deep sigh flowed from his lips as he squeezed your hand, “uh, it’s this kid who–,” his phone then abruptly began to buzz in his pocket, “oh, sorry,” he fished it out, “I gotta take this.”

Letting go of his fingers, you said, “of course,” and watched as he ducked into his own office and answered the call.

As you gazed at his visage still visible through the glass, Foggy’s words stirred you from your daydream.

“He’s happy.”

Turning to blink back at him, you hummed, “huh?”

“You make him happy,” Foggy smiled from the humble conference room, “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him smile that much with anyone else, but then again, you are quite different from his usual type.”

Passing over the threshold into the space, your brows furrowed, “I’m not his type?”

“No! Oh, that came out wrong,” he winced, “Matt just has a tendency to get involved with the wrong kind of girls. You’re just different,” hastily adding, “in a good way.”

“Oh…” you sank down into one of the chairs, wondering tensely if he was still dating others since you’d never had a conversation about how exclusive you were or how serious this thing between you even was, “does Matt date a lot?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it that, since it never really lasts that long,” Foggy said, though when he noticed the look on your face, his features soured in regret, “wow, I’m really screwing all of this up, aren’t I… look, all I’m saying is that he likes you, a lot. He’s never let himself be with anyone like you, anyone who truly made him happy, anyone he actually had a fighting chance of getting a stable and healthy relationship out of.”

Just then, you heard Matt’s footsteps entering the room from behind you, “hey,” he called Foggy’s attention, “you mind going down to the station tomorrow morning, check if Brett can get us any files that might help?” coming to a stop just behind where you were seated, his touch grazed the back of the chair. Reaching back, you caught one of his hands and briefly craned your neck, bringing his palm up to your lips to press a small peck to his calloused skin.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll go buy some more cigars,” Foggy sighed, briefly turning his attention back to the computer before him, slumping slightly as the intimidating and tangled laws still flashed back at him on the screen from when he’d looked them up earlier, he then blinked back up at you, “hey, Y/n?”

“Hm?” you hummed, meeting his eye as you weaved your fingers with Matt’s.

“Have I ever told you that my mom wanted me to be a butcher?”

“Oh,” you heard Matt sigh dramatically behind you as Karen too bit down on her lip to suppress a smile, “not the butcher story.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry to break the news,” you said light-heartedly as you chewed on the taste Matt had offered you of his curry, “but I definitely picked the better one.”

With his tinted glasses resting on the coffee table beside where your takeout container of Thai food rested, a smile twitched on Matt’s lips, “well, you do work in food, so it does make sense that you’re better at ordering.”

“Here,” you filled your spoon up with the red soup, catching one of the floating pieces of tofu, before bringing it up to his lips, “give it a taste.”

An airy giggle bubbled out of you as a drop of soup clung to the corner of his lip and you instinctively reached out to wipe it clean, his chuckle swiftly mirroring your own. Though when you then froze, fingers staying close, your laughter faded. The fluorescent light that streamed in through the tall windows of his apartment illuminated his features as you watched him swallow the small taste. Ghosting your thumb across his skin, you traced his bottom lip. You weren’t sure who moved first, but the next thing you knew, you were locked in a kiss.

You faintly heard him place his dinner down on the coffee table before his palms came up to cup your cheeks. You fumbled a bit, trying not to tip anything as you laid down the spoon in your grasp.

A yearning whimper seeped from deep within your chest when you felt his tongue faintly ghost against your own before he breathlessly eased back a bit to utter, “you’re right,” stealing a soft peck before he went on, “It does taste really good.”

Tilting your chin, you fervently captured his lips once more, your touch crumbled up his shirt till it found purchase in his already loosened tie, playing with it as your tongue danced against his.

When he buried his hands in your hair, his short nails soothingly scraped over your scalp and a small moan flowed from you and vibrated against his kiss.

The clear pulse that rocked throughout your body accumulated between your legs in a dizzying throb, an enchanting sensation that swayed you to get even closer and crawl into his lap. His wide palms dragged down the length of your spine in a way that caused a shiver to follow along.

Tangling your fingers in his hair as you kissed him back, your hips then instinctively sought to scratch and satisfy the itch that had grown so immense by rocking down against him and the noticeable hardness that tented his pants.

Breathlessly in between kisses, Matt said, “you wanna enjoy the food before it gets cold?” offering you a gentle escape in case you needed it.

Ghosting the tip of your nose against his, you uttered, “I don’t mind popping it in the microwave,” deliberately rolling your hips against his once more, “do you?”

Sharing his hot breath, you were so close that your lips nearly crashed into one another once more, but they didn’t as your pelvis kept up their slow and teasing grinding. Matt’s eyes fluttered shut a moment as he let out a low groan, “no,” his touch slid further down and dug into the softness of your bottom, “no, I don’t mind.”

Capturing your lips once more, he slowly began to grow more confident in his touch, though some weariness still lingered as he began to aid your movements.

As his lips migrated down the length of your neck, you let out a moan, “fuck,” your frame shivering from the pleasure, “oh my god,” yet also out of a deep desire for more, “Matt…”

“Yeah?” his low voice vibrated against your throbbing pulse on the side of your neck.

“M-Matt–,” your eyes fluttered shut as he rocked you down harder against him, “oh, holy fuck… could you–, would you–”

“What?” the sound of his words made you feel dizzy, “what do you need?”

“Touch me,” you uttered hazily, head enchantingly tilted back.

“Yeah?” he reeled back a bit as one of his hands scooped up to find your cheek.

“Please,” you downright whined, “please, Matt.”

Keeping one hand fast in your hair, the other one moved to caress the soft peaks of your tits.

“Here?”

You let out a filthy whimper as he palmed you, “uhh, ngah–, lower–…” his hand teasingly complied, “lower…” till he finally cupped you through your pants.

“Here?” he pressed down against the seam, “huh? Is it here, Y/n?

“Y-yes!” you shuttered on top of him as he rubbed your thrumming clit so perfectly through your clothing, “oh, f-fuck, you’re good at that–”

He stole a short, yet sloppy kiss from your lips before your head tilted down and buried itself in his neck. Your moans were muffled against the crook of his shoulder as you then glided your own fingers down along the length of his arm, feeling the muscles of his forearm tense beneath your touch as he worked you. Eventually, your hand found what it was looking for, your palm rested atop of his, almost like you were holding his hand as you felt it move beneath yours and stroke you silly.

Your fingers then grasped his tighter as you plucked it further up and stuffed it into your waistband, guiding his reach all the way down till you soaked his digits.

“Christ, you’re wet,” Matt groaned as your touch, ever atop of his, begged him to swirl your puffy pearl, “fuck…”

Without the barrier of clothing, your frame swiftly began to crumble from the ecstasy. Your right leg gave out and slid across Matt’s lap to where your other limb was. Your head drifted down as well as Matt’s arms only tightened around your slumped form, keeping you flush against him as you hid your features in the mass of his arm as your free hand clutched onto it.

Curling into him as he cradled you, the way he petted your pussy nearly made you vibrate, “don’t stop, please,” you unintentionally kept wiggling down against the tent in his pants.

“I won’t,” he breathed heavily as he kept on caressing you, occasional moans also flowing from his lips, “I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

His long middle finger then slid down to tease your leaking hole before just shyly sinking in, just barely, keeping everything so light, before fluttering up to circle your clit again and then dropping down to repeat the motion till he had you on the edge.

When you tumbled over, both of your hands joined at his bicep, digging into it as his name shined through your lewd moan.

Catching your breath, his fingers gently slipped out of your pants. Sluggishly, you clung closer and snaked your arms around him.

“You okay?” he hugged you tight.

“Mhm,” you hummed into his warmth.

Planting a soft peck on your hairline, he then moved to readjust your embrace, lowering you both till you were lying on the leather couch.

After a moment, your fingers twisted in the southern material of his shirt close to his belt, “do you want me to–…”

“No need,” he shook his head.

Tilting your chin up, you glanced at his soft expression, “really?”

“Yeah,” a bright smirk tugged at his lips, “just the way you sounded was beautiful enough to do the trick for me.”

Grinning wide, you felt your face grow hot at the compliment, haven not realised the power he had over you apparently went both ways.

Cuddling him closer, you lifted yourself up a bit and pressed a slow kiss to his lips.

When you laid your head back down, he asked, “do you want something to drink?” his warm palm drew slow and soothing patterns all along your spine, “some more to eat maybe?”

“No,” you blinked up at him, utterly spellbound, “could we maybe just stay here like this a little longer?”

“Of course,” he relaxed further beside you, “we can stay like this forever if you’d like.”

A smile then crept up on your lips as you pointed out, “forever’s a very long time…”

Chuckling lightly, Matt nodded, “it is…”

#lea’s writing #buttercup series #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #matthew murdock imagine #matt murdock x fem!reader smut #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #daredevil x reader #matt murdock series #matthew murdock x reader #matthew murdock smut #matt murdock angst #matt murdock hurt/comfort #marvel smut #matt murdock fluff

325 notes · View notes

kenananamin · 6 months

Text

Family, meet family

Summary: After leaving the jujutsu world behind and moving away to start his family, Nanami Kento wonders if his kids will ever meet the people he considers his family back in Tokyo. fluff, time skip, everyone is happy and everything is ideal (just let me pretend and be delusional w me pls), nanami x fem!reader, the very end implies a big spoiler (a/n: for easier reading I will be giving the kids names but feel free to imagine another name if you'd like. and going along with the fact that nanami is a girl dad, he's got his girls in this story. the eldest is june and the youngest is kai. this will be what happened after the ending of my other story "All I ask, all I want". thank you anon for this idea, i hope you enjoy 🖤)

It was a busy day at the bakery and Nanami had taken the girls upstairs to get them ready for bed. It has been four years since Nanami left the jujutsu world and although he wanted to go as far as as he could to escape everything and everyone that could harm his family, your family settled in Iwakuni, Japan. It was a small city and not the secluded town Nanami thought he'd end up in once he had a family, but it was comfortable enough for Nanami to live in and a perfect sized community for his kids to grow up in.

Nanami had bought a newer built house for the family and surprised you when he said he wanted to add space to the house... for a bakery. You were a few months pregnant at the time he brought up this idea and as scary as it was to start a business during such a changing time, the sparkle in his eyes when he brought up the idea convinced you. He had the addition finished when your eldest was 3 months old and Ami Bakery was opened for business by the time she was 7 months old. Your house always smelled like bread from Nanami's trial and error baking and neighbors quickly flocked to the new bakery. You were both more than thankful for the business, but it did leave the whole family tired at the end of the day.

You finish wiping down the counter, turn off the lights, and lock the door from the bakery leading into the rest of the house. You hear very soft giggling from the girls upstairs and you smile while ascending the stairs and heading into their room, "It's time to sleep, close your eyes and stop giggling." Your three and two year old giggle a bit more before snuggling into their blankets and giving a soft ok. You lean down to kiss them goodnight before leaving their room to find your husband.

Nanami was sitting at his desk in your joint office with only a small desk light on and a small opened box in front of him. You close the gap and hug him from behind to look at what he's so focused on. Your head is next to his and you wait for him to speak after seeing the picture he's holding.

Nanami turns his head to kiss your cheek and begins, "June is learning about family trees at daycare. Mom, dad, aunts, uncles, grandparents... she asked if they had any aunts and uncles from me." Nanami tilts the photo in your direction, a beach outing that Gojo had insisted on. The first and second years were present and everyone was smiling or at least looking at the camera. Nanami is in the corner, but you could tell he stepped closer for the photo. "This is all I could think of. I have my family here, you and them... but they were my family too. This is their family, their aunts, uncles, cousins even if they'd like that instead."

He puts the photo down and grabs the Jujutsu pin from the box with a few more photos. You rub his shoulders and rub your face in his neck while you say, "Yuji hasn't called in a while, why don't you call and ask if he'd like to visit for a few days? He can tell the others and we'll set up the rooms for them. And we'll even put them to work in the bakery, they might bring in some more customers wanting to see their pretty faces."

Nanami laughs at the suggestion but shakes his head, "They're too busy. None of them can leave Tokyo for a few days right now." He sighs and puts the pin and photo back in the box.

You snuggle your face into the crook of his neck and ask, "What if we went to Tokyo instead? Besides Yuji coming down to visit and a couple calls with Megumi and Gojo, nobody else has had the chance to meet the girls."

Nanami looks at you, somewhat surprised by the suggestion of visiting Tokyo with the girls. He looks at the opened box and after a moment of contemplating, Nanami smiles and kisses your cheek again.

———

Nanami stops just outside the steps of the school and kneels down to eye level with the girls, "You need to tell me if you see something weird or if something scares you. Please, tell me if you feel uncomfortable and want to go, we'll leave immediately." The girls nod and impatiently jump to start ascending the steps.

Nanami had always wondered if the girls inherited anything. He didn't want them to see any curses and would exorcise any he would see before the girls even noticed. He never wanted the girls to know fear at such a young age and he'd protect them from it as much as he could.

He stands back up and faces you, "You need to tell me if you feel anything too. Even if you don't see it, I don't want you to be uncomfortable." He knew you were a non-sorcerer but he'd always check in with you for any bad feelings. You nod and smile to try to ease his worry and nerves from being back in Tokyo.

"Nanamin!" You both hear fast steps heading towards your family and you turn to see an excited Yuji running at full-speed.

Nanami steps away from the girls sensing that Yuji would jump on him as soon as he got close… and he did. Yuji was not small by any means and Nanami stumbled but he held him tightly as the young man wrapped his legs around his old mentor.

On the way to Tokyo, Nanami told you everything he knew about what the students were doing. Gojo would occasionally send him updates but Yuji was the one who would blow up his phone at least once a month with updates from everyone.

Yuji had graduated from Jujutsu High and was working as a full-time sorcerer with a few of his classmates. Megumi joined Yuji as a full-time sorcerer and both would go on missions while doing special field classes with the current students. Nobara was designing her own clothes and working as a photographer while in fashion design school, but would get called in if she was needed.

The students who were in their second year when Nanami left were in similar situations. Maki was still based in Tokyo but was planning to make her return to the Zen’in Clan soon, Yuta had returned to Tokyo and would often get sent to special overseas missions wherever needed like Gojo, Inumaki and Panda were working alongside Yaga and were very important factors to the current student’s education and training.

Gojo was still as Nanami described, “just Gojo.” Only this time, he would say it with a smile on his face instead of the annoyance previously there. Gojo had tried visiting before but those plans were always interrupted by some other thing. Nanami would smile and say it would happen next time, but you could clearly see his disappointment. He would spend those early mornings before the cancellations getting the girls in their best outfits and would make more of his special bread that was usually just reserved for you and the girls.

But now, even with the young man dangling on his body and putting more strain than usual on his back, Nanami was happy. He held onto his student - no, his friend, and would not let him go until Yuji himself got off.

“Itadori, get off of Nanami-sensei,” Megumi calmly walked to the group and slightly bowed to you and the girls.

Yuji puts his legs down and stands before leaving Nanami’s arms and going straight to you. You open your arms for him and he gladly accepts with a tight hug that’s followed by him picking you up and slightly wiggling you, “I’m so excited you’re all here! I have so many places lined up but you can choose where we go! And I have so much to tell you!”

You laugh and nod, the tight hug not really letting you speak. Yuji lets you go and you finally see his wide smile again. It’s the same smile he had when he first visited you guys in Iwakuni, healthy and happy. Yuji turns to the girls and kneels to open his arms. Megumi follows suit next to Yuji and extends his hand to give them a handshake. Kai turns to Megumi after her hug with Yuji and lifts her arms for him.

———

Yuji is carrying a giggling June on his shoulders while skipping. Megumi is carefully holding a quiet Kai who is just quietly staring at him like her life depended on it. “Like calls to like,” Nanami says while holding your hand and laughing at the scene of his kids all together.

You hear a few quick clicks as soon as everyone is entering one of the buildings on the grounds. You turn and see a young woman holding a camera. She stands straight and starts bickering with Yuji about them taking too long. She ignores Yuji’s last remark and goes to greet you both with a warm smile. She introduces herself as Nobara, and she is even prettier than the photos you last saw of her.

She shows you the photos she took of the girls with the 'idiots' and a photo of you and Nanami smiling at the kids, then hands you her card “for any future photographer needs.” She turns back around towards the girls and starts complimenting June on her beautiful hair and Kai on her beautiful light brown eyes. She tells the guys to let them down and points her camera at the girls. Nobara moves around while getting different angles before asking if they could go out to the yard for the natural lighting.

Down by the trees Nobara wanted to take photos at, a female voice called out for Nanami. You both turn and you immediately recognize the woman who once helped you as Shoko and the man who would always talk very highly of your husband as Ino. Nanami waved to Shoko as she returned a warm smile while Ino dismissed a few current students that were with them both.

"I'm sorry if you were in a class, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything," Nanami stepped towards his old friends and Ino reached for a hug. It wasn't the same clinging hug as Yuji but Ino had his eyes closed and was completely focused on the hug. After a hug that might've been too long for most people, Ino stepped away from the hug but was still laser focused on his old teacher. You could see his eyes drifting all over Nanami's face while he spoke. He was looking at his friend while he spoke, but noted the crows feet and smile lines that were finally being marked after decades of a stoic face, and his overall aging face. You knew that Nanami had noticed Ino's stare as well, his observation skills from being a sorcerer never departed and he noticed everything, but he knew better than to point out certain things. This was one of them, he did not mind Ino looking at every detail of his face... because he was doing the same.

Everyone was older. It was amazing to see the students get older, but seeing the people he grew up with get older even by a bit was a happy but grim reminder of the time that passed without each other. He was truly thankful that he could spend another moment with his family and friends after years of not being in the same space as them. It had only been a few years, but it was far too long for everyone.

Panda, Inumaki and Maki start coming down to the yard from the same direction that Shoko and Ino had come from. Panda starts a light jog towards the group and you hear an audible gasp from the girls after seeing a panda act like a human. Kai went to hide behind Megumi, or Goomi as she started calling him, and June went to Nanami's side while staring at the approaching Panda.

"Nanami-sensei, it's been a while," Maki smiled at you and her old teacher while swinging the staff she was carrying behind her arm.

"Salmon," Inumaki waved to the group followed by quiet giggles from beside Nanami.

"Salmon?" June giggled but still hid behind Nanami and kept an eye out for the panda.

After June's giggles as the trio all got closer, Gojo just... appeared. Despite Nanami telling you what Gojo could do, it was surprising to see anyone appear anywhere in a split second. "Well, looks like I'm the last one to the party." Gojo takes off his blindfold and puts on his glasses.

"Don't worry, we expected that," Maki waves him off and lightly grazes Kai's hand that's tightly holding onto Megumi. She might not be as playful or expressive with the girls as the other kids but she was trying to get close in her own way.

With Gojo's arrival, Nanami leans down to pick June up and motions for Megumi to pick up Kai and bring her to him, "I want you guys to meet someone," Nanami takes Kai from Megumi's arms. Holding both girls in his arms, he tells you to step closer before pointing his head to the adults and his old students that have now gathered as a small group, "Family... meet family."

June and Kai look at the group and start with small smiles. They both had opposite personalities but the girls were very warm with any new people they met. But June broke into a wide smile first, "Family?" Nanami nodded with a big smile and June turns back to the group, "Family!"

June reaches for Shoko's hand and she steps forward to playfully shake your daughter's hand while Kai lays her head on Nanami's shoulder. Gojo got close to Kai and stroked her back to get her to look at him. "I'm Uncle Gojo," he smiled at the little girl, "you can call me if you're in trouble but don't want to tell your parents."

"Gojo, she's two. And please don't tell my daughter that," Nanami sternly told Gojo but the small grin on his face made Gojo double down on the girls calling him for help.

Nanami puts the girls down so they can say hello to everyone and June takes Kai by her hand and goes to introduce herself and her sister to each person... and Panda. She left Panda for last but you could tell she was intrigued by him and would most likely keep going back to him.

Gojo pulls out his wallet, then a card, and gathers June and Kai to his side to explain how to use the card. Nanami stops him with a hand on his shoulder and shakes his head. Gojo shrugs, puts his card back but pulls out six 10,000 yen notes and tells the girls, "Uncle Gojo will give you more when he comes to visit. There's more where that comes from."

Nanami face palms and the girls look over the money and thank Gojo but give it to Nanami to hold. Shoko laughs behind Gojo telling him he needs to practice being around kids and Ino agrees saying that he'd have to most likely bribe Nanami's kids with bread instead. Gojo is promising that he'll keep trying to win the girls over and be their favorite uncle when Yuji runs in and tags Kai to play with him. Kai tags Megumi who then tags Yuji again and the three start to run towards the open space in the yard. June returns to Panda and Inumaki's side where Inumaki kneels down to compliment her dress... maybe. Without Nanami translating, it was hard to figure out what he was trying to say.

You step away from the group to start setting up the picnic you prepared underneath a large tree. Nanami had packed a variety of breads he wanted his family to try and some special treats the elderly neighbors had dropped off after they found out you were going to Tokyo to visit family. You're opening the basket and pulling out the bags of bread when you look back up at your husband.

Nanami's smile appeared much easier than before. His shoulders were slouched in relaxation compared to his stiff shoulders from his time as a sorcerer. And the soft and light stubble on his face was the perfect sign of a busy baking father who perhaps didn't have the time to shave, but had the time to do his daughter's hair and painstakingly choose every part of their outfits down to the socks.

Now it’s your turn behind the lens. You grab your phone and point the camera to the older group first. Nanami, Gojo, Shoko, and Ino are watching the kids and talking about something that was probably long overdue. You make a mental note to invite Gojo, Shoko and Ino to your house for a special dinner and adult night out with Nanami. They have been through enough together and individually, they deserved a fun and carefree night at the minimum. After a short video and many photos of the older group, you turn the camera to the younger group. Panda is throwing June up in the air before catching her and doing it again and again. Inumaki is his second pair of hands and has his arms stretched out to catch June at any given moment. Kai is running after Megumi while being chased by Yuji pretending to be a zombie. Nobara and Maki are watching from the side underneath another tree, laughing about whatever Nobara is showing her from her phone.

What a scene. What a beautiful, nonthreatening, completely content scene. Nanami was more than happy in Iwakuni, there was nothing more he would ever wish for, but he was happy to finally see his group again. You knew he regretted the last view everyone had of him as a limping man. He had wanted to walk out with his head held high, proud and an accomplished sorcerer, not the defeated and heavily scarred man who barely escaped death.

Today, Nanami would leave Jujutsu Tech as a happy, healthy, and completely fulfilled man while holding your hand as you both carried your girls back home. All with a promise to see his jujutsu family again in Iwakuni.

623 notes · View notes

daisynik7 · 6 months

Note

if your karaoke event is still open i’d like to request glamorous by fergie with sugar daddy!nanami - fluff and smut, maybe some mile high inspired by “We flyin' the first class, up in the sky” thanks!

Glamorous

We flyin' the first class up in the sky

Pairing: Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.4k

cw: established relationship, smut - semi-public sex, vaginal sex (cowgirl position), dry humping, clitoral stimulation, pet names, slight daddy kink

Summary: Your sugar daddy takes you halfway across the world in first class, so naturally, things get a little naughty.

Author’s Note: Love love love sugar daddy!Nanami and this is such a classic for the y2k karaoke party. Thanks for the request and I hope you like this! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune (as always).

You make it very obvious that you’ve never been in first-class before. As Nanami holds your hand, leading you down the aisle, you audibly gasp at how large the seats are, and how there are actually barriers for privacy. You’ve only ever seen this on Youtube or Instagram, never in real life. And now, you’re here, about to experience it for yourself! It’s crazy how your life has taken a drastic turn in just a few short months.

Nanami was your first customer at the bakery you opened in the beginning of the year. He ordered two croissants, one plain and the other almond. He sat at a table, savoring each bite slowly. When he was done, he approached you, complimenting your pastry skills. You noticed flaky crumbs scattered on his tie as he was turning to leave, and without thinking properly, you tugged on it, pulling him towards you, patting at his chest with heat surrounding your cheeks. In that moment, the both of you were already smitten with each other. It took a month for you to figure out how well-off he is. It wasn’t because he was hiding it or anything; it just never mattered much to either of you. When you put the pieces together, sure, you were surprised. But even before that, you were falling fast for him. This extra bit is just an added bonus.

The flight attendant directs you to your assigned section all the way towards the back of the plane, somewhat secluded from the other passengers. You settle into the seat by the window, appreciating how comfortable it is compared to all the other regular economy class you’ve sat in. The excitement must be showing on your face because Nanami lets out a small laugh, watching you with an amused smile on his face. “Having fun?”

You grin at him. “Maybe a little too much.”

He holds your hand, placing soft kisses between your knuckles. “Well, keep enjoying it, my love. It’s going to be a long flight. Thank you again for accompanying me on this business trip. Are you sure the bakery will be okay?”

You wave him off. “It’s in great hands, so don’t worry about it at all. I’m just happy to be here with you.”

“Me too,” he says, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. He lingers for longer than you expect, then brushes past your cheek to whisper in your ear, “Can’t wait to get you on top of me.”

You tap on his chest playfully, heat surrounding your face, flustered. “Kento, we’re in public.”

He tips his head to the side. “And…?”

“We can’t do it here. Not when there’s people around.”

He reaches for the door, sliding it shut. If you didn’t already know that you were amongst others, it truly does seem like you have your own private space. “Is this better?” he asks.

You roll your eyes at him despite the fluttering in your belly, thrilled about the possibilities. “Behave yourself.”

He plants a smooch on your cheek, acting innocently. “Okay, sweetheart. Whatever you say.”

~~~

More than thirty thousand feet up in the air, four hours into the flight, and the best airplane food you’ve ever had in your life properly digested, you and Nanami are ready for bed. All the cabin lights are dimmed low and the flight attendants check in one last time before wishing you goodnight. Your boyfriend closes the door quietly then reclines his seat halfway, resting his palms behind his head. He glances at you, smirking as he closes his eyes completely shut. “Well, goodnight.”

You study him silently, wondering if you should jump on this opportunity to do something naughty or if you should just go to sleep, like a good girl. He peeks at you with one eye, catching your gaze. “Something on your mind?” he asks, as if he already knows the answer.

You shrug, unsure how to bring it up without eating your words from earlier. Luckily, he doesn’t make you. He beckons you over, patting his lap, voice low and sultry. “Come here.”

Worried that everyone on the outside of your pod will become aware of the nefarious deed you’re about to commit, you move quietly, stripping down to your underwear before you straddle him, arms linked behind his neck. He stares up at you, a pleased expression on his face, expecting this. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist.”

So maybe he makes you eat your words just a tad bit.

You bite your lip, holding back whimpers as you grind on him, feeling his cock starting to harden after a few strokes back and forth. His grip is firm on your hips, barely guiding you, letting you be in control. He reaches towards you, pressing his thumb to your clothed clit, relishing the wet spot beginning to leak through the fabric of your panties. A moan escapes you, leading to him cover your mouth with his palm, chuckling. “Honey, you have to promise to be quiet, okay? I know how loud you can get.”

You nod. “I’ll be quiet, I promise,” you whisper against his skin.

He smiles, fingers at your chin, thumb grazing the outline of your lips. “Good girl. Now make yourself come before I give you this cock.”

Remaining still, he lets you dry hump him slowly, savoring it with his grip still firm on your hips. His breathing wavers, trying to maintain his composure, gradually unraveling from the anticipation of soon being buried in your wet cunt. As soon as you reach your first orgasm, panties soaked with your arousal, he shrugs his bottoms off just enough to free his stiff cock, glistening with precum at the tip. He reaches for the bag beside him, retrieving a bottle of lube from one of the pockets, squirting it onto his palm to coat his cock with it. His eyes never leave yours, licking his lips like he’s salivating.

You lift off your knees, trying to remove your underwear, but he brings you back to him, rutting his shaft against the dampness of your panties. “Don’t. I want you like this.” He hooks the fabric to the side, tapping his wetted tip at your clit before sliding his entire length inside you. You cling to him tighter, nestling your face into his shoulder, holding back your moans.

He begins thrusting up into you while he bounces you on his dick, his fingers digging into your flesh. “Fuck,” he mutters, brows tight with concentration. One hand glides to your ass cheek, squeezing it. For a brief moment, it hovers over your skin, and before you can convince not to do it, he slaps your ass, the smack surely loud enough for any of your neighbors to her.

You hiss his name, heat engulfing your entire body now. “Kento!” All he does is laugh, kissing you sloppily to prevent you from scolding him any further.

The seat beneath you starts creaking noisily when Nanami picks up the pace, fucking you feverishly, sweat beading from his forehead. You gain a second wind, riding him deep as he plays with your clit once more, rubbing it between his fingers. “Fuck, daddy,” you whine, grinding on him, cunt squeezing around him as you approach your second orgasm.

“That’s it, princess. Come for me. Make a fucking mess for daddy,” he growls, thrusting faster, harder, fingers squelching lewdly on your swollen bud. You come for him, whimpering into his mouth as you kiss each other passionately. He comes shortly after, shooting his hot load inside you, filling you up with his cream pie.

Before you can relax in each other’s arms as you normally would post-sex, there’s a gentle knocking on the door, startling you both. You hop off him, kicking your discarded pants somewhere hidden, retreating back into your seat, covering yourself quickly with a blanket. Nanami pulls his pants back up, doing the same, clearing his throat before answering, sliding the door just a crack. “Yes?”

The flight attendant beams at you, seemingly oblivious to what just occurred. “Your call light is on, so I’m just checking in!”

Nanami blushes, running his fingers through his hair. “I must have hit it on accident. Sorry about that.”

They smile, giving you both a knowing wink. “Don’t worry. Happens all the time. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

With that, Nanami shuts the door, hiding his laughter behind his hand as you huddle beneath the blanket, mortified at being caught, officially a member of the mile high club.

#nanami smut #kento nanami smut #nanami kento smut #nanami x reader #nanami kento #nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #kento nanami #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #y2k karaoke party #milestone event

750 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month

Text

Called to Duty 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, abandonment, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Summary: You struggle to move on from the biggest mistake of your life but find it hard to forget among the whispers of a small town.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You rub your lower back as you enter the bakery. You focus on the simple task; just a loaf of bread. You have a weak spot for the sourdough there. Just thinking about it, you could salivate.

You wait behind another customer. You think she works at the bank but you’ve never been very good with faces, even in a small town like Hammer Ford. Others don’t seem to have that issue as your name easily rolls off their tongues. The whispers are getting louder now that you can’t hide as easily.

The bank clerk sidles along the counter and glances over her shoulder as you shuffle forward. She sends you a judgmental look but you reserve any of the same. Everyone knows she’s sneaking around with the manager down at her branch.

You tug your shirt down as it threatens to ride further up your stomach. Everything’s too tight these days. Everything’s uncomfortable. Your fingers linger on the hem, touching the taught flesh beneath. Four months now.

“Hi,” you greet the woman behind the till, “can I get a loaf of the sourdough. I’ll take the day old for the discount if you got it.”

She smiles brightly and repeats your order, asking if there’s anything else. You say no. You budgeted for the bread, even a tea would put you too close to the line. She grabs you a loaf and she keys in the day-old discount.

You pay as she slips the wrapped loaf into a paper bag. Before you can turn away, she stops you, “have a cookie,” she points to the plate of shortbread beside the small specials sign. “They’re not moving.”

“I can’t,” you argue.

“You’re doing me a favour. I don’t like to throw them away,” she insists.

You smile sheepishly and take a cookie, hugging the bag above your stomach as you turn and nibble on the cookie. You cross to the door, juggling your armload as you open it, and leaving without a look back. You hear your name again before the door closes.

Who’s the father…

That’s the big question. You’re not married, not dating, so who could it be? The same question got you kicked out of your mother’s house. The pharmacy let you the dingy bachelor above as you spend your days working a till at the front.

You won’t say it, even to dispel the murmurs. You know it wouldn’t solve anything, only add fuel to the fire. ‘She should’ve known better. The golden prince of Hammer Ford is a known playboy. Why wouldn’t she be safe? Why wouldn’t she be responsible?’ They wouldn’t ask the same of him.

As you turn onto the street, your arm hits someone else and you drop the cookie. It cracks on the pavement and you look down, leaning forward to see the ruins. You deflate. Oh well, it was free, after all.

“Sorry,” a voice draws your attention from the spoiled shortbread. You look up at the man. You know him, you think. Again, you’re no good with faces.

He runs his hand over his shaved head then drags it around his beard, “I’ll get you another.”

“No, you don’t have to,” you wave him off, “I should go…”

“Miss, it’s the right thing to do,” he insists.

“Really, it’s okay,” you assure him, “I should’ve looked where I was going.”

“Me too,” he agrees.

You tilt your head and push a shoulder up, “well, have a good one.”

You turn to cross the road, looking both ways. As you step down from the curb, the man does the same. Why can’t you remember his name? You swear you ran into him before. Down at The Horn with… him.

He walks parallel to you as you cross the street. You stop and look at him, confused.

“Just seeing you across, miss.”

“Uh, thanks, that’s very nice but you don’t have to do that,” you chuckle nervously.

“I know. Just what I’m trained to do.”

You remember, he’s a soldier. Yeah, Thor mentioned that. Just thinking his name stings.

“Right, well, thanks, I appreciate that,” you put your hand on your stomach and haul the bag higher, turning toward the pharmacy just a shop down.

You hear him follow you again. It makes you nervous. Is he going to the pharmacy? It could be a coincidence, it’s a small town. Still, it’s very odd.

You go to the door just past the store entrance and take out your key. He comes right up and watches you, looming strangely at your shoulder. You hold onto your key and face him.

“You’re pregnant,” he says as if you don’t know.

“Uh, yeah,” you nearly laugh, “I am.”

“Shouldn’t be carrying all that,” he says.

“Just bread,” you answer.

“That father should be getting you bread,” he argues.

You’re put off by his demeanour. He speaks as if he’s giving orders to the world around him. You guess that’s just his nature.

“He won’t be doing that,” you shake your head. “I’m fine, really.”

“You don’t remember me,” he adds, “I remember you. You were dancing and drinking.” He looks again at your stomach. You put your hand over it defensively.

“I wasn’t like this then.”

“You weren’t,” he frowns then points to your finger, “no ring?”

This is awkward. Where everyone else in Hammer Ford is happy to whisper behind their hands, he’s interrogating you in the street. You shake your head and look down.

“Must not be a real man who did that,” he comments, “I’m Sy, just to remind you.”

“Sy,” you sniff, “right, I–”

He says your name first, “I remember.” He taps his temple, “I won’t forget.”

You swallow and the bag crinkles against your chest, “I’m… gonna go, uh, Sy, my feet hurt.”

“Be safe,” he commands.

“Thanks,” you utter awkwardly and stick your key in the slot. He stands staunchly as he is and as you pull the door open, he reaches to open it all the way and holds it, “got it.”

You keep the fragile smile on your lips and bow inside. He lets it close slowly and you pause to make sure he’s on the other side. You twist the lock into place and recoil. That was very weird.

#captain syverson #dark captain syverson #dark!captain syverson #captain syverson x reader #au #backwoods au #drabble #series #called to duty #sand castle

349 notes · View notes

bonesandchalamet · 1 year

Text

lessons in french- t.chalamet

pairings: timothee chalamet x reader

warnings: google translated French

a/n: first post on this account 😁 my main is @thatsdemko 🫶 feedback is always appreciated xx

“and how do I say ‘I love you’ again?”

“Je t'aime.” he says, mouth full of a buttery croissant you fetched from the bakery across the street. it’s your morning ritual, the boy who lives across town comes to your apartment and you get him “New Yorks finest croissants”— at least that’s how he puts it as.

your recent discovery was of his ability to speak a different language, French that is, and ever since you’ve been begging for lessons due to your upcoming trip to Europe. you could say New York public school systems failed you, as you barely remember a lick of the words he makes you repeat.

“and what about stop making a mess of my sofa.” you scowl brushing the pastry crumbs that scatter the cream colored seats. he mumbled a sorry as he finishes his last bite, a delighted moan escapes his lips.

“why the sudden interest in the language again?” he asks brushing his hands on his pants rather than using the crummy paper napkin that’s already wadded up and disintegrating from the butter of his hands.

“because I’m going to Europe in three weeks! I can’t look like an idiot.”

“certaines choses ne peuvent pas être changées.” he lightly giggles shaking his head watching your face scrunch up trying to dissect the sentence, but you fail. some things can’t be changed

you huff an annoyed sigh, arms crossed over your chest, “I wish I never bought you that croissant years ago.” you joke watching his acting skills come to life as he pretends to be hurt.

“now you’re just being straight up rude, amour.”

—

“so when a nice guy offers me a drink at the club what should I say?”

“J'ai un petit-ami.” the same buttery croissant fills his mouth, he watches you saunter across your tiny New York City living room. he admits, you not knowing any French is fun for him. it means he has all control of what you repeat back and what you write in your journal for the trip. this one might’ve just been the icing on the cake. I have a boyfriend

“J’ai un petit-ami? doesn’t that mean something else?” you question, head cocked to the side watching him shake his head in response as he swallows the pastry.

“nope.” he replies, reaching for the hot coffee you’ve provided him, he slurps the contents watching your pen move vigorously across the page. he thinks it’s cute how focused you are, he loves how close you hold the notebook to your face and how you spell out the words in a way only you will know what they mean.

“so are all French people assholes? I’ve been reading up on your people.”

he laughs, “my people?” he watches the red hue light your face, hands up in defense, “that’s what the internet says!”

he laughs once more telling you to never believe the internet, although he did play you into thinking the words “I have a boyfriend” mean something completely different, so maybe he is apart of that collective group.

—

“repeat it to me once more, amour.”

“Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?” do you want to sleep with me tonight

he chuckles a little to himself trying to find a serious tone, “that’s exactly what you should say to the cab driver.”

you chuck an orange at him watching his hands go up in defense as he allows the fruit to hit him the arm, two of you laughing, “this isn’t funny, Timmy! I leave in twenty-four hours!”

he watches you collapse against the cream colored sofa beside him, legs extending into his lap, “how am I supposed to order croissants for you across the world?” you bat your eyelids in an affection way, it’s your last hope to get help— the pastry was already the key to his heart. it gets him to do anything.

“what a dilemma that is.” he shakes his head, fingers tangling through his curls that fall in front of his eyes, “just don’t forget your notebook and you’ll be fine. do you remember how to order?”

“un croissant š'il vous plaît.” a croissant please

“tu est parfaite.” you are perfect

—

his phone buzzes in his pocket, it hasn’t even been a full day since you landed in Paris and you’ve been buzzing him like a mad woman. it’s his first time being in your place alone, he’s in charge of watering your plants. he notices you’ve left him money for his croissants and an extra key in case he misplaces the one you already gave him.

“bonjour mon ami how is Paris?” he picks up the phone plopping down onto your cream colored sofa and pressing speaker so he can listen and eat.

“did you know j’ai un petit-ami is I have a boyfriend?! you lied to me!”

he laughs, the familiar sound spreads a smile on your face despite your angry tone, it’s nice to hear him. even if you’ve been texting him, his voice is what you miss right now, “I guess you’re right my people are assholes.”

“damn right, chalamet! and I learned a little something from the bartender last night, tu es un connard!” you are an asshole

“Je t'aime!”

#timothee x reader #timothee blurb #timothee chalamet #timothee fanfic #timothee imagine #timothee chamalet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet x you #Timothee chalamet x y/n #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee chalamet fluff #timothee chalamet fic #timothee chalamet fanfic #timothée chalamet #timothée x reader #timothée fanfic #timothee x you #timotheé chalamet #timothée x you

1K notes · View notes

twogyuu · 29 days

Text

an unfinished tale [prologue]

Pairing: Wonwoo x fem!reader

Synopsis: In an age absent of DMs and dating apps, a year you're not supposed to exist in, you defy all odds and manage to fall in love with the neighbor down the hall from your uncle's dorm. Part of you wishes he feels the same, part of you hopes he doesn't - for the sake of your heart and his.

Genre: Fluff, crack, smidgen of angst, first/last loves, time travel!au, 90s!au, college!au, uncle/roommate!chan, chan has a twin brother who is reader's dad LMAO, fairy godmother!seokmin; featuring friends!seungkwan, vernon, and jihoon too 💙

Warnings: Mentions of Haruki Murakami's Kafka on the Shore(?); references to the films, Past Lives and The Butterfly Effect

WC: ~1k

masterlist || next

Red thread.

Inyeon.

Butterfly effect.

These were only a few of the hundreds of concepts of “fate” out in the world. The idea of fate was fascinating, wasn’t it? Two souls predestined to be together despite the confines of space and circumstances. One way or another, you’d find your way to one another because the universe, or whatever higher being up there, willed it – your stories already penned into the endless constellations of the sky before you were born. The only thing left was for the pages to be turned, eyes lingering across each word like footsteps on an unscathed path.

The seamless flow of fate makes it natural to think that it only moved forward. Two people’s fate existed in the same timeline and moved in parallel before they crossed, tangled, and knotted.

What would happen if fate didn’t follow these unsaid, human-made rules?

What if fate transcended the confines of time?

. . . .

With the flick of his wrist, Wonwoo snaps his hardcover copy of Haruki Murakami’s Kafka On the Shore with one hand. The quiet clap of stacked pages is lost amidst the noise of the subway station during rush hour. Businesswomen clatter down the stairs in their heels, hands pressed on the side of their tight pencil skirts; it’s in contrast to the rubber soles of the sneakers worn by the teenagers who heave as they sprint and race one another across the platform to catch the last train before they are late to class. The soothing robotic voice overhead announces the incoming trains; every ten minutes, it is complemented by the warning to stay away from the rails for one’s safety.

With a heavy sigh, he tucks the red and black book into his satchel, the only question of why he took Kim Mingyu up on his recommendation to read Kafka on the Shore, polluting his mind. His friend had claimed it was award winning and vaguely added that it had an “interesting plot.” Mingyu hardly read, and if ever, he opted for mainstream books, like Me Before You – which took him four years to finish by the way.

Murakami’s work wasn’t boring per se, but magical realism isn’t really Wonwoo’s cup of tea. Perhaps others would say he lived his life boringly, but he preferred one or the other. Black and white – the right shade of gray was difficult to perfect.

Wonwoo is fortunate to have a later start time to work than most people. It gives him time to sleep in – or on the days he couldn’t, he could get up early and actually enjoy the leisure of his mornings. Workout checked off for the day, he could grab freshly brewed black coffee and perhaps a simple croissant straight from the oven from the bakery across the street from his loft, before settling on a bench in the subway. His activities ranged from doodling and reading to people watching while listening to music. Indeed, he is an introvert, but for that very reason, he finds solace in the anonymity of crowds during rush hour. In these moments, he didn’t matter and no one questioned him.

The familiar sound of the rusty metal wheels against the tracts down the strip screech through his AirPods as Wonwoo comes to a halt near the ledge. The last train swept away most of the morning crowd, leaving only him and a select few others loitering in the dreary, gray terminal. The train rushes past him in a blur, creating a wind that rustles his overgrown bangs; he could feel it skimming the rims of his glasses, some strands brushing across the top lashes of his eyes.

He waits for the cars to come to a halt, then the hissing of the doors sliding open to climb in. Though there were several empty seats, Wonwoo always opts to stand – there was enough sitting in a day.

One.

Two.

Three.

The overhead voice announces the next stop – the signal for the doors to come to a close and the train engineer to start the lever once more.

Wonwoo knows this routine like the back of his hand. There was no reason for him to expect it would change.

But it does.

It feels like time slowed, everything happening fast, yet slow, all at once. A young woman dressed in a lavender blazer, clinging onto her own work bag like her life depended on it, barrels towards the already closing doors. It narrows and she barely slips through; they snap close behind her, releasing air as the car rocks back, then forward as the train starts moving.

Without enough time to find a seat, she clings onto the same pole as Wonwoo to steady herself and keep the inertia from sending her sailing across the car too. She collects herself enough to stand tall, lifting her head to come face to face with Wonwoo.

The young man is awestruck. His jaw grows slack, lips parting, yet no words escape. Excitement courses through his body; his grip tightening around the stainless steel pole, turning his knuckles white and the sensation in his hands growing numb. His heart surges with an unfamiliar, yet seemingly nostalgic feeling. The soft acoustic music flowing from his AirPods grow faint; only the sound of his quickened heartbeat thrum, replacing the gentle plucking of chords.

The young woman is no less shocked – if not more. Her eyes well with tears, a half-hearted chuckle escaping her lightly painted lips before she presses them together and swallows harshly. Confliction flickers across her pretty features, her chin wobbling as she tries to maintain her composure and figure out what to do next.

“H-hi.”

“Hey.”

Silence, then a beat. The sounds of the wheels against the tracts roar throughout the train. They’re barely speaking in whispers this time, but they can hear one. It’s as if everyone else on the train evaporated and they’re transported back to the first time they met. Only the two of them, this close in the expanse of the wide and spacely car. The scenery outside blur and blend into an infinity of white. The train could be taking them to outer space for all they cared.

Where they were going didn’t matter.

If fate didn’t know distance, then what they had didn’t know time.

“Long-time, no see, stranger.”

#wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo angst #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios

218 notes · View notes