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#any woman i like is automatically too good for me
cakemagemaeve · 6 months
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Lately I've been thinking about how I'll be 38 in a month, and yet my one and only relationship was in high school and it lasted about a month. She cheated on me the entire time, but wouldn't even kiss me because she "didn't want to rush me." Six months afterwards, she invited me to her wedding to one of the people she'd been cheating on me with. No one's so much as asked me on a date since, not even when I was in college, buff, and active in the GSA. Every girl I've liked ended up in serious relationships before I got the nerve to ask any of them out. After my health started its major downturn around 2007-ish and my daily pain levels started to skyrocket, I pretty much gave up on looking for romance altogether.
It's not that I don't want to be in a relationship! I would very much love to have a girlfriend, and have even considered trying out a dating service or two, but like. I'm a chronically ill, autistic/ADHD/OCD/bipolar/etc. 38-year-old virgin nerd who lives with her parents and is usually too sick to leave the house more than a couple times a week. Even then it's usually just for doctor's visits and/or trips to the grocery store that sometimes take days for me to recover from! My social battery runs out quick and takes ages to recharge. I'm both touch-starved and touch-repulsed. My only income is my monthly disability payment of a whopping $609 USD plus whatever I can get from selling shit on eBay. My parents and I live in one of my grandfather's shitty old rental homes that he had built on the ultra-cheap and which is now kind of falling apart and smells of cats and the swamp.
Seriously, what could I possibly have to offer anyone? What sensible woman would waste her time on a pathetic gross loser like me? Frankly, I don't think I deserve to be in a relationship. It would be incredibly selfish of me to ask a woman to put up with all of my bullshit. I need to just accept that I'm going to die alone and that's okay.
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feelslikegold · 10 months
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pierregazly · 1 month
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but mama, i love him ꨄ oscar piastri smau
oscar piastri x leclerc!reader
the one where oscar's girlfriend has been soft launching their relationship for ages. and he's okay with it, especially if it means he can keep hiding in plain sight from her three overprotective brothers.
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ynleclerc
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tagged charles_leclerc
liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, oscarpiastri, and others
ynleclerc omg omg omg... charles leclerc signed my hat? should i add it to the shrine? give them something to sacrifice?
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username any non-f1 fan would automatically assume ynleclerc is a crazy fan page for charles
username or a charles leclerc hate page... all she does it make fun of her brothers here
username she's offering her signed hat for the tifosi to sacrifice for a CL16 win??? that seems like pure love all around
arthur_leclerc i also signed your hat?
ynleclerc i also do not care? will a hat signed by you get me millions if i sell it for sacrificial purposes?
charles_leclerc what's next? my personal belongings?
ynleclerc is that an offer? if so, oui. i will take what i think will make me the most money next time i'm there, merci <3
scuderiaferrari if it gets us a 1-2 finish, sacrifice everything ynleclerc... please 🙏
username being a Ferrari fan is so satisfying when you remember ynleclerc is an automatic inclusion in everything and anything charles does
username the things i would do to have her as a McLaren fan... she's too beautiful for Ferrari 😭
oscarpiastri a piastri hat will get you good money in straya btw
username oscar??
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oscarpiastri
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liked by logansargeant, landonorris, mclaren, and others
oscarpiastri 'stop hitting me with the ball on purpose you jerk' was said more times than it should've been, by someone who really just sucks at tennis. had an awesome week back home, time to get back to it 💪
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logansargeant no wonder you're so worried about getting run over
username the coordinating outfits?? i'm gonna scream, who is she!!!
username what does logan know, tell us your secrets girl logansargeant
username oscar is gonna soft launch this relationship until the end of time. show us her face, you coward!!
ynleclerc did you pay her for all the bruises that tennis ball left?? poor girl
oscarpiastri it's not my fault she's a terrible tennis player, we all know i've offered to pay for a trainer
landonorris so this is why you couldn't come to bali with me 🤨
username lando really said i'm the third wheel??
username to be fair i'd probably pick oscar's girlfriend over lando for a week away too
username girly you don't even know who she is!!! she could be the devil
username i wanna be included in oscar's post week home photo dump :(
ynleclerc has posted a story
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, pascale.leclerc.355, and others
replies
oscarpiastri you can call me pookie whenever you want if you're gonna post things like this
ynleclerc i'd call you pookie with or without your permission, mon amour
charles_leclerc who is this
charles_leclerc why won't you tell us who you're dating
charles_leclerc we won't hurt him
charles_leclerc answer my texts
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ynleclerc
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liked by oscarpiastri, pascale.leclerc.355, arthur_leclerc, and others
ynleclerc get you a man who can do both, luckiest woman in the world whenever you're around. mon amour 🤍
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username people involved in formula 1 and their obsession with soft launching everything NEEDS to be studied
username at least she posts her boyfriend and he isn't just a small figure in the background of every post (charles this is a direct hate comment)
arthur_leclerc this would have been very lovely if it weren't for the last photo
liked by charles_leclerc and lorenzotl
ynleclerc suppose it's a good thing you could easily ignore it. cheers :)
pascale.leclerc.355 trés belle, ma fille 💗
charles_leclerc maman?
username could you IMAGINE if ynleclerc told pascale but obviously hasn't told her brothers? i can FEEL the outrage
username starting to think this may be a driver, ynleclerc is at every race weekend and ALWAYS makes a post with her mystery man at some point during the week after...
username okay ms sleuth (i think it's lando)
username i'm like 65% sure it's oscar, and 35% positive it's someone that looks a lot like oscar
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ynleclerc
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tagged oscarpiastri
liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris, and others
ynleclerc someone exposed us on twitter, so i had to expose us on instagram 😮‍💨
comments on this post have been limited
oscarpiastri love you <3
oscarpiastri i will love you even when a ferrari has run me over, of course.
arthur_leclerc is this your way of telling me i was right, without texting me back?
charles_leclerc this must be a joke, non?
pascale.leclerc.355 so very excited to finally be able to invite the both of you for dinner. trés belle 🤍
charles_leclerc maman, you knew?
ynleclerc oscar and i will see you for sunday dinner, maman! <3
tresbelleleclercspam
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liked by logansargeant, charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, and others
ynleclerc live feed of oscar running away from charles in the paddock when he said he 'just wanted to talk, mate'
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charles_leclerc i truly just wanted to talk about the race
charles_leclerc i did not have a speech planned, non
arthur_leclerc i did have a speech planned
lorenzotl i just wanted to welcome him to the family, as a good big brother should
oscarpiastri my apple watch warned me of an overactive heart rate 5 times today. why did you do this to me. why couldn't you have three sisters???
ynleclerc so very sorry, in our next life i'll try to make sure you only have to worry about sisters and not three overprotective brothers
oscarpiastri as long as i get to spend every lifetime with you <3
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i actually got a request for something like this ages ago, and finally got around to finishing it. i so hope you all loved it as much as i loved writing it. thank you for all the support!!
i'm not currently taking requests, but if anyone has lil suggestions or prompts please feel free to send them.
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leaderwonim · 3 months
Text
WHAT’S YOUR ETA ?!
pairing. exbf’s best friend!heeseung x fem!reader
summary. although heeseung’s always believed in bro code, he can’t help but call you when he sees your boyfriend, park sunghoon, cheat on you with some girl at a party. don’t worry though, heeseung can prove he’s much better than sunghoon.
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“Hey! Y/N?” The voice of Lee Heeseung comes through your phone, his camera shaky and pointed at the ground which was covered in what you can only assume is confetti.
“Heeseung?” You say quietly, rubbing your eyes as you sat up from your bed. “Don’t you have a performance later?”
“I cannot believe this,” you recognize the voice of Park Jongseong, who recently became close friends with you after discovering you both liked cooking.
“Isn’t that your boyfriend?” Heeseung moves the camera view from the floor towards the pool of a house you don’t know, zooming into what looks like your boyfriend, Park Sunghoon, talking to another girl.
“Hurry up and get over to Lia’s house!” Jongseong says, eyebrows furrowed. “Oh my God—look at them.”
When the camera finally clears, you realize it’s Yuna standing next to your boyfriend, touching and grazing his arms while he smiles down at her.
Unable to handle it any longer, you practically jump up from the bed, running into your bathroom with your phone in hand.
“Hey, me and Jongseong have to perform,” Heeseung speaks up. “We’ll call you back!”
Heeseung hangs up the FaceTime, and you want to slam your head against your mirror when the sleepiness wears off and you let what you just saw sink into your brain.
“It’s always the girl that he tells you not to worry about,” you say grumpily, brushing your teeth so harshly that the toothbrush practically falls out of your mouth.
By the time Heeseung and Jongseong finish their performance, the crowd was cheering like crazy, but they were both too concerned as to where you were to care.
“Hey Hee!”
The voice of Park Sunghoon almost makes the two boys fall back first into the pool, but luckily Jongseong gripped the back of Heeseung’s shirt tightly so they wouldn’t trip.
“What’s up?” Heeseung chuckles nervously, eyes wandering around to see if Yuna was hanging around nearby.
He knew Park Sunghoon all too well to know that he was most likely going to take Yuna to his house after Lia’s party. Sunghoon was his best friend, but that doesn’t automatically mean Sunghoon was a good person.
“Your performance was killer, man.” Sunghoon pats Heeseung’s back, “you too Jongseong, the way you dance was just flawless.”
“Mhm.” Jongseong tries his best to smile at Sunghoon, which didn’t work because it looks like he was constipated.
“Okay.” Sunghoon awkwardly smiles, patting Heeseung’s back one more time before descending back into the crowd.
“What was that?” Heeseung says, laughing so hard he has to clutch his stomach. “Your eyes were twitching and you looked like you’re gonna poop!”
“Shut up!” Jongseong pushes the older boy back in annoyance. “I didn’t want to speak with that cheater, Y/N’s my friend.”
It was as if Jongseong’s mention of your name spawned you to the party because there you were, walking up to them with the angriest look a woman could have.
“Where is he?” You say, scanning the crowd with a glare.
“Whoa there,” Heeseung places both his hands on your shoulders, “do you really want to do this here? I don’t want Sunghoon to embarrass you.”
“Who says I’m going to end it?” You say, challenging the two boys who’s jaws practically drop to the ground.
“What? Cmon! He’s real bad Y/N, just end it.” Jongseong begs.
“He’s right,” Heeseung says, bambi eyes dosing down at you. “Don’t indulge him.”
“Promise me you’ll pop his tires with me if he embarrasses me?” You ask Jongseong, who automatically nods as he lets out a small giggle.
“Popping his tires and keying his car.”
“Okay,” you take a deep breath. “I’ll do it.”
You spot Park Sunghoon easily now, it wasn’t so hard when Shin Yuna was all up on him.
“Sunghoon!” You yell, which attracts the bystanders nearby. “You cheating bitch!”
Sunghoon’s expression quickly turns into panic, his face converted into a nervous fit of giggles that past you would’ve found endearing and cute.
“What on earth are you talking about?” He chuckles, grabbing your arm as he smiles at bystanders. “Can we not do this here?”
“Oh we’re doing this here.” You elbow him in the stomach, which works because he groans and loses the grip he had on your arm. “We’re done, over. I’ll mail your shit to you so I don’t have to see you ever again. And if you try to come back, I’ll make sure to have Heeseung beat your ass.”
Sunghoon’s eyebrows furrow and his expression darkens. “Heeseung? Why would my best friend beat my ass for you?”
“Oh, you don’t know?” You grin. “He was the one who told me you were cozying up with Shin Yuna you bastard!”
“Okay—that’s enough,” Yuna steps in, which only fuels your anger even more.
“You’re so lucky I don’t believe in violence.” You spit out at both of them in disgust.
“Oh please, you wouldn’t dare to hit me.”
“But I would.” Sunghoon has no time to react to Heeseung’s words because his face was already met with the older boy’s fist, making him collide with the floor.
“Holy shit!”
“Sunghoon!”
While Yuna’s busy helping Sunghoon off the ground, Jongseong grabs both you and Heeseung, running towards Lia’s backyard door.
“That was fucking amazing.” Jongseong breathes out. “You punched your best friend.”
“Yeah,” Heeseung sucks in a breath when he realizes it’s starting to bruise. “He’s definitely gonna kill me.”
“Not if I kill him first,” you mumble, carefully grabbing ahold of Heeseung’s hand. “We’re gonna need to bandage your hand. Come to my house.”
Jongseong watches with a smirk as you still hold onto Heeseung’s hand. He walks behind the two of you, happy that you were finally with someone better than Sunghoon.
“This has happened more than once, hasn’t it?” You say, frowning as you patted Heeseung’s bruising hand with ointment.
“I saw it before but you weren’t there,” Heeseung says, sucking in his breath. “I didn’t want to believe Sunghoon was cheating on you so I waited to see if he was gonna do it again. And he did.”
“What an asshole,” Jongseong adds in. “I’m gonna key his daddy’s money Mercedes Benz.”
The three of you laugh, the sadness of the situation wearing down slowly.
“Thanks for telling me Hee,” you say, finally making eye contact with him. “I know you guys were friends for a while.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do what’s right.” Heeseung sighs. “Remember when you couldn’t come to Jongseong’s birthday because he wanted you to help him with economics homework?”
Jongseong lets out a gasp. “Oh my gosh, now that Heeseung’s mentioned it, you did miss my birthday because of that fucker!”
“And remember when I got into trouble? He ditched me even though I’m the closest friend he has.” Heeseung chuckles bitterly. “Or when I got broken up with and Sunghoon told you not to comfort me because it wasn’t your place.”
“I now realize how much power he had over me,” you say, lips curving into the saddest frown Heeseung’s ever seen.
“Hey—it’s okay.” He reassures you. “You were being manipulated by him, it’s not your fault.”
“It’s really not!” Jongseong yells from the living room.
You two roll your eyes at his small commentary, and when you lock eyes again, Heeseung can’t help but break into a smile, admiring how beautiful you looked.
“You deserve better.” Heeseung says breathily.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” His eyes trail down to your lips before looking up at you with those brown bambi eyes again. “You deserve better like me.”
Heeseung doesn’t have to say it twice before you’re crashing your lips onto his, the shriek of Park Jongseong and a cup breaking goes unnoticed by the two of you.
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diordeer · 3 months
Text
౨ৎ HENRY, COME ON
“baby come on, do you think i’d really lose it on ya? if you did nothing wrong? henry come on,” - lana del rey (smau)
contains: charlie bushnell x songwriter!reader
description: i hope u guys know the lyrics has nothing to do with the plot of the fic i just love lana
requested by: anon 😧
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Liked by honeymoon, iamcharliebushnell and others
yn.ln thank you so so so much lana for letting me work on your album ‘lasso’, love u so much ❤️ p.s. go listen in september!
tagged honeymoon
user1 any song you work on i automatically love
↳ user2 REAL YN SEES THE VISION AND EMBODIES IT
honeymoon love u forever 😘
↳ yn.ln every time i have any contact with u i need to remember my life is real and i didnt make up even knowing u
user3 yn and lana del rey?! The dream!!
user4 i mean henry come on!!!
user5 lana going country is something i never knew i was missing but i am now feeling empty until september
dior.n.goodjohn A PURE TALENT !! 😍
↳ yn.ln umm says YOU?!?!
iamcharliebushnell u did amazing !! 🩷🩷 (as always)
↳ yn.ln 😘😘
↳ walker.scobell ew
user6 they look SOOO good omg
user7 us trying to zoom into the last photo to see the new songs
↳ user8 LMAO SAMEE
↳ yn.ln its too blurry you guys will never know 🤫 (until september obvi)
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Liked by honeymoon, dior.n.goodjohn and others
yn.ln life lately, greece edition!
tagged iamcharliebushnell
View all comments.
leahsavajeffries i see u went to my cafe 😍
↳ yn.ln always!
↳ iamcharliebushnell the coffee there was SOO GOOD
user1 charlie and yn together is so random but so perfect and everytime i remember they are together it makes my day
user2 mans GLOWING
user3 oh to be dating charlie on a holiday in greece
dior.n.goodjohn you guys are so cute. stop it.
↳ yn.ln never
walker.scobell i cant believe you guys didnt invite me with you to greece
↳ iamcharliebushnell its pre research for when i join Kronos 😊
↳ walker.scobell ok so now u ruined it
user4 the aesthetics 😍
user5 me patiently awaiting a new song or even better album from yn ☺️
↳ user6 girl stop exspecting yn to be working 24/7
↳ user5 ….there are song lyrics on the post?
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Liked by yn.ln, walker.scobell and others
iamcharliebushnell yn evenings photo dump 🫣
tagged yn.ln
View all comments.
user1 mans crazy for posting a paparazzi pic of him and yn
↳ user2 hes down BAD
yn.ln whos that cutie in the second photo 😧
↳ iamcharliebushnell he’s taken sorry
↳ yn.ln omg what a loyal man 🥰🥰
↳ iamcharliebushnell stop flirting with me i literally have a gf!
user3 THE WOMAN IN THE FIRST PIC LMAO
↳ walker.scobell shes a real one, they need to get a room!!
↳ iamcharliebushnell WOWWW WALKER
↳ leahsavajeffries im on his side!
user4 the way hes holding her?! stop this
user5 why is he wearing sunglasses in the dark 🤔
↳ yn.ln im actually an angel, so when you look at me in real life i burst into a lot of bright lights which is why you need to wear sunglasses around me
↳ dior.n.goodjohn true! not clickbait!
taglist: @lostinhisworld @lizziesfirstwife @auttumnsayshi @silkenthusiasts @taygrls @kidkrowk @kanojous @niktwazny303 @m00ng4z3r @highfidelities @b0ok-lover @vamplyle
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Text
I am so so so so so TIRED to see people fatshaming two perfectly healthy girls because they have round faces. It’s disgusting.
The actresses of Mai and Azula are on point for their roles. Hell, if they were chosen there must be a reason, it’s not like there’s no Asian actresses out there they could choose from.
People can’t accept that Azula can have a characterization beyond “crazy and sadist sicko”. She’s a perfectionist. She’s an asset to her father. She’s jealous of Zuko’s birthright and of how it might take what she has away. Those are things that OG Azula too had. The only difference is that we actually see it in season one and have a background on her, rather than writing it in a rant. And what has been added only makes her a more complex character, given the change in the family dynamic as well.
And Mai? The actress is talented, she delivers a good Mai, and does justice to the character. She’s 17 and at the beginning of her career, of course it won’t be perfect. She gets to grow. Thing is, you guys won’t let her, because a square jaw scares you so flipping bad that you feel the need to shame her for it.
Everyone is a body positivity advocate until a girl with a rounder face shape is cast as a character in a live action you are NOT forced to watch? Seriously?
I’ve seen so many people on the internet calling them all sort of names, fatshaming them, insulting their work without even focusing on the acting. And I’m like, what’s to fatshame there? Let me tell you: nothing.
If I have to put it through your thick head like this, so be it. Even though I hate talking about and comparing bodies.
This below is a picture of Azula’s actress.
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She has the face card, she has the jawline, and she has a fit, enviable body. And you still have the audacity to “fat-shame” her?
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These two pictures are in costume. Again, face card and an enviable body. She even has the expression for Azula. You see a girl with a rounder shape of face and will automatically go “no she’s too cute to be Azula!!” Dude. No. When she will actually deliver as the crazy girl we know, she will devour. She will, and you all will switch back because that’s what you are, slimy switchers.
And now, onto Mai’s actress, a very beautiful girl with talent and looks. She is literally so pretty, and you dare hate on her? You dare shame her for how she looks? From what I’ve heard she’s a minor, too, so this makes you 100000% more slimy and undeserving of any sympathy in my book.
This is her, this is the girl.
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She’s literally so pretty. Maybe she hasn’t got the same facial structure of Mai, but she delivered all her lines she had in the little screen time and with the discutibile scenes she was given. She was good. But you see a square jaw, a rounder shape of face, and are immediately triggered.
And you can’t even use the stupid argument of “she’s fat”, because this is literally her.
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A very normal, very healthy young woman. Not as skinny as OG Mai? So what? She’s still a fricking thin girl. Nowhere as “fat” as you haters make her to be.
I shouldn’t have to explain common sense and basic decency to grown adults, and yet here we are.
This is honestly so frustrating. In the year of 2024 you can’t possibly justify insulting girls like this, with no shame. It’s absolutely idiotic and shows very a big lack of brain cells. I see you, haters, behind your device, with your insecurities and shame for yourself, laughing at two girls who made it farther than you ever will. You can critique the acting once you’ve seen it in full potential. Until then, shut your tramp up. This is very small dick energy of you.
I don’t see why I should treat you with kindness when you are so eager to make this kind of jokes about pretty and in shape girls you are very obviously jealous of. Go touch some grass, incels.
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frantic-fiction · 2 months
Note
May I request some Jealous!Fem!Reader x Astarion? Maybe one where someone from Astarion’s past makes an appearance and while Astarion sees this woman as just a friend, reader can see the woman blatantly flirting with her vampire spawn and she doesn’t like it one bit. ESPECIALLY if Astarion’s oblivious to the woman’s advances and innocently engages (because let’s face it, our boy loves being praised & complimented 24/7). Reader decides it’s her turn to stake her claim on our little sassy vampire and remind everyone who he belongs to ;)
Yes! Yes! Thank you for the request!
Jealous
Astarion x gn!reader
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1.5k
Masterlist
It was nice being back in the city. Yes, there was still the ever-looming threat of the Absolute, but most of the party was back home, and for once, it felt like, for a moment, everyone could breathe. You had a fluffy bed to sleep on instead of a lumpy bedroll. And while Gale always made whatever perversions the party scavenged taste good, the warm, hearty tavern meals you've been treated to as of late were too good to beat.
But the best part of being back was taking any moment to drag Astarion out into the city to wherever he fancies so he can explore Baldur's Gate in the daylight without the darkness of Cazador. He wanted to visit the farmers market today, so you wandered the vendors' stalls, stopping to take moments and smell flowers and sample wares.
Astarion politely conversed with a tailor about the fabric quality used for a shirt he wanted. Frankly, they had been talking longer than your attention span could handle, so when your eyes wandered to a stall full of beaded jewelry, you wasted no time giving Astarion a quick peck on the cheek and telling him where you'd be.
The pieces were beautiful and skillfully crafted—brightly colored beads and gold inlays, gems of various minerals, all catching your eyes. The older halfling woman propped highly on the stool, greets you politely, and gives little details and facts about each one you set aside for closer inspection. Maybe you should get something for Shadowheart and Karlach? Probably not Lae—
"Astarion!"
A feminine voice has you snapping your head back to your partner. A frown instantly settles over your features when you see a tall, elven woman pull Astarion's hug. Her brown hair is intricately braided into a top knot decorated in sparkly chains. Her dress hugs her curves, framing her body perfectly.
Why are they still hugging?
"Oh Gods, it's been too long. You're looking amazing." Her nasal voice filters down the markets. "How are you, love?"
Astarion finally manages to break the hug, giving the woman an automatic flirtatious smile, the tailor long forgotten. "Eleanor, I've been well. I do hope the same can be said for you."
Dropping the beads with little care, you leave the stall, ignoring the halfling. You don't like this woman. You don't like how her hand still lingers on Astarion's forearm or how she leans ever so slightly closer as if daring him to kiss her.
"I've been fine, though I'm upset you haven't visited in quite a while. It's been rather dull without you." She runs her hand up his arm.
Astarion laughs, flicking his hand in the air and clearly enjoying the woman's words. "I could only imagine, my dear. Those brutes are fowl at their best. Who wouldn't miss me."
Your jaw clenches when her obnoxious laughter rings in the air. Pushing past a family of four throwing a half-ass apology, not paying mind, too pissed off. Who does this woman think she is putting her hands on Astarion as if he's hers?
"Astarion, you always knew how to make me laugh." Elenor ducks her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "If I'm being honest, I was always jealous of the ones you took home. But now that we're here, maybe…"
Oh, hell no! You practically jump the rest of the way and run into Astarion's arm. He lets out a breathy oof, arms tightening around your waist to keep you from tumbling to the ground. Pretending you weren't aware of the woman, you capture Astarion into a chaste kiss before beaming up at him.
"I hope you found what you were looking for, my love." Your voice is sickly sweet as you trail your thumb across his cheekbone. Then you turn your head and feign innocence, looking at the elf. "Oh, I'm sorry, Star. Who is this?"
Astarion gives you a look but recovers quickly. Clearing his throat, he speaks, "Darling, this is Eleanor. She owns a tavern I frequented. One of the only decent companies I've had before we met."
Moving away from Astarion's side, you reach your hand out in greeting, giving her your name, "It's a pleasure to meet a friend of my Star,"
Eleanor looks a bit taken aback, staring blankly at the two of you, clearly not expecting this change in her plans. You're internally preening. She takes your hand in a limp shake before dropping it and stepping back. Eleanor quickly wipes her hand on her dress slyly and chuckles.
"That explains why I haven't seen you in a while."
You sneer at her, wanting nothing more than to punch her. Instead, you drop your hand onto Astarion's chest, nuzzling warmly into his side. "Yes, sorry about that. I've been a bit selfish. Sometimes it hard to get out of bed."
"Right…" Eleanor says. Astarion, I never took you as one to settle down, especially someone as… unique as them."
"What is that supposed to mean?" The venom drips from your words, and Astarion has to keep you in place.
Eleanor smirks. "Oh, I meant nothing bad." The mocking tone alone reinforces that she meant this to be as insulting as possible. "I'm just stating you're rougher around the edges."
Astarion's hold on your waist tightens as you move to step forward, hand reaching for the dagger discreetly hidden against your thigh. There is no possible way this woman values Astarion in any way more than as a body to conquer. That thought alone has you practically baring your teeth.
"What the fuck does that mean!"
Astarion steps in before you can do anything extreme, "Eleanor, it was lovely seeing you again. We'll have to come and visit sometime for a drink, but I'm afraid my love and I must make our leave."
"Oh yes, of course!" Elenor says, her voice a bit too filled with fake cheer. Her smile is strained, and her eyes stare daggers into your skull. "I hope I can see you at the tavern sometime soon."
"Yes, we'll come down for a visit sometime soon. " Astarion calls over his shoulder, practically dragging you down the cobblestone. You think about ripping your arm out of his hold and turning back, but you let him pull you along with only a death glare sent toward Eleanor.
As soon as the two of you are in a secluded place, Astarion drops your hand and turns on you. "Darling, what was that?"
Picking at your nails, you shrug your shoulders. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Astarion takes your hand and, with a finger, tilts your chin to force you to meet his eyes. He has a shit-eating grin, and his fangs are even more prominent in his smile. "You were jealous."
Swatting his hands away, you step back. "I was not!" You lie and storm down the alleyway. You didn't get far before Astarion caught your wrist and spun you into his chest.
"You were jealous." He repeats. "But you really shouldn't be."
"She was all over you."
"It was a hug, my dear, from probably the closest normal friendship I had before the tadpole."
"Friendship? She was practically begging you to fuck her." You huff, fiddling with the lapels of Astarion's shirt.
Astarion chuckles deeply and presses a kiss to your forehead. "Gods, you're cute when you're jealous."
"Don't make fun of me, Astarion."
Ignoring you, he continues. "For argument's sake, if she was begging me to fuck her, as you so eloquently put it, who cares? I certainly don't, not when I have this beautiful, strong, incredibly understanding partner who knows all the darkest parts of me and still stands by my side?"
"Well, I am pretty noble for putting up with you when you're hungry." You smile, looping your arms around his neck, all jealousy draining from you like water from a colander.
"How could another soul handle me in that horrid state." Astarion runs his nose against yours. "I love you and don't plan on stopping soon."
You beam and kiss him breathlessly before mumbling, "I love you too," against his lips. "I think we should head back to our room."
Astarion chuckles under his breath, running his hands down the curve of your spine. "Oh, what for my sweet?"
"Well," Crawling your fingers up his chest, you press your lips to his ear and whisper. "If you'll let me, I want to mark every inch of your neck." "Mark me as yours, darling?" Astarion hums.
"Mhmm, we could go further, but" you continue. "Tonight, I want you to show me this tavern Eleanor owns. I think we deserve a date night."
"You are jealous."
"If I agree, will you take me out?" You lean in for a kiss.
Astarion presses forward, brushing his lips against yours. "As long as I have a necklace of your pretty love bites."
"Then yes, my love, I am very much jealous."
I've been struggling with inspiration lately. Moving was super stressful and I had to leave a hostile work environment very quickly so life's been a bit messy. But I've got my kitty cat and don't have to deal with a shitty boss so hopefully things will go up from here.
I'm kinda iffy on how I feel on this one but that might just be my current mindset. I hope you all enjoy it regardless, and stay tune because I plan on have something spicier posted soonish...possibly Astarion discovering his breeding kink 🫣❤️
Taglist: @heartfully10@ayselluna@marina-and-the-memes@anixson@canonicalchaoticneutral @toadsbitch @meulinkitten-blog @ambr4armr @lotusandcrystals @venussakura @synapticjive @skittleabyss@asterordinary@lariatbunny @whispering-depths@butchboi-chihuahua-slumlord@darkest-part-of-the-forest@queenofcarrotflowers-s@sessils @d20bunny@cherifrog@ophelia-ophelian@bgthree@darlingxdragon@mothynyx @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf@babyqnn @mmendez0124@kokoyu-art@lilah-asteria
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rimunagenius · 30 days
Text
Off Day
ʚ pairing: Kate Martin x Roommate!reader
ʚ word count: 2.6k words
ʚ warnings: RPF!! angst, creepy!stalker-ish!classmate, harassment, some fluff at the end
ʚ ri speaks: okay so i literally just dropped part one and the masterlist and right after i literally wrote this part! i literally pulled this series out of my ass last night…pardon my french. so i finished the masterlist and first part last night and so far, the feedback im getting is really good so…yay!☺️ anyways, this part is a little dark? but trustttt it will be resolved soon.
Part 2
| Series Masterlist |
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You desperately wanted to crawl back into bed, get back under the cool covers, and just lie there until the world ended. Or until Kate got home. Either way, you wanted to be anywhere but class.
Something about today was so off. You woke up and did your routine like any normal day. Kate left earlier than you but came back right before you left. You left her breakfast or lunch, whatever she decided to classify it as on the counter, and said you'd see her later at practice. That was 3 hours ago.
But today you had an exam in your anatomy class. This class was easy but you just did not want to be there because of Nick. Ever since a couple of days ago when you told Kate what went down between him and Gabbie, he's been relentless in getting the details of "your and Kate's relationship." You didn't want to tell him it wasn't Kate because you'd rather have to pretend to date her than anyone in California. Especially the girls you knew.
Something about Nick was off so you weren't going to pick a random girl in your following on Instagram. Knowing him, he'd probably stalk the poor woman. You just wanted to skip this class altogether. You hoped this line in the coffee shop on campus would move faster to possibly find a seat where other people could fill in around you before he could.
"Hey!" You turned your head, pulled one airpod out of your ear, and smiled at the brunette next to you. Her name was Juliana and you had class with her in like ten minutes.
"Oh, my god, hi!" You put the AirPod back in its case, abandoning the tranquility for the rest of whatever conversation was going to ensue.
"Not to be nosy or get in your business, and I really don't want to make you uncomfortable, but that guy over there keeps staring at you." She pointed her finger, subtly, in the direction behind her. You got to be fucken kidding…Nick. "He's been saying things to people in anatomy, saying you guys are talking, and how he doesn't like how you're too close to Kate. Or something like that, it's all unclear. But I found it weird and thought you should know." Her face looked genuinely concerned. Her eyes went soft as she looked at your expression change from friendly to somewhat terrified.
"Oh, my god. Thanks for telling me. I don't even know him. He's asked me out a couple of times but I rejected him. Who is he telling? Do a lot of people know?" You asked her. Your hands started to get clammy, as you started to move to the pick-up counter, your name being called; your drink ready.
"I honestly have no idea, but if anyone asks just tell them you're in a relationship." Juliana suggested, unsure of how to handle the whole situation.
"Yeah, I thought he'd leave me alone when my friend Gabbie had said I was seeing someone already. He automatically assumed it was my best friend Kate." You really thought this was behind you. This was probably the bad feeling you've been feeling all day.
"Oh, so you're not dating Kate?" Juliana asked, her face lightening up.
"No, but she said she was okay with going along with it to keep him away from me. Why? You like her?" You had no idea she swung that way. She usually talked about boy drama whenever you guys did group work in your class.
"Uh, no. But if she decides to start seeing someone and needs to drop the whole "fake girlfriend" thing, you can definitely ask me. I'm happy to help." She smiled warmly at you. You were very grateful for her willingness to help.
"Oh, okay. Thank you so much!" Her friend then called her over, and you both said goodbye. You had already made it to your class. Juliana keeping you company the whole way. You walked in and took a seat, pulling out your phone. You figured you could text Kate and let her know that if Juliana was willing to help, you'd relieve her of her duties. You also wanted to catch her up on what the hell went down in the coffee shop.
"you will not believe what just happened..."
almost instantly, her response bubble popped up.
"omg, what?"
"a friend in my anatomy class came up to me in better buzz and told me some guy was staring at me"
"what guy? are you okay?"
"and the guy was Nick!"
"oh..."
"apparently he's telling people me and him are talking but doesn't like how me and you are so close"
"wtf. are you serious?"
"did you tell her that me and u were together?"
"ab that...she said she would be down to be my "girlfriend" if I needed it. so I was thinking I would just tell ppl that me n her are together, so that way you're not dragged into this mess lol"
"Oh."
"okay for sure."
"I gtg. I'll see you later at practice!"
"alright, see you later. love you!"
" 'bear <3 loved "alright, see you later. love you!" "
Usually, she said it back. You, Kate, and all the girls got in the habit of saying 'love you' to one another because it was true. You all loved each other so dearly. None of you had shame in how you felt about one another and how close you held each other to your hearts. But you just decided to brush it off, she was probably just super busy. 
You honestly had no idea why your mind told you to read into everything she's been saying and texting you, lately. I was seriously getting unhealthy with how much you worried about what she thought about you. You were lost in thought before someone took a seat next to you. Assuming it was Juliana because she was just outside with her friends, you turned to tell her that if she was down to be your "girlfriend." You were pretty startled to see it wasn't her but Nick instead. 
"So, how have you been?" He asked. Something about him seemingly so off. You didn't like the feeling you got around him at all. You noticed his gaze following you out of the shop with Juliana ten minutes ago. You looked around the room, the spots in the class filling up quickly. You saw Juliana walk in, but before you could get her attention, Nick moved into your line of sight and prevented anyone from coming between you two. 
"Uh, good?" You looked down at your phone trying to find anything to keep you looking as uninterested as possible. 
"That's it? Nothing else to say to me?" He seemed to be growing more irritable with the short responses. 
"I don't know what you want me to say, I didn't want to talk to you anyway." You looked at him, wishing he'd go away. You didn't want to say it out loud and catch the attention of everyone around you. 
"Oh, now that's not nice. That's no way to talk to your boyfriend." He said, a weird smile encroaching on his lips. You did not like this at all. You were genuinely starting to get scared. You pulled up Juliana's number, thankful you asked for it last week so you could send her the notes she missed. 
"911. he's starting to really freak me out." 
You sent the message and immediately Nick asked who you had been texting. "Can you please, for the love of god, leave me alone? I'm seeing someone." The smirk on his face dropped, a cold stare being directed right at you. 
"No, you're not. You're seeing me." 
"No, she's not you creep. She's my girlfriend." Juliana then sat on the opposite side of you, staring Nick down. Nick's face flushed, his eyes looking at a few people who had turned around to see what was going on. She placed a hand on your leg.
It wasn't long after your exam and when the class was dismissed that Nick approached you again. He tried to talk to you, you just want to get straight to the Carver stadium. No students that weren't on the team or staff weren't allowed in. You just needed to get there as quickly as possible. 
"Hey! Stop ignoring me." Nick semi-shouted at you. You had put both airpods in, trying to tune him out. It wasn't until he tried to grab your arm and pull you back from walking away from him that you turned around ready to blow up before your saving grace came up to both of you. 
"Hey, man! Watch the fuck out. I don't know who you think you are but you are not gonna put your hands on my friend like that. Not like that, not now, and not ever." Hannah, with the hand she had placed on his arm to throw it off you, pushed him back a little before putting her arm around your shoulder and walking away from him. "That was fucking weird. You know that guy?" She looked back to see if he was still there, and indeed he was. Watching you both walk in the direction towards the arena. 
"No, actually. He's a fucking creep who asked me out a couple of times and took it horribly. He's been harassing me for a little. He was staring at me while I was getting coffee before my class like two hours ago." You said, calming down significantly since Hannah showed up. But your stomach was still uneasy and you really did not want to go to that class tomorrow or ever until he was gone and far away from Iowa City. 
"Yeah, don't walk around campus alone anymore. I'll come to find you after every—what class is this?" 
"Anatomy." 
"Okay, after every one of your anatomy classes, I'll come to find you and we can go to practice together. Do you have friends that know what classes you have and can walk you?" Now that you think about it, Juliana was in a lot of your classes. She wanted to do nursing so most classes you had in the week, were with her. 
"Yeah, funny story. The girl that's pretending to be my girlfriend to keep that guy away, which he obviously doesn't give a damn about, is in a lot of my classes. And it works out because the ones she's not in, Kate takes me because they're on her way." You smiled at the tall girl, grateful. 
"Okay, good. I don't want you getting stalked and possibly worse because of that guy. You should report him before it gets too bad." Hannah suggested, and rightfully so. 
"Yeah, I will. Thanks again, Hannah."
The girls' practice was going well. Until it wasn't. 
"Hey, you got a minute?" You were organizing gauze and wraps in the med bag behind the bench before you looked up and saw Kate holding her nose. 
"Yes, of course, Kate. Another one?" You looked at the girl as she walked around the bench and you handed her a towel. She broke her nose every year, you and Caitlin swore on it. You grabbed some gauze squares and put them in each nostril, to absorb as much blood as possible before you completely ruined the towel. 
"Don't tilt your head back. It could cause clots." You knew she already knew that with how prone Kate was to bloody noses. But it never hurts to refresh her mind, as it is instinct to stop the bleeding. 
"Yeah, thanks." You and Kate stood there while the bleeding stopped. "Alright, I think I'm good." She said a small smile on her face. You saw some blood on her shirt, grabbing the small bottle of peroxide in the bag, and a small gauze pad, you tried to soak as much of it out so it was easier for her when she did laundry. Suddenly your phone started buzzing. A new notification every second. 
"Jeez, who is blowing up your phone?" Kate asked, as she looked at your screen lighting up and watching the notifications pop up one by one.
"I don't know. Can you check?" You asked as you tried to get the last spot of blood off her clothes. 
"It's Instagram. Someone named Nick? Is it that same Nick guy Hannah said harassed the fuck out of you today?" She set your phone down. Your stomach immediately churning. You were honestly getting the creeps. 
"Oh my god. She told you?" You asked as you looked into Kate's eyes. Both of yours mirroring each other. The same worried look. 
"Yeah, and I'm glad she did. You need to say something. Or I can if you're not comfortable." Kate suggested. Now six more new notifications popped up, all from Nick. "I'll block him for you." She said, picking up your phone but stopping to look at you. Her eyes silently asking if that was okay with you.
"Yeah, please." You sighed as you threw the gauze squares away, putting the peroxide back before watching Kate block Nick. On your main and spam account. You have no idea how he found you; your name isn’t in the usernames. You really should go private and change your message settings. "Alright lemme check your nose though, to make sure it's not broken." There was absolutely no need to do this. You knew it was probably just a simple elbow or ball to the face. You both would've known if it was broken. 
"Alright." She sat on the bench, signature manspread. Good lord. You stood between her legs, putting pressure on different parts of her nose, checking for any indication of pain. It was a little tender but that was obvious, and so was you making an excuse to keep Kate a little longer. I mean, could she blame you? You haven't seen her much in the last couple of days. Late practices you missed for studying for your exam, her leaving earlier than you and by the time you get home she's either asleep or visiting her nephew. You missed your best friend.
You could see her looking at you as you checked. Your eyes meet once or twice, small giggles escaping your lips every time. Her eyes dropping to your lips occasionally, watching your tongue poke out a little as you focused on the task at hand. That made her giggle too. "Okay, bear. You're good." You kissed the top of her head and patted her shoulder before she stood up and ran back to the court. 
"If I roll my ankle, do I get a cute nickname and a kiss too?" Caitlin shouted as she pretended to throw herself on the ground. You laughed at her antics loudly before nodding your head and yelling yes. You laughed harder as she pretended to limp towards you. 
"Yeah, I'm gonna need like ten kisses to make this unbearable pain go away."  She fakes winced as she took a seat in the spot Kate was previously in, resting her "injured" foot on the chairs next to her. 
"Oh for sure, Cait." You laughed.
Suddenly, Sydney, Kylie, Jada, and Gabbie, hobbled over pretending to be injured to get their kisses too. "You need one too, Coach Bluder?" You shouted after you made your way through half the lineup. You made the assistant coaches laugh, including Coach herself. The practice was better after that, but you just couldn't shake the events from today off. 
Maybe another movie night with Kate would fix this. A lot of ice cream must be eaten tonight. Just one night, peaceful, and Nick free.
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nordschleifes · 4 months
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life is what happens to you
➝ the life of a mother is not simple but it does not surpass that of the mother of a child who, in theory, does not exist to the world
➝ word count: 5,8k
➝ warnings: mentions of smut, coparenting.
➝ author's note: let's just say the idea of a formula one driver having a secret son gave me ideas.
The doorbell made you jump from the couch, relief filling your chest. As you walked to the apartment door, the sound of laughter made you smile. Finally your heart was home. When you opened it, you found a man and a little boy standing in the doorway, both with huge smiles on their faces.
— Mamá! — the boy exclaimed, throwing himself into your arms as he laughed.
— Hi, my love — you replied, pressing a kiss to his brown hair — How are you? I missed you so much.
— I missed you too, mamá — he murmured, his head nestled against your sternum, his hands resting firmly on your back, as if he were trapping you between his arms. After what felt like an eternity away from him, you never wanted him to let go.
— How was your week? — you asked.
— It was good — the boy replied, turning his head toward the man behind him — I biked a lot, didn't I, papá?
You looked up into a pair of brown eyes that were similar to your son's. The man in front of you had a tender, soft expression. One of his hands gripped the handles of a carry-on bag that you’d packed, and the other was stuffed into the pocket of his dark jeans. He looked exactly the same as the night you had met a Richard Mille event, seven years earlier.
You had been working as a designer for the watch brand for a few years at that point, and had gained a reputation for creating some especially bold pieces. At that time, you were celebrating the launch of your newest creation, the RM 19-02, which featured the first automatic movement for the brand, featuring a magnolia flower that opened and closed as the internal mechanism moved.
Seeing people enchanted by your creation, praising the little details, felt incredible, but all of it became background noise when an incredibly well-dressed man stopped to look at the display. You had seen his face before, but you couldn’t recall his name.
— This is yours, right?
— What? — you asked, half confused by the vagueness of his question, half captivated by how smooth his accent was.
— The design. It’s yours?
— Yes, it's mine.
He smiled.
— I can tell.
— Why? — you said, raising an eyebrow at him.
— It's beautiful like you.
Before long, he had introduced himself as Fernando and that he was a longtime friend of Richard Mille himself. You had a feeling that he wasn’t just any ordinary guest at the party. As the two of you continued talking, he started talking about cars, but you’d long stopped paying attention. His lips were of much more interest to you than the words coming out of them.
Ending up in bed with Fernando felt inevitable. Later that night, you didn't care about the marks on your neck or the volume of your moans. You didn't care how tightly he held your hair or how your hips bumped against his. You didn't mind when he mumbled something about the condom, his words were all lost in the post-orgasm haze.
Three months later, you realized that maybe you should have cared a bit more.
Finding yourself calling Fernando and then showing up at the front door of his house in Lugano with a positive pregnancy test in your purse made you feel like you were in a bad serial drama. You were fully prepared for him to humiliate you and tell you that it couldn’t have been him, that he would have never gotten a woman pregnant on a one-night stand. A pit formed in your stomach as you braced yourself for the inevitable paternity lawsuit you would have to file. 
To your surprise, though, he didn’t take the news badly. He didn’t look angry or shocked, but contemplative. He asked you a few questions about birth control and the morning after, but when you told him that you’d forgotten to take the morning after pill in the blur of the hangover the next day, he sighed.
— Well, I guess we're going to have a baby, then.
Your mouth dropped open in shock.
— What…?
He looked at you, his gaze serious.
— You don't want to? I mean, don't you want to continue with the pregnancy? Of course, I'm not forcing you to do anything, if you don't want to continue, we can look at our options and, and I’ll help you pay for the procedure, of course… 
— No, no, I want to have this baby... In fact, legally I can't do anything at this point — you stuttered, shaking your head — I mean... Aren't you going to ask for any proof?
He knit his eyebrows together.
— Do you want me to take a paternity test to verify?
— No, not because I have any doubts, you were the only guy I had sex with in the last few months. It’s just — you said, letting out a nervous laugh — It’s just thought, I thought you’d react in a very different way.
— Different?
— I thought you would be pissed and that I’d have to leave here and find a lawyer — you said softly.
Fernando smiled, taking one of your hands.
— I always wanted to be a father. It’s not the most conventional way, but now that I have the chance, I won't waste it. You can count on me, Y/N.
He had been sincere in offering his support. It wasn’t just monetary, either; even from the first few doctors appointments, Fernando was nothing less than the best co-parent you could have asked for. He was sincere in his willingness to wade waist-deep into the world of pacifiers, dirty diapers, doctors’ appointments, and toys.
However, the joy of having him around didn’t come without a lot of sacrifice and sadness.
Before long, you realized that Fernando was incredibly famous, especially in Spain, his home country. Because of this, and his incredibly public persona as a Formula 1 driver, a lot of legal rules had to be established with regard to the baby. His best friend and business partner, Alberto, diligently drew up a document outlining a custody schedule, restrictions on posting any identifiable images of the child, a future move — paid for by Fernando — when the child came of school age, and an agreement not to disclose the child’s paternity. It was all to protect the privacy of you and your baby, Fernando said.
However, it was worth it, and still was, especially when you saw the sparkle in your son's brown eyes. He was named Leon Alberto Luis, after Fernando’s best friend and father. All the effort was worth it when it came to your little boy, the greatest love of your life.
— Yes, we biked a lot — Fernando replied, looking up at you after dropping your son's bag on the ground — We went all around Parco Ciani, didn't we, Leon?
The boy nodded excitedly.
— And what else did you do? — you asked, as you stroked his hair.
— We played football and papá ordered Japanese food for us...
— Calamari? — you asked, looking up at Fernando again.
— As always — he replied, putting his hands in his jeans pocket. Even after seven years the similarity between Leon and Fernando still caught you off guard. It wasn’t just the physical similarities, either, but their personalities were almost identical. They both were shy at first, but had a great sense of humor once they were comfortable with someone. Both of them were also incredibly witty, with intelligence and mischievousness in equal measure.
— That's good, my dear — you replied, kissing his head — Now, say goodbye to your father and go straight to the shower.
— Do I have to take a shower now? — the boy questioned.
— Yes, you do. I could smell the sweat as soon as the car pulled up.
— I told you she would smell it — Fernando said to your son, ruffling the boy's hair — Now come here, let me give you a kiss.
Leon walked over and hugged his father tightly, his face pressed against his belly. Bowing down a little, Fernando placed a kiss on the boy's forehead and murmured something in Spanish to him, who nodded his head.
— Don't forget to ask, okay, papá? — the boy said, toddling off to his room with his overnight bag. As you looked back up at Fernando, he seemed to have a sheepish look on his face.
— You have something to ask me? — you asked, giving a small smile.
— Yeah, you could say that — he murmured.
— And what would it be?
— I wanted to know if you could... Not that, it's... If you'd like to bring Leon to a race at the end of the month — Fernando stuttered, running a hand through his hair — You know, it's going to be my birthday on the weekend and … You know…
You clenched your jaw. It was a tense subject between the two of you.
The first and only time you took Leon to a race track was, in short, a disaster. It was at the end of 2018, when Fernando had decided to retire from Formula 1 to dedicate himself to other projects, and to spending more time with Leon. The last race would be special, and he wanted his entire family to be there, including you and his son.
However, the steps that Fernando and his team had taken so that you and Leon could enjoy the race in peace was all for naught when journalists began to speculate who the woman and child were who were accompanying the Alonso family around the paddock. In the end, the plan to watch the race from the McLaren garage went down the drain and you ended up hiding away in a small room inside the McLaren motorhome, trying to calm down a screaming four-year-old boy because he wanted to see his father on the track and not on a screen.
— Fernando…
— I know Abu Dhabi was a disaster, I know — he interrupted you — But it was stupid of me to take you to a place where I would be the center of attention, but this time it's different.
— Different how? As far as I know, your season has been brilliant.
The shadow of a smile appeared on his face.
— Are you watching it?
— Leon keeps me updated. He’s watched every single race. Six podiums in eight races, right? — you said, leaning against the doorframe. 
— That's right — Fernando said — The last few races weren't so good, but I believe we can recover, and having you and Leon at the track would be wonderful.
— That's why he told you to ask me, right?
He pursed his lips before letting out a heavy sigh.
— Yes, Y/N — he replied — But, like I said, this time it will be different. My parents and sister won't be there, so it will be easier for you to blend in with the rest of the team’s guests…
— Look, Fernando, I would really like to…
— I asked for normal credentials, without my name, so that you can enjoy the weekend — the driver continued — Please, Y/N, it will be so good to have you there with me, and on my birthday...
— Fernando…
— He even told me what he's going to wear, it's going to be that lime green Kimoa sweatshirt...
— Fernando! — you exclaimed, interrupting him — I know you love Leon, that you want him around but, as you said when I got pregnant, we have to protect him from the media circus.
— I know…
— So you understand that taking him to the middle of a paddock for a race is not the best way to do this, right? I know you both love Formula 1, but we can't risk his safety and privacy because of this.
— But I want him to watch me race…
— And he watches you, Fernando, every weekend. He loves watching you on television, he screams every time you make an overtake. But we have to face the reality of it, and you know that it’s too much of a risk to his safety and privacy. You know that more than anyone.
— I know, which is why I took so many extra steps this time — he replied, running a hand through his hair — Forget about it, okay? When I get back from Spa, let's see about doing something together, okay?
— As long as it's not on a go-karting track — you said, laughing a bit.
— I can't promise that — Fernando said, putting his hand back in his pocket — See you, Y/N.
— See you, Fernando — you replied, as he turned and headed towards the elevator. After a few seconds of staring at his back, you finally closed the door, letting out a long sigh.
It was hard to be the person who said no. However, it was often necessary to curb the impulses of both Leon and Fernando and bring a rational view of the situation to make decisions. Of course, you wanted them to have the most normal coexistence possible, to be able to do normal things that fathers and sons did, but, above everything else, you needed to protect him, even if it meant having to deny what would probably be an amazing experience for the boy.
— Are we going? — Leon's voice broke you out of your thoughts. You turned around to see him in the hallway, looking hopefully at you.
— What?
— Are we going with papá to the race?
— Leon…
— Come on, mamá, it'll be nice. I swear I will behave, I will stay only with you...
— My love, you know it's not just that. There are other things…
— Is it because of Andrea? — he asked.
You swallowed hard, feeling your shoulders tense. It wasn't like Fernando's love life was any of your business, after all, your romantic relationship with him never went beyond the night Leon was conceived. However, you couldn't help but feel a certain distrust every time he showed up in the paddock with a new girl on his arm.
His most recent girlfriend was Andrea, a journalist who covered Formula 1 for an Austrian broadcaster. Even though Leon thought she was kind, and loved playing with her dog, a yellow Labrador named Bodhi, you always felt uneasy in her presence. There was something in the way she looked at you that made you uncomfortable, as if she was studying you, trying to understand your relationship with Fernando and Leon, if there was something more.
— No, it has nothing to do with your father’s girlfriend…
— Papá said she's just his friend now.
— What? — you asked, confused.
— Bodhi wasn't at papá's house when I got there, so I asked where he was and papá told me that he went back to Austria with Andrea — the boy explained — I asked if he was going to Austria too, and papá said no, because he and Andrea are just friends now.
You couldn't help but notice that Leon looked a little upset. You knew he loved dogs, but the fact that you lived in a small apartment prevented you from having a big one, which were his favorites. It also didn't help that Fernando had plenty of space to have a big dog, but wasn’t home often enough to care for one. 
You brought a hand to your son’s face and stroked his cheek.
— You liked him, right?
— Bodhi was nice, mamá — he said — He was always happy to see me. Did you know he liked to lick my face?
You laughed, lifting the hair that fell over his forehead.
— And you loved letting him lick your face, didn't you?
— Yes — the boy said with a mischievous expression — I also liked playing ball with him and Andrea...
— Did he bring you the ball? — you tried to keep up the conversation, ignoring the mention of the woman.
— Yes, he would look for us and ask us to play. I always managed to throw it further than Andrea — Leon said, until his face lit up — Mamá, what if we go to the race and ask Andrea if we can visit Bodhi?
You paused, unsure of how to answer your son’s question.
— We’ll see, my love. Now, go take a shower.
With a hopeful smile on his face, the boy obeyed.
His smile was what made you want to kick yourself. Leaving the possibility of going to the race open was fueling the expectation that Leon had already cultivated within himself for a long time. Doing that just to break your son's heart made you feel like a terrible mother.
“Would it really be so bad if we went to a race?”, you thought as you dropped onto the sofa, looking at the photo on the end table. It was a photo of you and Fernando holding Leon when he was just a few months old, both of you looking at the boy with pure admiration and love. It was as if it was impossible to believe that you had been able to create something as beautiful and pure as Leon. It was precisely that innocence that you wanted to protect from the media monster that prowled the circuits, sniffing out stories and devouring its prey without mercy.
Leon couldn't become another victim. You wouldn’t let it happen.
Over the next few days, you managed to avoid talking about the race, dodging the question any time Leon asked. However, your efforts were in vain when Fernando made a video call with the boy, directly from his room in Budapest. He had no restrictions on seeing Leon, quite the opposite. There were very few days that Fernando didn’t speak to his son somehow. Most of the time it was through calls or text messages, and you were proud of them for managing to become close in spite of Fernando’s insane workload.
During the conversation about what Leon did during the week and in his football practices, your son asked the question you were most afraid of.
— Will I see you next week, papá? — Leon asked.
— Ah, well — Fernando stammered, his eyes seeming to search for your image on the phone screen — You know I'd like to see you, but it's your mom who decides that.
The boy turned to look at you, his face full of hope.
— Can we, mamá?
— Leon…
— Please, mamá, I'll behave, I promise!
You sighed. Something inside you told you that this wasn't a good idea, that it was too risky for his privacy. However, what kind of mother would you be preventing him from seeing his own father? What kind of mother would you be if you kept him trapped in a bubble? What kind of mother would you be to deny something so simple?
— Do you want to go see your papá race?
— Yes, mamá!
— Are you going to stay by my side the whole time and not talk to strangers?
— Yes.
— I mean it, don’t talk to anyone other than me, your papa, and your uncle Alberto. 
— I won't talk to any strangers, I promise, mamá — he said, while Fernando smiled on the device's screen.
— Then we can go, my love — you said to Leon, who immediately looked at the cell phone screen with a giant smile on his face.
— Papá, I'm going to the race! — he exclaimed.
On the other side of the call, Fernando laughed at the boy's excitement, but the way his dimples framed his smile indicated that he was overjoyed with the news.
— Yes, you are! And we’ll have that waffle filled with chocolate sauce I told you about instead of the birthday cake.
— With candles for us to blow out?
— Yes, we will find some candles to put in it, okay?
The boy talked about what he would like to take with him and whether he could sit in the car, which Fernando was happy to confirm. At the end of the call, he blew several kisses to his father, telling him he would see him in five days.
Those five days that seemed to pass in the blink of an eye.
On the private flight that Fernando had hired to take you and Leon to Belgium, you couldn’t help but feel restless. Even with all the assurances that you wouldn't have any problems, you couldn't reassure yourself. Terrible scenarios came to mind, unprompted, each one worse than the last. By the time the plane approached the small airport in the region, your anxiety had reached a fever pitch.
— Mamá? — Leon's voice bringing you to reality — Are we there yet?
— Not yet, my love — you replied, looking at him — There’s still a little bit left.
— Is papá going to pick us up at the airport? — your son asked, as you took off the hood of the sweatshirt he had chosen that morning to fix his hair.
— Yes, along with Alberto and Fabri. And we will go straight to the circuit.
The joy on Leon’s face when learning that information was only exceeded by the joy on his face when he saw Fernando waiting for him on the landing strip, a slight smile beneath the hood of his black Boss sweatshirt. The hug between the two made something warm fill your chest, and so did seeing them laughing and joking like any other father and son.
— Thank you for agreeing to come, Y/N — he said, as Leon pulled his father's credential from his sweatshirt pocket and showed it to Fabri.
— It's the least I can do, Fernando — you replied, crossing your arms — And, considering he's your biggest fan...
You both looked at Leon at the same time. The boy was questioning Alberto relentlessly, wanting to know where his credential was and if it was the same as Fernando's. When your eyes met again, you knew that your concern was more evident than you would have liked.
— Look, I — you started, only to be interrupted.
— I know you're scared, especially because of what happened in Abu Dhabi. But rest assured, nobody will bother you.
— Are you sure? — you asked.
— Absolutely — Fernando said, before being interrupted by his son clinging to his arm.
— Let's go, papá! — Leon exclaimed, anxiously — I want to see the track!
The trip to the track was fairly short, with Leon excitedly talking about playing games on the Nintendo Switch in his backpack. 
At the entrance to the paddock, you decided to separate, in order to avoid unnecessary attention. Giving Fernando one last kiss, Leon made him promise that they would meet inside so he could show him the car.
— Your passes are inside — Alberto said, handing you an envelope — I'll send you a message when Fer is free, ok?
— Perfect — you replied, before getting out of the car with Leon, as he waved to his father one last time before Fernando disappeared through the turnstiles. 
The last time you’d come to a race, the paddock was incredibly crowded, but the fact that this was not the final race of the season and the weather was cold and dreary seemed to be keeping the crowds down.
— Where is everybody? — Leon asked you softly, gripping the pass around his neck.
— Well, there's nothing on the track today, so there aren't many people around here — you said  — Which means we can make the most of it.
The boy nodded, holding your hand as you both walked past the rows of paddock buildings. However, when you were passing the structure set up by Red Bull Racing, you felt your phone vibrate in your purse. You let go of Leon’s hand to paw through the contents of your purse in search of your phone. 
— Where, where… Here! — you said, as you unlocked the screen and saw that the call had gone to your voicemail.
However, that became a secondary concern when you realized Leon had run off somewhere. You felt your heart pounding as you started looking for the boy’s brown curls and gray coat. You had only let go of his hand for a second…
— Leon, Leon, my God, Leon — you stammered, about to scold him for not staying by your side even though he promised to do so on the phone call with his father...
— Mamá! — you heard Leon calling out — Here, mamá!
You turned around and found the boy waving at you a few feet in front of you. He was next to a woman wearing a pink coat and her hair in a ponytail, who was sitting on a bench. You walked toward him briskly, your words for him dying on the tip of your tongue when you realized who he was standing next to.
— My love, why…
— Remember I said I was going to talk to Andrea about Bodhi?
You blinked, looking up at Andrea, who had an embarrassed smile on her face and a cup of coffee in her hand.
— Good morning, Y/N — Andrea said softly.
— Good morning, Andrea — you replied, trying to mask your apprehension — I hope Leon isn't bothering you.
— No, never. Leon was just asking me about Bodhi…
— Can we go visit him, Andrea? — the boy asked, expectation shining in his eyes. Placing a hand on your son's shoulder, you were thinking about the best way to say that it wouldn't be possible to go to Austria to visit a dog when the woman gave a warm smile.
— Of course, I can talk to your father and we'll see a day for you to go play with Bodhi — Andrea said, looking up at you. As if she sensed your hesitation in the air, she added quickly — If your mother agrees, of course.
— Let's see, maybe during your school vacations, right, my love? — you replied, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder, forcing a smile.
— Yes!
— Perfect. Now let’s go, we have a long day ahead of us and so does Andrea — you said, looking at the journalist with the hope that she would follow your lead.
— Yes, media day is always busy for me — she said, smiling — See you later, Leon.
The boy waved goodbye to Andrea and allowed himself to be led toward the Aston Martin motorhome as you gripped his hand extra firmly. During that short journey, you tried to focus on your own breathing and not on the anxiety that took over your chest and made your stomach turn.
— Mamá…
— Not now, Leon — you replied, trying to remember what color the facilities of the team Fernando was racing for that season were.
— Mamá, you're crushing my hand — your son protested, making you stop suddenly and bend down in front of him.
— Why did you do that?
— What?
— Why did you leave my side?
— Because I saw Andrea and you said we could talk to her...
You let out a long sigh.
— My love, you said you wouldn’t leave my side, remember?
— She wasn’t far from us…
— I know, but you can't run off alone here — you said, placing a hand on the boy's face — Imagine if it were a day with more people, how would I find you? You know that I love you more than anything and that losing you would be the worst thing in the world for me.
Leon pursed his lips, looking upset about what had happened.
— Sorry, mamá — he murmured.
— It’s okay, my love — you replied — Now let's go to the motorhome.
The rest of the day was divided between watching the activity around the track and catching glimpses of Fernando as he circulated around the paddock giving interviews, checking the car's assembly and meeting with the engineers. The highlight of the day was the trip to the garage with Alberto, who introduced you and Leon to the mechanics and allowed Mikey, their leader, to explain the car to the boy.
— Can I get in? — he asked with his eyes shining.
The red-haired man looked at Alberto, who gave a positive nod.
— Of course you can — Mikey replied.
With Leon settled in Fernando's seat and with his hands on the steering wheel that had been positioned just in front of him, the boy seemed completely ecstatic. It felt like he was finally in the right place, where he should have been all along. It was no wonder his grandfather, Luis, was so insistent that they consider getting him into karting as soon as he was old enough.
— You can't see anything from here — he said, looking at you. The mechanics working on Alonso’s car chuckled.
— The drivers are a little taller, so they can see the track — Alberto explained — But, when you're a little older, you’ll be able to see just fine.
Leon smiled, before looking ahead again and pressing his fingers on the steering wheel. It was impossible not to notice how much he looked like the pictures you’d seen of Fernando as a child, so much so that you made a point of taking a picture of him to show Fernando at dinner later.
However, you didn't have that opportunity.
Leon was already lying in bed, watching a cartoon on Netflix. Despite what you had agreed on, Fernando hadn’t been able to leave his meeting with his engineers in time to have dinner with you. His message fell like a bomb on his son's mood, and he barely touched the ice cream that Alberto had offered to share with him. 
— Mamá?
— Yes, my love?
— Is papá coming?
You swallowed hard. The last message you had received from him stated that he was leaving the circuit, and it had been right after you arrived at the hotel suite. At that point, you had no idea when or if he would hit there, especially after that day.
— I don't know, my love — you said, running your hand through his hair — You know that this is still papá's job and he's very dedicated...
— But didn't he say when he's coming? — the boy questioned.
— He texted — you started, only to hear the sound of two knocks on the door. Looking back at Leon, you found his excited expression — Wait here.
You got up from the bed and went to the entrance of the room, feeling relief take over your chest when you saw that it was Fernando.
— Can I come in? — he asked softly, running a hand through his hair.
You nodded and stepped aside so he could come in. Smiling, the driver walked by you, kissing you on the cheek as he passed, before walking over to the bed. Leon had an enormous smile on his face. 
— Papá! — he exclaimed, as Fernado lifted him up into an enormous hug.
— Hola, mijo. I came as soon as I could. Did you have fun today?
— Yes!
— What did you do? Tell me everything.
— Yes, it was really cool. Mamá and I stayed with Melina in the morning and she showed us everything inside. She even got us waffles!
— Does that mean you got the waffles? I always ask them, but they always say they don't have any waffles — the driver said, as you walked around the bed and sat on the other side of Leon — I think I'm going to have a serious talk with them.
— Maybe the waffles are just for the VIP guests, right, my love? — you suggested with a wink, which made your son laugh.
— Yes, only for special guests!
— But I'm their driver! — Fernando exclaimed, in mock indignation — I deserve waffles too!
— Don't you have a weight to keep, Fernando? — you asked.
— Yes, but that doesn't mean I can't eat waffles, especially with my son — he replied, before pouting — But I don't think he likes eating waffles with me...
Almost immediately, the boy laughed.
— I like eating waffles with you, papá…
— You mean we can eat waffles together?
— Yes! — Leon exclaimed.
— With chocolate sauce or honey?
— Hm — the boy thought for a few seconds — Mamá, could it be chocolate?
— Don't you think you ate too much chocolate today?
Leon looked away from Fernando, looking embarrassed.
— It wasn't that much...
— Yes, it was. And I have a photo to prove it.
— You do? — Fernando asked, raising himself on one elbow.
— Yes, I do — you replied, taking the phone that was on the bedside table. A few taps later, the plate of waffles was on the screen in front of Fernando, who seemed somewhat impressed.
— Did you eat all of that? — he asked looking at Leon.
— Yes, every last bit  — you replied — He didn't give me any.
The driver laughed.
— I can imagine the sugar rush you had afterwards…
The conversation between you continued for some time, until Leon began to slowly close his eyes while his father stroked his hair. It wasn't long before he was fast asleep, with his face against Fernando's chest and one of his arms resting on his waist in a hug.
— Y/N? — Fernando asked softly.
— Yeah?
— Was Leon very upset that I couldn't have dinner with you?
You pursed your lips.
— Well, a little. He was really looking forward to seeing you and telling you everything but…
He snorted, looking at the boy.
— I didn't want to stay late — Fernando murmured — But tomorrow there's only one practice session before qualifying for Sunday, so I couldn't avoid it...
— He knows that — you said — I told you that, as much as it's fun, it's still your job and you're very dedicated to it. And you can't win if you don't dedicate yourself, so we have to understand and support you, even if it means you're far from us.
The driver looked up at you, his expression completely unreadable.
— Do you think I'm dedicated?
— That's a stupid question, Fernando.
— I just want to know your opinion — he smiled.
You rolled your eyes.
— Yes, I think you are dedicated and I admire you for that.
— You admire me, huh? — the driver asked in a suggestive tone.
— Professionally speaking — you said, the emphasis in your words causing a giggle to escape his lips.
— I also admire you a lot, Y/N.
— Professionally speaking?
— Personally speaking.
You stared at him in silence for a few seconds, trying to read between the lines of his words. However, the smile on his face made you completely lose your train of thought. It always did.
— Well, thank you — you managed to say, before your eyes found the face of his watch, which indicated that it was already past 11 o'clock at night — But I think it's past your bedtime
— No problem, I can stay a little longer…
— I'd like to rest, since I've had to deal with your son all afternoon.
Fernando laughed.
— He's also your son, in fact, he has a lot of you in him — he said, as he carefully got up from the bed, placing Leon's arm close to his body.
— I know that. But I prefer to highlight your participation so you can understand why I need a good night's sleep.
— And you will have it, I'm sure — Fernando replied, before heading towards the door of your suite. However, before leaving, he turned and smiled at you — Good night, Y/N. See you tomorrow.
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ponderingmoonlight · 6 months
Text
Gojo teasing the heck out of you after realizing you get flustered by his eyes
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Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader
Word Count: 1,3k
Synopsis: After working with smooth operator Gojo Satoru for years, he slowly but surely began to realize what your true weakness is: his bright blue orbs. And he wouldn't be Satoru Gojo if he wouldn't use that against you...
Warnings: none really, language maybe. Shout out to the anon who requested this! I know I already posted it yesterday, but my Tumblr completely broke down at some point and I had to write support multiple times so this got lost in translation somehow...Hope you still enjoy <3
Tag List: @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @dazaisdick @sanicsmut @arehzhera @mynahx3 (if you wanna get added to my permanent tag list leave a comment to let me know)
Urgh, why does this man have to look so shamelessly good? Your eyes dart towards him when his skilled fingers are about to take his blindfold off. You truly hate Satoru Gojo and the way he carries himself with so much self-consciousness. Yes, Satoru Gojo is one of those men who know exactly how good they look and how to use this power over weak people.
Weak people like yourself.
You aren’t even able to realize how blatantly you stare at him before his eyes meet yours, cheeky grin plastered on his face.
“Enjoying the view, (y/n)?”
Oh, how much he loves the blush that immediately turns your cheeks red, whole face screwed up in pure embarrassment. You’re like an open book, so easy to read that he just can’t help himself. Over the last months of working together with you as teachers at Jujutsu High, he slowly but surely began to realize the power he has over you. How your gaze always wanders towards him, eyeing him up and down. How you seem to automatically walk his direction without even noticing. Yes, it is clear to everyone else that you are attracted to him.
And you are miserable at hiding it.
“Don’t be ridiculous”, you huff, shielding your eyes from his intense orbs.
Fuck, he caught you staring again. You swore to yourself to stop this madness. Yes, you are a grown woman, a truly skilled teacher at Jujutsu High. Seeing a good-looking man shouldn’t leave you all flustered. What about Kento Nanami, Suguru Geto? Why are you able to act professional around all these ridiculous gorgeous men?
Because they don’t have those eyes.
Oh, those striking blue orbs that seem to hold the entire oceans of earth, the eyes that shine like diamonds in sunlight. As soon as you catch a glimpse of him without his blindfold or even better sunglasses you are completely doomed.
And he knows. Satoru Gojo definitely knows. And that’s exactly why he uses every little bit against you whenever possible.
“You’re staring again”, he purrs.
You shake your head vehemently. Stop this madness, you are too old to act like that! With a swift motion you turn on your heels, walking away from him as fast as possible while sweat runs down your forehead. Why the hell did he have to catch you again? How embarrassing, why do you have to act like a horny teenager? Satoru Gojo is nothing more than a beautiful man with way too much charm. What is so special about him?
“You’re walking the wrong way. Your students are waiting over there.”
You stop in your tracks. Please, let the ground break open and swallow you whole.
“Screw you”, you hiss under your breath.
-at training-
“You’re doing quite well today, (y/n). I’m impressed.”
You swing around elegantly, avoiding his attacks under any condition. You narrow your eyes over his dumb comment, gazing at him just long enough to witness how he’s taking his blindfold off.
Oh.
What a gorgeous man. That bright blue orbs that elevate the delicate features of his face so well, how they seem to match the sky above so perfectly. Satoru’s eyes surely have something no men else has. Is it charm, is it the infinite power he holds in those eyes? You can’t put a finger on it.
In fact, you aren’t even able to react when he sweeps you off your feel, back clashing against the hard floor underneath.
Ouch. You groan in annoyance, gazing up at him in distress. This…this was on purpose. That fucking asshole.
“You have some nerve”, you hiss through gritted teeth, face going completely red in the split of a second.
You look so lovely to his feet, whole face screwed up in anger while a wave of embarrassment rolls over you without mercy. Yes, he caught you staring again. Why does it have to be so damn amusing to mess with you? But there’s something else…
Sure, he messes with Utahime and his students all the time just for the fun of it. Something about you is different, though. Yes, it’s not exclusively about laughing his ass off. He likes the way you blush under his gaze, how you react when he looks at you with his bare face. The way you aren’t able to control your emotions at all pulls on his heart strings in a way it shouldn’t.
“Need a hand?” he questions, stretching out his hand in front of you.
“Leave me alone”, you bark at him, smacking his arm away while standing up.
When will this madness finally end? Why can’t you just pull yourself together? You know Satoru Gojo for many years by now, you fought on his side so many times that you lost count. Why? Why on earth are you still not able to contain yourself? Why do you have to get all flustered when this jerk bats his eyelashes at you?
“It’s quite cute to be honest.”
“What?”, you mumble, turning away from his intense stare.
“The way I make your knees go weak just by taking my sunglasses or blindfold off.”
You swirl around, rage running through your veins. Did he really say that out loud? God, please let lighting hit and kill you right on the spot. Why…why did he have to say it like that? Your face feels hot like a thousand fires, it seems like you forgot how to talk.
“What, cat got your tongue (y/n)?”
He sneaks up on you, step by step nearer. Oh god, you feel like fainting. What the hell is happening here? Your heart almost beats out of your chest, eyes completely locked with his intense gaze.
“T-that’s…not true”, you stutter.
Within all the years you knew Satoru Gojo, it was never more than an innocent crush, never more than him teasing the heck out of you. But now he lingers above you, heat of his body so near that it feels like you’re burning alive. No, you never allowed your mind to wander this far, to imagine him this close. But now…
“Are you sure about that? Your body tells me differently. For example, the way your cheeks burn up…”
His fingertips brush against your cheek, gently caressing it.
“Or how your whole body trembles…”
He lets his other hand glide over your shivering arm.
“Oh, and the way your breath got stuck in your throat. What’s wrong, (y/n)? Did you forget how to breathe?”
His face draws closer, only inches away until…
You let out your shaky breath. He suddenly stops, only inches away from the heat of your lips.
“See, I told you I make you weak”, he purrs.
Oh god, lord have mercy. What are you supposed to do now? It seems like your mind went completely numbed, glossy eyes staring at him wide open. He is so close that you can smell him, so close that you can literally feel him. This isn’t about his eyes anymore, it’s about him. Satoru Gojo and the goddamn power he has over you, how you fold just by one glance of him.
“Well, I need to get going now. See ya, (y/n)!”
As fast as this sweet moment approached he is gone in the wind, already on his way back to Jujutsu High. You stay behind, glancing at his back completely bamboozled.
That asshole. He only played with you.
“I fucking hate you Satoru!”, you shout, running after him with your fist flying through the air.
“Nice try”, he comments, catching your hand mid-air.
“But I meant what I said, you really are cute. It’s just that I have a meeting in…oh, 30 minutes ago. Bye (y/n).”
With one last glimpse into his ocean blue eyes he’s gone. That jerk who sweeps you off your feet with his orbs only, the man that makes you feel like a child again.
You sign to yourself. Wow, you really are weak.
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trblsvt · 1 year
Text
the regular | jeon wonwoo
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summary | wonwoo couldn't really recommend anything at the bakery he worked at, he couldn't even handle going in a couple days a week. that is until he found his new favorite customer. genre | fluff, bakery!au, college!au warnings | none, i think let me know! word count | 1.6k words pairing | jeon wonwoo x gn!reader min | lowercase intended another request from @i-luvsang making me lose my mind out here....
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dread. that's all wonwoo felt. he was honestly so sick and tired of the smell of baked goods. crazy, right? well, you try and work around all that food and not get sick of it.
sometimes it felt like he had a permeant scowl on his face whenever he clocked in with kihyun, the baker and owner. he wasn't sure why he was always so... displeased when he came to work. it was better than working at the work-study program his college provided and paid better too. yet, wonwoo hated smiling at rude customers when they demand he make them a new sourdough loaf because the one in the case looked "stale."
there was nothing "stale" about the loaf.
it was made that morning. like everything else made in the bakery.
and he wasn't even the baker.
today was no different. he clocked in, greeted the kihyun, swept the floor, took down the chairs, flipped the open sign, and sat down behind the register. he pulled out the book he hid under the counter and rested it in his lap. the sun began to peek over the buildings across from the bakery, and he knew he wouldn't be able to keep the book open for too long.
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the morning rush went by like it usually did. the pleasant regulars looking for their bagels, the rude customers who didn't realize it wasn't a breakfast place with eggs, and the silent ones who never looked up from their phones to greet wonwoo.
"what would you suggest?" asked a young woman. wonwoo glanced between her and the case. "well, i think our sourdough makes great toast and grilled cheese sandwiches," he half-heartedly suggested. it wasn't a lie, but who knows maybe the baker changed the recipe and it tasted different. he wouldn't know, it had been months since he had the sourdough.
to be completely honest, he hadn't tried any of the goods for a while. when he first started working at the bakery, he ate there all the time. it was free and good, so he took advantage of his employee privileges. over time, he grew tired of everything and he couldn't bring it to himself to stomach any of it. that's what he gets for working in food service. "thanks! i'll get that then," she smiled.
"no problem, that'll be five dollars. i'll get that wrapped up for you," he said taking the cash and sliding off his stool to take out a loaf from the case. when he bent over and reached into the clear case he looked around the store through the glass. he liked doing this, it made him feel like a fish in a fishbowl.
then he saw you. he froze still inside the case. you looked around the cozy bake shop with a bag over your shoulder. your eyes scanned the store and then the case. you found wonwoo's eyes and he was snapped away from his trance. he blinked with panic and pulled himself from the case, bumping his head on the edge on his way up. he slipped the loaf into a bag and handed it to the woman. "thank you, i hope you enjoy," he said automatically. she smiled and walked off.
you were next in line.
"hi," he greeted.
"hi, is your head okay?" you asked motioning to the glass case. shit, you noticed. his hand flew up to the back of his head, "yeah, i'm all good. it happens more than you'd think." you giggled and looked around the case. "um, can i have three of those raspberry macarons?" he looked over at the neat stack of macarons and nodded. "that'll be eight dollars," he said and went to pack up the macarons in a small box.
"are those any good?" you asked casually as you pulled out your card to pay.
"um, yeah, i think so," he shrugged.
"think so as in your opinion, or you think so like you can't remember if they're good or not?"
"is both an acceptable answer?" he asked, passing the box over to you after your receipt began to print. you raised an eyebrow at him. "possibly. have a nice day..."
"wonwoo," he finished. "my name is wonwoo."
"wonwoo. have a nice day, wonwoo. i'm ___."
"nice to meet you, ___." with that, you smiled and left, and he addressed the next patron.
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his shift finally ended and he took a quick look at what was left over. some bread he would bring home, a couple cookies, and exactly three raspberry macarons. he stared at the lined-up pastries and reached into the case to try one. it had been weeks, maybe months since he had burned out on baked goods.
raspberry macarons, hm, he never thought someone would go for those.
but when he tried it, he understood. it wasn't too sweet, but it was fresh and it melted in his mouth. maybe you would come back the next day for more.
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"wonwoo, what are you doing here?" kihyun asked wiping his hands on his apron. "i didn't have you scheduled for today."
"oh, well, i, um, i just wanted to help out some," wonwoo offered.
"i'm always grateful for help, but you know thursdays are notoriously slow. shouldn't you be off doing college-kid things?"
"yeah, i guess. i just need some extra cash. did you make anymore raspberry macarons?"
"i did. you ask me that every day. i didn't realize people were actually buying them until a couple weeks ago."
"well, thank my amazing marketing skills," wonwoo jested.
after that day, wonwoo realized you came to the bakery every day like clockwork. he would get your coffee and macarons ready even before you would walk through the door. today, instead of your usual greeting you quizzed him, "what if i decided i didn't want raspberry macarons?"
"oh, do you not want these? i can get you something else. wow, it was silly of me to assume-"
"wonwoo, it was a hypothetical. it's kind of cute that you know my order."
he froze. cute? he was cute. you thought he was cute.
this was another win for the books.
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the last win was when you noticed what he was reading and offered up some of your own recommendations. the two of you even talked about exchanging books at some point. "well, if you run out books to trade what should i do?" he had asked.
"um, well, i can recommend you some of these pastries and you can recommend me books," you shrugged.
"isn't recommending goods my job?"
"not when you haven't even eaten any of the goods for months!"
"well you only eat macarons!"
he hoped he would continue to have wins like that or another win when he actually worked up the nerve to ask you out.
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you also started sitting at one of the small tables in the corner of the bakery to eat your macarons. it was a slow day, so wonwoo came out from behind the counter to chat. "are you sure, i'm not bothering you?" you asked, glancing around the practically empty bakery.
"oh no, it's fine. i like talking to you, it makes my shift more tolerable," he said. wait, he wasn't supposed to say that. not yet at least. "really? you like talking with me?" you giggled.
"yes! i mean, yeah. of course i do. you're funny, and smart, and actually really pretty," he paused. "wait, i don't think i was supposed to say all that to you." you smiled at him and took a sip of your coffee. you glanced out the window.
wonwoo had approximately five seconds to compose himself. he never acted like this, it was so out of character to be so flustered around someone he liked. he felt like he was on the playground in middle school and a girl came up to kiss him on the cheek as a dare. he was blushing for days.
"look, ___, i'm sorry if i made you uncomfortable, but ever since you started coming here, i've just wanted to see you again. i've picked up more shifts just so i can talk to you," he admitted, rushed. you looked back at him. he couldn't read the look on your face, but what he wasn't expecting was for you to grab his hand and wrap it in yours. "i'm flattered, wonwoo. to be completely honest, i started coming here every day in hopes of seeing you too," you smiled. god, he could kiss you right now. "wow, oh my god, i've been wanting to tell you this since i met you," he breathed for what felt like the first time in a couple minutes. "can i take you out on a date sometime? soon, preferably."
"yes. give me your phone, i'll put my number in it." he reached into his pocket for his phone when a woman and her daughter entered the bakery. wonwoo shot up, passed you his phone, kissed your cheek quickly, and made his way to the counter. what he didn't see was the look of shock on your face that quickly faded away into a grin as you typed in your phone number. "hi, how may i help you?" wonwoo activated his customer service mode.
"those macarons look good! would you recommend them?" the woman asked.
"yeah, actually i do, especially the raspberry ones," wonwoo grinned, but this time he didn't miss the way a cute smile spread across your face too.
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min | i'm in my delulu era don't mind me guys! i keep having dreams about wonwoo and i just want him to hug me. this isn't proofread yet! leave feedback! reblogs and comments are always appreciated!
tagging: @a-wandering-stay
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xiayannie · 20 days
Text
☆ scummy scara drabble
headcannons I suppose
cw(s) : smut, afab! fem! reader, cumming quickly, weird scara, weird reader ??
I actually love scummy scara
he's a virgin loser who has never felt the touch of a woman.
↳ scummy scara who froths at the mouth like a rabid animal whenever he sees you
it doesn't even have to be you dressed up in any type of way, scara just automatically follows you with his eyes and imagines all the (im)possible scenarios and fantasies he has with you
when you do dress up a bit skimpier than usual, he'd be ogling at you, thinking of how you proved him wrong by thinking that you couldn't look any hotter than you already did.
↳ scummy scara who is inexperienced and has unrealistic ideas about sex
↳ scummy scara who wants to play out his cringy imagination (which he gets from the anime he watches)
↳ scummy scara who can't believe that it's all real when you finally do talk to him !
↳ scummy scara has a nosebleed when you've straddled his lap, him getting a full view of you pulling up your shirt to reveal your plush breasts that he dreamt of seeing up close
↳ scummy scara who can't muster up any words, moaning like a whore and cumming within seconds when he bottoms out in your warm cunt
↳ scummy scara feels like he's in heaven as you tease and bounce on his cock, which you claim is "surprisingly big"
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scaramouche cries when you lean down to give him a peck on the lips. he's in disbelief that you're in his room, all cuddled up on his chest.
you can't help but let out a small laugh, finding him adorable in the way he reacts. he's never touched a girl, let alone talked to a girl longer than needed, so he's in awe as he blushes at the proximity you're both in.
it's so... intimate. your skin is so soft, and you're so warm and much more tiny than he imagined (not to mention, way more charming and hotter than he imagined in his little scenarios).
without realizing it, he had grew another erection.
you quickly felt it twitch and throb slightly against the fat of your ass, and you couldn't help but to tease the boy a little.
"you're ready for another round?" you smiled, flipping the both of you over, with him onto this time.
"how about you try topping me, lover boy? just try not to cum too quickly this time."
scaramouche was shaking as his hands made his way about, feeling confused and scared to think about touching your sacred body.
his worries were eased as you guided him, and he couldn't help but slap his hips into your warm and wet cunt in a frenzy once he bottomed out, because it felt too good not to.
your moans and words of affirmation made him melt into the crook of your neck, as he tried to be good and listen to you, trying his best not to cum quickly.
"f-fuck... s-sorry...! ah! I might cum soon..." he whined out, feeling you clench around his cock.
"... it's okay, cum for me." you managed to coo out to him between your soft pants. scaramouche came instantly, feeling weak in the knees as he collapsed onto you.
you smiled, realizing that he fell asleep from exhaustion.
scaramouche, despite his watching and curious looks towards you, never realized that you noticed his shy glances. it was cute, you thought.
you would wait in spots where you saw him sometimes, just to see his reaction to your newest low-cut top. and you would purposefully bend down in front of him when you wore a skirt, all just to see his face contort nervously, and to see his cheeks redden.
the thought of tainting his image of you being innocent and sweet was all too tempting, and you finally had him wrapped around your little finger.
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sunandflame · 7 months
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OMG, saw your message. I'd love a Rengoku x fem!reader first kiss outside his house drabble would be nice. Also a little bit of body exploring as they kiss...wild it out, please. Thank you❤️
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Warnings: fluff, suggestive Word Count: 882 Pairing: Kyojuro x Fem!Reader
Sweet Lips
For days you had given him signs, for days you had done what any woman would do, so their beloved one would kiss them. Maintaining eye contact, staring repeatedly onto their lips and so much more. You had done all these things. Giving him all the signals so your boyfriend would initiate the first kiss, but Kyojuro was blind to all of them.
This made you doubt whether your Hashira boyfriend was really that intelligent, but you knew better. Of course he was. He was one of the smartest people you ever met, he was just a little bit dense when it comes to intimacy as it seems. You immediately felt guilty for thinking that way, it was just so frustrating that you needed to sigh.
“My flame, is everything alright? You seem upset.” 
Of course he had noticed your exasperated sigh. How could he not? “Oh it’s nothing…” You hung your head and didn’t dare to look at his face. The two of you were on a walk, so it was easier to hide your blushing face. You didn't like lying, but you couldn't tell him the truth either. Suddenly you felt his warm hand around yours. His face was dangerously close to yours. 
“What are you hiding from me?” He looked at you with his large and beautiful golden-red eyes that always fascinated you.
“It’s-” nothing. Was it really that? You wanted to be kissed by him so badly that your whole body burned and longed for it. I want you to kiss me! These were the words you wanted to scream, but you couldn't bring it out of your mouth until he came even closer to you. “K-Kyojuro-san…” You looked up at him with a flush on your face and you didn’t know what came over you but you shyly dared to place your lips at the corner of his mouth.
He looked at you with wide eyes and you felt the embarrassment taking over. Oh god, what have you done? What if he didn't want that at all? “Kyojuro, I’m sorry-” But he didn’t let you finish. You didn't know what happened, but suddenly you found yourself pressed against a tree and your face in his hands. 
“Will you allow me to kiss you back?”
Without hesitation, you nodded, already closing your eyes. It was gentle at first, just a soft peck, and yet it felt like a blessing. Something like relief that made the butterflies dance in your stomach. He let go and kissed you again and this time a light sigh escaped your lips that stirred something in both of you. It encouraged him to slowly nudge his tongue against yours. A dance of tongues ensued and you felt the heat and desire flaring up and literally making your knees weak.
You clung to him. Your hands sought support on his broad shoulders because his kisses became more demanding and his lips now moved from your lips down to your neck where he placed open mouthed kisses, tasting you. God, that feels so good. Kyojuro seemed to enjoy it too, especially when your hands moved from his shoulders up, reaching into his soft blonde waves.
“Kyojuro~” Your sigh turned into a moan and you heard him respond with a groan. His hands moved impatiently to your lower back where he pressed you against his blazing hot body.
You liked it. And you wanted more.
Eagerly, your hands pulled at the top of his uniform so you could snake your fingers under the shirt, where you placed your hand on his abs and spread your fingers. A slight gasp escaped him but he seemed to enjoy it, so your hands didn't pull away and continued to caress him. It was beguiling to explore him in such a way.
But it wasn't just your hands that wanted to explore. You felt his big hand moving up, cupping your breast.
A few things happened at the same time. A moan escaped his throat as your fingertips brushed his nipple and he automatically squeezed your tit that also made you moan. Gods, you were so wet down there that you were sure you would be leaking into your pants soon.
It was captivating getting closer to each other this way and getting to know each other in such an intimate way and yet-
“Kyo-” You tried to come up with a sensible sentence, but it was hard when he was kissing you so hungrily. “Kyojuro.” Your index finger was on his lips and he looked at you in surprise. His hair was disheveled and his cheeks had a reddish glow. All indicators of his desire for you.
“Did I do something wrong?” His eyes were now wide as he looked at you slightly unsettled. It was just as much the first time for him as it was for you. “No, no, but I think we should stop here or continue somewhere else. Somewhere where we don't risk getting caught.”
You gave him a small smile to reassure him that he did nothing wrong.
“Oh yeah, that would be a problem.” He smiled back, resting his forehead against yours. “We definitely should move it somewhere private. I am itching to find out if you taste this sweet everywhere on your body.”
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Text
when the rain washes you clean, you'll know
Javier Peña x female reader
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Summary: Secrets can’t stay hidden forever, not with these rainy days anyway … Warnings: 18+ blog, MDNI, secret relationship vibes, sexual tension, passing mentions of sexism and work, flangst (is it a lolabee fic without this?), copious references to rainy seasons and rain, poor communication, elements of rivalry if you squint maybe? Notes: This is my entry for the very lovely @undercoverpena’s April Showers challenge and I would like to thank this event for giving me some Javi P inspo. The fic title is from the brilliant Fleetwood Mac Dreams. Word Count: 2.7k
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April brings the rain in Bogotá. You hear that in Cartagena, they get an extra month of dryness, but you’ve never minded water. You’re used to it.
If you were at your apartment now; with rain pitter pattering against glass windows, steaming coffee in your cup and a whole evening away from the office ahead of you, it would be better, you’d enjoy this moment. Instead, you’re desperately searching your handbag in the vain hope that this time around you will find an umbrella.
The embassy has a few umbrellas near the entrances and exits, but these have already been purloined by people leaving work before you. That will teach you to work late, to try and impress Messina again in vain.
This job isn’t what you expected. You wanted to expand your horizons, to do something wild and reckless with your life while you could. It seemed sensible to do this now, before mortgages and future commitments and expectations made it too difficult to be spontaneous.
The post in Colombia, working for Claudia Messina, seemed like a perfect opportunity. When you were told about it, all you could think was how it would certainly be a change from your small-town world and to learn from a woman rising in a male-dominated field was a dream, as well as a chance to stop the bad guys? You said yes almost automatically.
The reality is different to the images you’d let run wild in your mind. You’re not an active agent, you’re mostly doing translations, paperwork and shadowing Messina. The DEA’s office is dark and dank, illuminated by artificial bulbs and full of cigarette smoke. Your apartment is small and loud. Work takes so much of your time that you feel like you never explore this beautiful country or city and now it’s the wet season.
You feel like your adventure hasn’t yet started. It’s been weeks since you moved here and despite your best intentions, this isn’t what you had hoped for.
“Where are you parked?” a voice asks softly behind you. You turn around and see Agent Javier Peña - the source of most of your late nights of work as you try and untangle his messes or work on a better case for Messina to present.
When you had first joined the DEA office, one of the women in the office had taken you under her wing and shared the gossip and news about all of your new colleagues. She told you that Agent Peña has been in Colombia for years though, longer than most of the other active DEA agents.
He has a reputation. It’s all she’s needed to say to you about him.
Your few conversations with Javier have been professional, concise and fine. You’ve tried to notice his smile, the way he slightly changes his voice when he speaks to you, or any women. You refuse to be a notch in an already impressive bedpost, or to be the woman people talk about.
He might have a reputation, but from what you’ve heard, he’s one of the ‘good guys’. It lowers your guard; lets you point vaguely in the direction of your car. Javier smiles.
It’s a good smile. You can understand the rumours with a smile like that.
“We haven’t met, have we? I’m Javi” Five words. It takes only five words for Javier Peña to ruin everything. “I’d definitely remember seeing someone like you. Which uh, office are you in?”
You stand stonily silent, listening to the water running off the umbrella. Javier looks at you, brow furrowed as you extend the silence.
The rain does sound beautiful.
You open your car door and get in. Part of you wants to leave Javier right there, standing dumbfounded in the rain, his clothes getting damper by the second, the rain pouring over his stupid umbrella.
“I work for Messina, Peña, in the same damn office,” you say finally before slamming the door shut and starting your car engine.
“You changed your hair,” he says, hands on his hips defensively as he stands over your desk. “What’s your problem, Agent Peña?” “You changed your hair, that’s why I didn’t recognise you.” “Right.” You’re proud you manage to avoid physically rolling your eyes at his excuses. “It’s true,” he argues, shifting his position slightly. “Uh huh.” You remember that Colleen has boasted about him noticing her damn nail varnish so this feels weak at best so this hardly feels plausible, but as you look up you notice that Javi appears genuinely disturbed at your reaction. You take in his appearance further, now he’s not at the end of another busy day, isn’t fighting away rain in a damp suit and shirt, with curls peeking through his hair. Today he’s wearing a white shirt with a black pattern on it, his hair slightly scruffy, but moustache carefully sculpted. He smells like cologne and cigarettes. Sweet, woody notes trying to mask smoke and drawing you in like a siren’s song. “Look, this has been … delightful, but do excuse me, Agent Peña,” you say coolly, focusing on each syllable of his surname because you at least remember his name, at least you remember meeting him before yesterday. “I need to get back to work.” “Oh, well, please don’t let me keep you,” Javi replies with a sardonic tone, one eyebrow raised and his arms folded. “I shan’t.” You don’t move. “Must be very important work,” he says pleasantly, a slight smirk at your lack of movement. “Well, someone has to actually work around here,” you reply sweetly.
You don’t need to be a special agent to know that everybody has secrets. It’s a fact of life. There will always be things we keep from others, especially at work. Most of them will be mild and harmless, but some of them won’t be. It’s a constant.
There’s a reliability to this idea that perhaps you’re never getting the true person in front of you; just the shiny version that they want to project, the one that masks all the little secrets like they can’t quit smoking, or they drink milk straight from the carton.
It’s you too. You have a secret.
Your secret is wearing a light blue shirt today. Your secret is walking down the hallway arguing with his colleague. Your secret is the smell of cigarette smoke, whispered words and so much heat.
Your secret now is Agent Javier Peña.
He’s been your secret for weeks; weeks since the teasing banter developed into something else, to lingering touches, to kisses that you need like breathing and hands that map your body in a way you can hardly describe. You spent the month break from rainstorms in between yours and Javi’s apartments under the cover of night and cloud. Now it’s raining again, the wet season truly living up to its name.
Down in the DEA office, you can’t hear or see the rain outside. The windowless, dimly lit basement is a world away from the bustle of Bogota’s streets, yet somehow still is damp. Colombia’s wetness permeates through poorly maintained vents, through wet umbrellas in the bucket by the office door that hint at a world outside.
Steve and Javier are arguing. It’s not subtle, not a quiet disagreement between colleagues. It’s hands on hips, hands in the air, shaking heads and barely concealed curse words.
Maybe you should say something.
Or maybe not.
You try and return to your paperwork and the steaming mug of coffee you’ve been anticipating ever since your morning cup. There’s a coffee shop a few steps from your apartment building and you’ve finally convinced them to sell you some of their coffee blend. It’s not quite the same, but it’s close.
You think of breakfast this morning. The ghost of Javi’s lips on yours.
There’s a noise, a clearing of a throat and you look up to see Steve and Javi standing in front of your desk.
“Messina’s in meetings until five.”
“I know,” Javi says.
“It’s you, we want to speak to.”
You raise an eyebrow. Whatever this is between you and Javi relies on the two of you barely acknowledging one another in the office.
“You’re fluent in Spanish, right?” Steve asks directly.
You nod, still perplexed at how Steve’s Spanish is . “Why?”
“Firearm trained? You’re not just a desk jockey, right? You’re qualified?”
“Came third in my class.” You may have been a little higher if not for a terrible argument with your parents two days before your final exam. It hadn’t been your finest hour. You still carry it with you in every awkward phone call, every stilted letter home.
“Okay. That’s good. So, I don’t see the problem, Javi.”
“She came third. Who came first?’
“Really?” you ask incredulously, hurt and anger raging. How fucking dare he? You’ve told him about how hard it is to be taken seriously in the department, how the sexist roots prevail even with Messina in charge. Institutions can’t change overnight - they need people like you to fight them. Javi had emphasised, talked about his own barriers, the presumptions people had from his surname, his heritage.
He has the decency to look away, eyes abashed and fixated on the floor. Good, you think, that’s the very least he could do.
“I can get one of my informants -” No, you think, no, not one of Javi’s informants. You’ll do it, whatever Steve needs, surely you can do it instead?
“What do you need, Steve?”
This morning feels a world away now, but you let the memory take you away from this moment, from Javi’s inscrutable look when you said yes to Steve, from the fact you’re doing something this brave, this dangerous. You remember the coffee on the stove, its rich aroma seeping through the room as you wander out of Javi’s bedroom. Hands behind, wrapping around your wait and turning you around to meet his kiss. His hands move down your nightdress, teasing at the lacy hem as he moves them underneath. Laughing between kisses. “It’s raining,” you say. “I noticed,” he teases, tracing kisses down to your neck and then back up your jaw. “I think of you when it rains.” “Oh, yeah?” Javi stops for a second and looks at you quizzically. “Of how we got talking, of how we got from there, in that moment to here.” “Well ,I’ve never been more grateful to be caught in the rain.”
You’re starting to wonder if there was ever a time in Colombia that it wasn’t raining. The stormy clouds add to the greyness and foreboding of the street you’re currently parked in.
“Don’t,” Javi says quietly, the rain hitting the car windows and roof, echoing loudly around you. “Please don’t do this.”
You chance a look at him. “Do you not believe I can do this?” you ask, the concealed firearm heavy on your side, the wire Javi had put on feeling all to visible to you. He’d swallowed as he did it, featherlight fingers trying not to linger, you wondered if he was also trying not to default to the usual way he’d touch you.
“Oh, baby, I know you can.” Javi swallows. “But I want to be selfish and tell you not to do this. This isn’t a game, it’s not a drill -”
“I know that. I’ve been through the same training -”
“It’s different. You’ve not seen what I’ve seen.”
“I can handle it,” you reply simply.
“I don’t want you to.”
“Don’t be a sexist.”
“Don’t be so naive then, goddammit!”
“I’ve read the reports, studied the intel. I am not some naive ingenue here, Javi, fuck you for saying that. You made out I was stupid earlier, like I was some -”
“I’m sorry.” You can hear the apology is genuine.
You don’t reply, letting the rain speak for you instead. If you’re honest, you are nervous. This is your first undercover assignment and is so beyond the comfort and safety provided by your windowless desk.
It’s the job though, it’s what is needed.
“I’ve got this, Javi, whether or not you believe in me,”
“I do believe in you. I am sorry. I just - I don’t like it out here. I don’t like me out here, I don’t like who I am or who I become and I don’t - you’re still you. That’s part of what I love about you.”
You raise an eyebrow, meet Javi’s gaze. “Love, huh?”
You expect him to walk his words back, to huff or not say a word. He just shrugs.
“You ready?” Steve asks through the walkie talkie.
You nod before catching yourself, pressing the button and saying, “Yes, yeah, I’m ready and in position.”
“Okay, keep it to what we agreed, nothing else and keep it quick.”
Next to you, Javi looks at you pointedly, reinforcing Steve’s words.
“Understood,” you say and you can’t help but chance a smile at Javi as you unbuckle your seatbelt and get out of the car.
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Rain hitting your skin.
Your heart’s racing, it’s so loud you can feel it in your ears. The incessant beating and drumming of adrenaline coursing through your body.
You should be cold, but you’re not. Not as they load them into the van, as Steve pats you on the back to congratulate you on a job well done.
You wish your undercover persona was the type of woman who wore a coat on a rainy night. You wrap your arms around yourself.
You can still hear the gunshot. The shouts.
There’s a weight on your shoulder, the scent of cologne, cigarettes … Javi permeating through your haze.
He stands next to you, leaning against the wall, a lit cigarette between his fingers.
“I’m fine,” you say urgently.
“I know.”
“It’s just … a lot.”
“Yeah.”
“I thought they had made me towards the end.”
Javi pauses, taking a long drag of his cigarette before offering you it. You accept it with surprisingly shaky hands.
“I did too,” he admits in a low voice.
“But they didn’t.”
“They didn’t.” Javi pauses. “You did great.”
“You haven’t.”
“I haven’t, what?” he asks playfully, turning to face you. In the dim streetlight, you notice each feature of his face, how it’s illuminated in yellow light and how deep brown his eyes really are. His brow is furrowed, hair slightly dishevelled in the way you normally associate with a good night, but you know from his bad days in the office is from running his hand through his hair too many times.
“Changed,” you say. “You said you don’t like who you become, but you’re you, Javi. I like you. All of you.”
“You say shit like that, I’m going to end up kissing you right here.”
“Dare you,” you tease.
He smirks. “I would,” he replies in a low voice.
“It’d be romantic, with the rain and all. Maybe less so with our colleagues around though. ”
“Is that what you want?”
“Do you?” It’s the first time the two of you have broached this subject. For months, you’ve existed in peace with the parts of Javi he can give you out of an assumption that was all that he could offer. Today seems to have changed things though.
Javi swallows.
“Take away the job, or who you’re hunting, take it all away for a moment. Would you want - would you want to be with me like that?”
“If we were in Texas, if none of this was going on, then nothing would stop me.”
“I’ve never been to Texas,” you muse.
“When this is over, we can go,” Javi says and the vulnerability in his eyes is so alien.
“I’ll hold you to that.”
“Looks like it’s still raining,” Javi says, noticing your attention at the view outside.
“Yep,” you say, “I suppose we should head back to everyone else, right? Finish the paperwork?”
“I didn’t say it this morning, but I think of you too. When it rains, I always think of you.”
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Tag List
Everything Pedro tag-list: @harriedandharassed @pedrostories @hiroikegawa @pedrosaidsheispunk @pastelnap
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billthedrake · 2 months
Text
SUGAR DADDY (PART ONE)
I was cooling down from my run, and I was paying more attention to the traffic light to cross. I almost didn't see them.
But the man saw me, a look of embarrassment sweeping his face before the familiar friendly tone won out.
"Luke?" he said.
"Mr. Keenan," I replied automatically, as if the recognition was coming out of my mouth before it hit my brain. Mr. Keenan was my buddy Rich's dad, a successful corporate lawyer or something. I know Rich had issues with his father, made even worse by his parent's divorce, but Mr. K was always beyond nice to me. And truth be told, I always found him incredibly attractive. Tall, handsome, salt and pepper coming in on the temples, kind of like a TV dad. Even now he was in a nice-cut navy suit, dress shirt and no tie.
His blue eyes were taking me in. It had been over three years since I'd last seen the man, since high school graduation, and I'm sure I looked different now. "I almost forgot you went to school here," he said. "Georgetown?" he prompted.
"Yes, sir. They haven't kicked me out yet," I smiled in my self-deprecating way.
It was then that I noticed the woman standing next to him. She couldn't have been any older than me. She was pretty, real pretty, with that sorority girl look. Straight blond hair and big tits for a girl with her trim frame. At least they showed off well in that spaghetti strap cocktail dress she had on. Her high heels didn't get her close to Mr. K's 6'3" height but they added a couple of inches.
I now had a pretty good idea why Rich's parents got divorced.
The man's date was good at hiding her annoyance at my presence but not good enough that I couldn't see that she wanted to get on to where they were going. Part of me couldn't blame her. It was fall, the evening was cool, and she was underdressed for it.
Mike Keenan realized where I was looking and that embarrassed look came back on his face. "Luke, this is Kimberly..." he turned to his girlfriend or date or whatever. "Luke's from back home," he explained. Almost with an emphasis of meaning.
Turning back to me. "We should go, buddy... but it's great running into you, Luke."
"You, too, Mr. Keenan," I said. It was only then that I was self conscious about standing on a busy Georgetown sidewalk in my sweat-drenched running clothes, the cool getting to me now that the exercise was wearing off.
He flashed his trademark smile, like he always did when I came over. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, deftly extracting a business card. "I'm in DC a few nights a week these days. Reach out and we'll catch up, OK?"
"Sure thing, Mr. K," I said, taking the card in my fingers.
Then I watched as my friend's dad and his college-aged girlfriend went walking on to their date spot.
****
"I was gonna ask if you can keep things under wraps about Kimberly," Mr. Keenan said as we waited for our burger at a nice but not overly fancy bistro that DC seemed to have a ton of. I'd met Mr. K closer to his hotel, just two nights after running into him.
"Oh yeah, sure," I said. If the man had asked me to give an alibi to the police for something I probably would have. I mean, Mike Keenan always was great to me, encouraging me in my baseball playing and even helping me out with college admissions stuff, since my folks were more blue collar. His dating life was really none of my business, but I felt like it was conversation worthy. "How long have you two been dating?"
He squirmed in his seat and sighed. "A while... not too long..." he said then gave me a long hard look. "Listen, Luke, you can keep this between us, right?"
The blue eyes and handsome jawline and perfect teeth were gonna make me crush out a little on the man, like I did back in high school. "Absolutely," I replied. Earnest as hell.
He smiled. He could read my sincerity, and I think it amused him. He leaned back and had a soft leer on his face, a side of him I'd never seen. "She's not my girlfriend," he explained. "I met her on one of those sugar daddy sites."
I may have been a dumb jock, but I figured out what he meant pretty quick. "You mean she's a hooker?" I asked. I had to laugh, and Mr. K laughed back.
"No, well, not exactly," he replied. "But there's a little of that, even if we both pretend that's not what's going on." His eyes searched out mine, and I knew he was trying to read if I was freaked out or judgmental. I wasn't, just surprised.
I tried to pass off my shock with a joke. "She expensive?" I said.
He grinned, with a I-can't-believe-you-asked-that look. But he replied anyway. "Very. But I can afford it."
Something about his tone and lecherous nature got me hard. Not chubbed, but full on erect in my jeans.
The man mistook my horniness for a different reaction. "Sorry Luke," he said. "I shouldn't have said that... only you asked."
"No, it's good," I assured him. "Just didn't expect it, is all."
"Fair," he said. He sighed again. "Seriously, Luke, not a fucking word to Rich. Or anyone. I mean it."
"I won't, Mr. K, promise," I assured him. He probably didn't want to talk about it anymore, but I was very curious. "So... how's it work exactly?"
"How's what work?"
"The sugar daddy thing."
He seemed more businesslike. Maybe he enjoyed being able to confide, or maybe he just was humoring me. "I pay for Kimberly's apartment and of course for dates," he explained. "There are gifts, too, but she doesn't make me jump through hoops like some of the others."
I was letting it sink in that this one wasn't Mr. K's first. I knew the guy was loaded, but that kind of money was wild to me.
"Damn, I should get a sugar daddy," I joked.
Without missing a beat, Mr. Keenan shrugged his shoulders and said, "You could. If that's what you wanted."
I blushed. I was still pretty closeted though Rich Keenan knew. Maybe Mike Keenan knew too.
The man seemed to enjoy catching me off guard. "A colleague of mine goes for high-class call boys, but I've been trying to convince him to go for something more legit." This was definitely a new side to Mike Keenan than I'd seen.
He paused. "Sorry, Luke. I'm not really suggesting... You know that, right?" The old Mr. K was back.
"Yeah, Mr. Keenan," I said. I wasn't totally naive, but this evening had already made me feel more green than I wanted.
He held up his empty rocks glass in a gesture for the bartender to bring another. He then turned to me. "You have any special men in your life?"
So Mr. K did know.
I shook my head. "I've hit the apps some," I said with candor. "But no one special."
He patted me on my shoulder, like he used to back when I'd come over to visit Rich. Like a buddy or a dad. "Well, you've grown into a fine young man, Luke Bowman. I'm sure that someone special will come soon... maybe when you're not expecting it."
OK, I was more than a little crushed out.
***
Something about seeing Mr. Keenan was a spark in my life that I needed. I'd spent too much of my college years scared. Scared of getting out there, of meeting men. I liked men who were older. Coach types, though that was out of bounds and not realistic. But I changed the age range on my app profile and decided I was going to be open to engaging with men who turned me on there.
It was hit or miss. I heard from some real obnoxious guys. I went on some dates with a really fucking hot doctor who was great sex but then basically ghosted me. I had a couple of hookups that were good for what they were.
I wasn't being a man-whore exactly, but I enjoyed making up for lost time a little.
Strangely Mr. K became my confidante. I don't know why I thought the man would be homophobic, hell maybe deep down he was, but we each shared a secret with the other. And once he was back in DC for business that spring, I met him every other Wednesday for burgers and beer, depending on my game schedule. I got the increasing feeling that he valued his time with me, since he and Rich didn't get along well these days. The man carried a lot of guilt for his broken marriage, but he'd be the first to admit that he'd probably do the same thing all over again.
"Buddy, college girls are the best," he leered one Spring night as we finished our meal. Mr. K let his hair down a LOT with me these days. "I know they don't do anything for ya, Luke, but Jesus, fuck..."
I laughed. I knew Mike Keenan was a grade-A horndog and probably not a good man in that way, but I enjoyed seeing his naughty side.
"You ever think about dating one for real, Mr. K?" I asked. For most of our meetings, it had been mostly my buddy's dad asking me about my life, but it was just now getting to the point where I felt like I could ask personal questions like this.
He shook his head. "It wouldn't work. Besides, I wouldn't do that to Rich." It was a strangely profound admission.
I gulped. Yeah, I could see it from my buddy's perspective, having a stepmother his age, or younger even.
"That's cool, Mr. Keenan. But you gotta live your life, too," I said.
That caught the man off guard. He looked at me then smiled. He reached over and ruffled my hair. "You really think that, dont ya?" he asked.
I nodded, embarrassed.
He grinned. "Don't worry, kiddo. I'm enjoying my middle age years. A little too much."
"With Kimberly?" I prompted. He hadn't mentioned her in a while.
"I called off that arrangement," he said bluntly. "She wanted more."
"A ring?" I laughed. I didn't get straight people, not really, but at the same time they were my entire world.
That leer returned to the man. "No. More money. I'm taking a break for now."
"How long will that last?" I teased.
"Dunno. A month. Maybe two. Till I get horny again."
"I'm pretty sure you wouldn't have to wait that long to get laid, Mr. K."
It was meant as a playful comment, at least in my head. But the second it came out I realized I'd said too much. That Mr. Keenan could read everything in my face, everything I'd kept hidden. How attracted I was to him, how crushed out I was on him, how jealous I was of Kimberly or whatever sorority chick he was banging.
The look on the man's face could now see it all.
Tears welled up in my eyes and I started getting a panic attack. I stood up from the bar stool. "I should go," I said.
A hand reached out and gripped my forearm. Mr. K's grip was surprisingly strong. "Luke. It's OK."
Somehow, his understanding made it worse. I shook my head and broke free. "Sorry," I muttered. Then made a beeline for the door.
I felt dumb and intensely vulnerable as I walked to the bus stop. I'd messed up this friendship thing I had with Mike Keenan, but maybe it was fucked up that I was hanging out with my friend's dad like this in the first place. No maybe about it: it was majorly fucked up.
I was a block away from the stop when I got a text.
"Can I convince you to come back, Luke?" the man wrote. "I get it buddy."
I knew the smart thing would be to keep walking. To send a polite no thanks reply. Or just ignore the text. Instead I typed. "Yes Mr. K." And I walked back to the restaurant.
Mike Keenan was standing outside, looking handsome as fuck in his expensive suit. He had a worried look on his face, and I knew immediately he'd dashed out after me but didn't know which way I went.
His face brightened when he saw me. "We don't have to stay here," he said. "I settled up."
"Oh," I said. "Sorry..." I started to apologize, but he stopped me.
"You were honest," he said directly, blunt but still friendly. "Besides, what man doesn't like to hear he's attractive?"
I gave a wan smile and hunched my shoulders in a shrug. "A lot of straight men, I imagine."
I couldn't tell if Mike Keenan was just humoring me. He had a look of sympathy on his face for sure as he reached out and patted my arm. "How bout this? No labels between us, Luke?"
I didn't get what he was saying exactly, but I knew it was meant to reassure me. I nodded.
"Feel like coming to my hotel?" he asked. "We can just talk."
"Yeah." I was feeling a ton of emotions coursing through me. But I wanted more Mr. K time. "Sounds nice."
That seemed to relax him and put him in a good mood as we walked the few blocks to the nice, business-class residence hotel where he was staying. I couldn't help but sneak looks over his way. He just looked incredible in his suit, not a trim cut one like younger guys sometimes wore but it still flattered his build and height. In my mind, the suit made him look like one of those DC power players and in some messed up way that turned me on.
We weren't too chatty as he led me up to his room. It was fancy to my eyes but had that empty aura that hotel rooms do, even if Mr. K's luggage and belongings were around.
I was looking around the place when the man stepped up right behind me and wrapped his arms around my midsection. I smelled his cologne and felt his kisses along my neck. I guess we were going to do more than just talk.
"Oh, God, Mr. K," I hissed. This probably a record time for how fast I could throw hard. That boner was nearly instant.
"You can call me Mike," he said.
"OK," I said dumbly.
His hands traveled up and down my T-shirt. I was primed to be turned on by this man, but he was going to put me in heat.
"You OK with this, buddy?"
"You have no idea, Mist.. Mike" I replied.
My slip up got a chuckle from him. His fingers slipped beneath the hem of my shirt and the touch of his hand against my belly felt electric. "You have an amazing body, Luke."
"You too, sir," I replied.
He kissed some more along my neck and his voice got deeper, hoarser. "Do you suck cock, Luke Bowman?"
The grunt from the man was an indication I'd said the right thing. "I don't know that I'm good for all the other stuff," he said, "but I'd REALLY love to feel your mouth on me, buddy."
I knew what he meant. The man wasn't going to reciprocate, and I'd have to be fine with that. I was. "I don't need anything in return, Mike," I said. "I want to suck you."
He had that huge horndog grin on his face when I finally turned to face him. We were matched in height but he felt like my opposite in so many ways. Older, successful in his career, straight, though I was getting the fuller meaning of his "no labels" comment.
Especially as his face inched in and his lips met mine. I was kissing Rich Keenan's dad and the forbidden nature of that just added to my thrill. I took a second to feel up his sides, under the suit coat. Mr. K didn't object, he just went deeper with the kiss. Mike Keenan was a great kisser.
"You're a very handsome young man," Mr. K finally said as he pulled back.
"God, Mike," I grunted. This was every JO fantasy I'd had coming to life.
With that naughty look on his face, he reached down and started unzipping. I didn't even look down, not yet, but I could tell from his shoulder motion that he was hauling out his cock.
"Please, buddy," he hissed.
"Here?" I asked dumbly. In my hookups before BJs had been naked and on a bed.
"Here," he growled. This was that other side of Mr. K, the kind who hired sugar babies to get his needs taken care of.
I squatted down. I was a catcher for the Hoyas baseball team, so at least I had this motion down, I thought to myself.
Mike Keenan's cock was gorgeous. Big and meaty and cut but not overly long. It jerked and pulsed as he looked down on me.
"You done this before, right?" he asked. That concerned paternal voice coming out.
I nodded. "Some," I replied. "I wish I had more practice." Then with an honesty I probably shouldn't have had, I added, "I want this to be good for you, Mike."
He chucked and moved his hand to run through my hair. It was strangely affectionate. "You'll do great, buddy."
That was all the encouragement I needed. Leaning in, I could smell the mild, natural musk of a man's crotch, which was matched by Mr. K's saltiness as I began licking him. I gripped the base of his prick to steady it for my sucking, but I maybe didn't even need to do that. Mike was rock hard.
"Yes..." he hissed as I went down on him. I was still pretty green at sucking cock, but I was probably better than Kimberly or whatever sugar baby he'd lined up in the past. Or even the former Mrs. Keenan, I thought crudely.
That knowledge had me going for it. I swallowed four inches of the man in one go, held just a second to let my throat get used to it. Then I started going up and down. It took a second for me to get my rhythm and another for me to get the suction. But I knew I did by the urgency of the man's fingers in my hair, not exactly pushing me down on his crotch but aiding and guiding me in my bobbing motion. He was probably thinking of some chick while I blew him, but I was OK with that.
Only his next words broke me of that idea. "Luke, buddy... you're getting me there," he hissed. Mr. K was very present in this blowjob. I paused a second and looked up at him, and could see he was looking down at me.
I wanted to get him off. So I looked back forward and went for it. The best I could deliver. I hoped it was enough.
The fingers grew tighter. "Gonna cum... Don't pull off," Mike growled. "Please."
At that moment I felt bad for straight men. Even if I should have felt bad that Mr. K wasn't gonna suck me. I just felt any woman was stupid not to want to swallow Mike Keenan's cum.
"UNNFH!" came the sound of his release as he flooded my mouth and throat with his salty-sweet cum. Maybe Mike was backed up, but he was a heavy shooter all right. I accepted it all, swallowing it in waves as quickly as he fed it to me. I think my sucking sensation only added to his orgasm. He finally pulled out, prick wet and still hard.
"God fucking damn, buddy, that was great," he said with a satisfied smile. Then as he caught his breath and I stood up, he added, "Can I jerk you off or anything?"
That sounded great. "You got any lube?"
He nodded and walked over to the bathroom to root around his toiletries bag. He stepped back in, his prick softer but still sticking out. With a grin, he tossed me travel container of lube. "Don't be shy," he said.
I was already undoing my shorts, which fell to the floor. Then I peeled down my underwear, letting Mike see my hardon. It was a trip for me, being mostly naked in front of him. Maybe he wasn't gonna be fully gay for me, but he was open to seeing my dick as I squirted the liquid on my stalk and start stroking.
With a grin he stepped up to me, a little to the side, placing his hand on my belly and working up beneath my shirt as he met me for a kiss.
That's all it took. I didn't come instantly but instantly I began that climb to orgasm. Mr. Keenan's kiss and touch was the extra stimulation to get me there.
I moaned into his mouth as I shot my cum, shooting out onto the hotel carpet.
He broke the kiss when I was done and patted my chest. "You needed that, buddy," he said with satisfaction.
"I did," I nodded. "Thanks."
Things felt a little awkward now. I'd crossed some major lines with this guy that evening, and now that I'd gotten off I felt majorly self conscious about it.
"You OK, Luke?" he asked as we tucked back in.
"I'm OK, Mr. Keenan."
"You can NEVER tell Rich about what just happened," he said.
"You know I'm gonna keep everything private," I said. "You can trust me."
He nodded. "Why don't you get cleaned up. Feel like a drink? I have some scotch here or you can raid the mini bar."
I nodded. "I don't know anything about scotch, but you can teach me."
He chuckled. "All right."
It felt nice to just talk. Mr. K let me open up, about men and being gay and what I really wanted from dating and sex. The man talked about his very limited experience with guys when he was a teen.
"I should have figured men would be better at giving head," he said with a playful leer. "That was incredible, Luke. For real."
"I'm glad," I said. Maybe this wasn't a healthy hookup, but it had felt incredibly satisfying for me, a dream come true.
"You're going to make some dude VERY happy," he said with a smile.
"I hope so," I said with a defensive chuckle. "I hope he makes me happy too."
Mr. Keenan got what I meant. "Yeah, you deserve that," he said a little chastised. He polished off the last of his liquor in the rocks glass. "Listen, it's been a long day."
"Yeah, I'll head off," I said, drinking the rest of my scotch and standing up.
Mr. K pulled his walled out and fished out a couple of twenties. "Here you go... you're not taking the bus back. Especially at this hour."
I tried not to take it. "It's Ok, Mike," I said.
He shook his head. "Just get a fucking Uber, Luke. I insist."
"OK," I said, capitulating. The man could be bossy, and I didn't know whether I liked that or not.
He was quieter now, as he led me to the door but he said before I stepped out. "I'm gonna sleep like a baby tonight, buddy. Thanks."
"You too, sir."
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en-vys · 2 months
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Baby Nanami being a Daddy’s girl and won’t let anyone else hold her except him
When he leaves for work she literally cries until she can’t and momma has to put Nanami on facetime so she’ll be happy
girl dad nanami.
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5:13 AM - an hour after birth
"I'M A FATHER now." nanami sighs, looking down at his daughter in content, "nanami my turn." gojo sighs impatiently tapping his shoe on the ground repetitively. geto being by your side, caressing your hand smiling.
"congrats on your successful birth. we are blessed to have you at our hands again." he squeezes your hand, you clear your throat before responding. "thanks geto, but it's not like I died and came back to life." he tilts his head to the side, questioning the matter.
"c'mon nanami! quit bein' selfish! we know its your kid but we wanna see the girl!" shoko starts stomping on the floor, gojo following in suit.
9:20 PM - 5 years after birth.
"baby please go to sleep.." you groan, trying to soothe your 5 year old daughter. as she starts sobbing into nanami's dress shirt, "daddy!! ! want my daddy!!!"
you shake your head, "daddy's at work hun.. busy doing whatever to curses." "i-is he safe mama?" your daughter whimpers, snuggling into you. "yes he is baby, hes a very strong daddy." "okay.".
you smile snapping a picture of your daughter in namami's dress shirt, being way too big for her, sitting in front of the garage door awaiting her fathers return.
silly woman. ���
ATTACHMENT 1...
your baby misses you nana..
silly man. 🤎
i'm not busy, i could call right now if
you’d like to do so 😄
INCOMING CALL... SILLY MAN.
you get your daughters attention, dabbing her face dry with a soft cloth. "baby your daddy wanted to facetime you!" her face automatically lights up, stumbling a little but still running towards her mother.
"daddy?" your now smiling daughter, grasps onto the phone. "hi princess, how have you been? you better have not been giving your mother a hard time. thats not something i would've wanted."
your daughter starts frowning, "I haven't! you can ask mommy!" she pleads, looking at you sympathetically. "shes been behaving, shes been a very good girl." patting her head.
she smiles, and darts off. phone in hand as shes talking to nanami, telling him about her day. you can hear her from downstairs running around and giggling about.
she was asleep in her room, with nanami doing his paperwork. you decided not to disturb her, as you've been dying to have peace and quiet since your husband had left for work.
you smile in content, as you make your way downstairs to go make some dinner for when your daughter wakes up.
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sorry for taking so long!
@en-vys : this is my ONLY account other accounts with the same name are NOT me, do not repost on any other platform, translate, or steal in anyway. - 2024
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