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sinofwriting · 7 months

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Private Professor - Max Verstappen

Words: 5,576 Summary: For years and years, Max has claimed that he has a girlfriend, but no one has ever met her and he refuses to talk about her with the media. And it’s far easier to believe that he’s lying when no proof of a girl exists. Note(s)/Warning(s): Small Age Gap (Reader is nearly two years younger), Some Angst, Mostly Fluff, Jos Verstappen. Thank you so much to the anon that requested this! I had a lot of fun writing it!

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At fourteen and sixteen, their relationship is all blood rushing to their cheeks, fluttering hands, kisses that last too long and not long enough, panting breaths, and hickeys below shirt collars. It’s whispers of forever, of I’ll take you here and there. That house will be ours one day. Whatever you want, you’ll have. I’ll be on break, you’ll come home and I’ll be waiting. You’ll follow me everywhere and I’ll do the same.

It’s promises they don’t realize they shouldn’t be making but do. It’s sweet nothings and petty fights that last a day before they’re back in each other's arms. It’s pretending not to notice how his dad watches him amused as he walks calmly out of the door before sprinting over to her house and sneaking into her bedroom. It’s her parents pretending not to hear the thud of him falling into her bedroom and the light giggles their daughter makes.

At fourteen and sixteen, their relationship changes. It’s no longer seeing each other when he doesn’t have a race or training and is home, no Red Bull duties to be done. It’s long phone calls, texts, snapchat streaks, learning how to video call. It’s carrying two power banks with them everywhere and Max buying them both expensive phone cases that charge their phones. It’s falling asleep on the phone while the other is just beginning their day. He attends classes with her, while she listens to him train. He goes to red bull meetings and pretends not to have the light sound of breathing in his ears from her falling asleep while studying or doing her homework.

Fifteen and seventeen, brings them peace. She’s still studying like a mad woman at Harvard of all places, but he’s got an F1 seat of all things. He’s in F1. He suddenly has more things to do but more free time. When he’s not racing or at the factory or doing weird press things that make him want to rip his hair out, Jos is putting him on a plane to America, to her. And he soaks up all the time with her he can, despite it being filled with her studying, attending classes, and forcing actual food down her throat which her parents both thank him for.

It also brings the stupidest thing in the world; the doubt and disbelief that he has a girlfriend.

Carlos is the first to bring it up upon seeing his home screen that’s just all black, not even the default that iphone has.

“No girlfriend?” Max frowns at him, pocketing his phone and sending a glance over to where his father is standing and talking to his race engineer. “What?” “Your home screen, it’s all black. You don’t have a girlfriend?” Carlos is teasing, joking. The whole paddock already knows that Jos Verstappen wouldn’t let his son have a girlfriend, not now when he’s got an F1 seat. Such a thing would be a distraction and Max isn’t allowed those. Max isn’t allowed friends on the grid either. Carlos wonders though how much the last part is just a Jos thing. “I do.” Then he says her name, all soft and sweet in a way Carlos never thought Max could be. It’s nearly enough for him to believe Max, but then he catches a glimpse of Jos and shakes his head, clapping the seventeen year old on the back.

He is the first to not believe Max, but far from the last. It’s Daniel next, Christian, Esteban, Pierre, Sebastian, Lando, every interviewer that asks.

It doesn’t matter because at seventeen and nineteen, she gets her second degree and begins the nightmare of getting her doctorates in education and history. And he picks out a ring before making his father hide it away. And instead of him constantly flying to her, she’s flying to him. Hiding out in his Monaco apartment, turning his living room into a disaster zone as she spreads her things around to study.

The mess drives him crazy, but he doesn’t move anything no matter how much his hands itch to do so, instead just pressing a kiss to the top of her head before pressing himself in between her and the couch. Grinning when she sends him a look, a clear don’t be a distraction, before giving him a kiss.

His days in Monaco when she’s there are spent in the living room after training, playing fifa or watching some documentary for one of her classes with her, and poking at her lightly because he doesn’t know shit about history but he’s still able to remember countries quicker than her.

They turn eighteen and twenty and nearly get married when her family goes on vacation to Vegas, dragging the two along despite them not being able gamble, which is the only reason her parents had chosen Vegas. The only thing that stops them from getting married is him not being a US citizen and her visa just being for school. It’s a fucking wakeup call for him and he can’t help but pester her about places in Monaco to live.

She entertains it for all of five minutes before she’s cupping his face and kissing him. When she pulls back, she’s shaking her head. “As long as it has you and four bedrooms, I don’t care.” “Four?” “We’ll need our own offices and a guest room.”

It’s barely anything for the real estate agent to work with but he doesn’t care. He wants something that’s at least four bedrooms, two baths, a decent kitchen, and a view. She liked the Monaco sunrise and sunset and he planned on letting her be able to see it anytime they stayed in Monaco.

His agent gets back to him in a week and he ignores the look on Daniel’s face when he comes over for the first time. Ignores the jokes about it being too big for one person just like Daniel ignores him saying that he has a girlfriend.

“If you had one, I’d have seen a picture of her mate. The whole world would.”

Max still remembers the way his jaw had twitched at the thing everyone said. That if he had a girlfriend, they’d have seen a picture of her, that he’d be showing her off every second, have her at the races, been seen with her. When Max had made it abundantly clear that the worst part of driving was the media, the fame. So why would he ever subject someone he loves to that when they both weren’t ready for that?

Because they weren’t. He wasn’t ready for another part of his life, one of the most important parts, to be something for everyone to look at and dissect. And she wasn’t ready for it either. Not when she was doing so much studying. She barely felt like she had time for him, which he denied and hated vehemently, she didn’t have time for the online vitriol of being a girlfriend to a high profile athlete. And she didn’t need to be harassed as she attended classes and studies groups and such if someone recognized her and didn’t like that she was with him.

Not showing any pictures or videos of her was also easy for him. It wasn’t because he didn’t have any, he had hundreds. But they were pictures and videos of her, only meant for him. Not because they were dirty in nature, though some were, but because how she was in them was something only she allowed him to see. It was photos of her with a finger pressed to her top lip as she glared at her books, videos of her sitting on something too tall for her feet to touch the ground and letting them swing. It was her smiling at him, all fond, shy and in love.

It was them wrapped up in each other's arms and love. Her in between his legs or the other way around. Her sitting on his lap as Vic stole his phone to video them laughing and exchanging kisses. Her giggles as she tries not to fall asleep as reads her books to him over facetime. It’s her in her purest form and he doesn’t want the people in his life who are so quick and sure to not believe him to get to see that.

Nineteen and twenty-one, she officially co-owns their place in Monaco and he starts scouting out property in Belgium and land in France that’s somewhat close to the principality he lives in. It was too early to start building a house to live in forever, not when they weren’t sure what they wanted to live in forever with their kids, but it wasn’t too early to buy the land for it.

It also leads to their biggest fight in years.

“Max!” Her nails are digging into her arms. “I’m not saying that. I’m saying that I want to help, that I can pay. I have money!” “And you don’t need to!” He’s yelling as well, face red with anger. “I’ve got money too! You don’t need to pay for shit when I can.” She shakes her head. “Really? Is that how it's always going to be? I won’t ever get to pay for anything? Just have a salary and trust fund wasting away.” She scoffs, giving another shake of her head. “Is it about being the breadwinner? Because don’t worry Max, I’m well aware that you’ll always have more money than me. Doesn’t mean I can’t contribute to our life.” “Fuck.” He murmurs seeing the tears brimming in her eyes but not falling, the hurt in her words. “It’s not about that at all. It’s not about being the breadwinner.” “Then what is it about?” Her voice is high pitched. “You won’t let me pay for a single thing! I can’t buy groceries without you slipping money back into my wallet. I can’t help pay the bills and now you won’t let me help buy the land that will have our house on it. What is it about Max?” “You’re mine.” Her eyes widened at his quiet but firm tone. “You’re my girlfriend, the love of my life. One day my wife and the mother of my children.” He runs his tongue over his teeth, feeling words and feelings he’s only ever really let come out during sex or when they're both so drunk they barely remember anything the next day. “I want to pay for everything because it’s providing for you, it’s making sure you’re eating, sleeping somewhere safe, getting the best, most accommodating flights. It’s knowing that I’m providing for my family.”

“Max,” she breathes out, arms falling away from her chest and then she’s moving closer, resting a hand over his racing heart. “You want to provide for me?” He nods. “For our future kids?” “Yes.” “So do I. So, we’re going to work on this. You want to buy the land, you can.” He looks at her distrusting, because this didn’t sound like working on it. “But, I get to pay for groceries when I go out for them, without you paying me back. I get to pay for netflix because I use it more and spotify.” She adds. He frowns at her. “I don’t like it.” “Too bad and I’m not done. In return, you get to pay the bills, put gas in the car for me,” he grins at that. “Pay for my flights and we are going to open a joint account to put an equal amount of money in every month. For things like vacations, anniversary dinners, and the kids. Because it’s important that I get to help provide for them too. And when we build that house together, I want to pay at least half of the contracting fee. I’ll let you pay for the rest.” “I want to pay for any of the kids' interests. Like art, ballet or karting.” “No deal.” She shakes her head and he’s frowning again. “You can pay for all the karting, it will mean more. But I want it out of the shared account for the other things. Unless,” she pauses. “Unless,” he encourages. “If any of them decides to go to university early like me, I want to pay fully for it.” “No.” It’s quick and now she’s frowning as well. “It’s our children and their education. Shared account.” “Their first degree.” He shakes his head. “And if it’s their only degree?” Her brows press together, it was a good point. Just because they decided to go to university early like her didn’t mean they’d go for more than one degree. “First year.” His eyes narrow as he looks at her, but he nods. “First year. But only of the first degree.” “First degree only.” She agrees.

It’s quiet between them before Max lets his face soften, lips twisting slightly into a smile. “Are we done fighting?” She laughs, but nods. “Yeah. We’re done fighting.” “Thank god.” He breathes, pulling her into his arms and burying his face into the crook of her neck. “Let’s not do that again.” “Not anytime soon at least.” “I love you.” He murmurs. “I love you too.”

Twenty and twenty-two has their families asking when exactly they’re getting married, wondering why there isn’t a ring on her finger and their only saving grace is their time spent in Monaco together away from them all. But when it gets to be too much as pressure builds as she tries to finish her doctorate in education while still working on her doctorate for history, it’s Jos that steps in for her and Max.

The three of them shared a complicated relationship. She could never like him for the parent he was to Max growing up. From the near abuse he hurled at him when he failed, the pressure he put on a child, the leaving him in a foreign country for a few hours when he wasn’t even a teenager more than once. But she did love him, because Max loved him and in his own way he loved Max and he showed that with his support of their relationship when everyone expected for him to have a problem with it, label it as a distraction. And now as a few years had passed and Max was comfortable in his F1 seat, he was Max’s fiercest defender, unwilling to back down, but would if Max told him too. And he was her fiercest defender as well. Glaring at jokes about her not needing a degree with the money Max made, not forcing her to join on trips when she was busy with school or questioning her support of Max because she didn’t attend races.

So, neither Max or her are surprised when Jos steps in when her grandparents are trying to back them into a corner as to why she doesn’t have a ring on her finger and how they have a number for a wedding planner and she should really give her a call, when all they want is to get breakfast before retreating to their room so she can resume her studies while Max hovers around her while going over his own work.

She hadn’t been thrilled at first when she learned that Jos would join them on the trip, knowing that Sophie wouldn’t be there, but now she was grateful and she made sure to squeeze his shoulder before leaving the kitchen and scheduled a nice quiet dinner for herself, Max and Jos as thanks.

The media becomes relentless when they’re twenty-two and twenty-four and Max wins his first championship. Because there is no girlfriend in sight despite the now champions thanks for her support and love. They tear Max apart for creating a fake girlfriend that has no name or face, call him unloveable with his fake championship. Some tear her apart as well, calling her gold digger, selfish, undeserving, fans of Max and the sport do as well.

It was supposed to be a happy moment for him, one of if not the best in his life, but it’s tainted, ruined, and as soon as he’s home with her in Monaco, all she can do is hold him and pretend that the texts from his friends begging him to go out and get laid don’t make her cry later in the shower.

Despite the texts and a bold one from Daniel about hiring him a prostitute, she forces Max to go out, to celebrate with the drivers in Monaco, to get drunk and have fun, and forget what the media is saying about him.

“I’m coming back if one of them even hints at a prostitute.” He tells her and she laughs, but she knows that he’s serious. He’s never even once considered cheating on her and one of their first serious fights had been about her trying to convince him and herself that she’d be okay if he got lonely while he was traveling and needed someone. He hadn’t believed it for a second and it had been one of the few times he had been so pissed at her that he couldn’t even stomach to look at her.

“Am I making a mistake, mom?” She asks, barely five minutes later, not even bothering saying hi when her mom greets her over the phone. “No.” Her mom’s voice is firm and has her blinking away tears. “But,” “No.” Her mom cuts her off. “Sweetheart, I can’t even begin to try and understand Max and yours relationship. But this, this privacy that you two have, that’s not a mistake. It’s rough right now and it will be. And it will come back later when you two do decide to be public, but it’s not a mistake. You two both made the difficult, heartbreaking, mature decision to keep it private for both of yours sake.” “I know.” She whispers, wiping away tears. “You both still need privacy and there is no shame in that. Max isn’t ready and neither are you. As far as I’m concerned the only mistake you two have made is still not being married with a baby on the way.” “Mom.” She groans and her mom laughs. “I know, I know. Just remember that despite the seven or so years you’ve been together, that you two are still young, still doing so much growing.” “Thank you.” “Of course.”

When Max arrives home hours later, drunkenly stumbling around and into bed, she’s not surprised by the smell of liquor clinging to him or the drunken murmurings he’s pressing to her skin. She is surprised by the deep inhale he takes and the splutter that makes her turn to face him.

Eyes a little blurry from sleep and wine, she makes out squinted eyes, flushed face, and a frown.

“You’re drunk.” “You’re drunk.” She replies, curling closer to him. “You’ve been crying.” “Yeah.” He slips an arm around her, pulling her closer. “We’re going to feel like shit when we wake up.” “Yeah.” He chuckles, brushing lips over her forehead. “That bad?” “That bad.” She nods.

At twenty-three and twenty-four, the itch that Max has had since he was nineteen, one that’s grown worse and worse as the years have gone by, is too persistent and he takes a quick trip to his fathers house the day after she turns twenty-three and returns with a ring and the promises they made at fourteen and sixteen, promising them all over again, as she stares at him with a smile and teary eyes.

“I’d be stupid to not want to marry you Max.” She tells him when he slips the ring on her finger, breathing a sigh of relief when it goes on, fitting perfectly. “You’re going to marry me.” She nods, giggling at his blown pupils and silly grin. “Yes, I am.”

It seems stupid to be so giggly and flustered about it, so love sick, when they’ve talked about it so much. About getting married, about houses, kids, life after racing and teaching. But it’s different with the ring on her finger. Not more real or tangible. Just more.

“I know I proposed early.” She shakes her head, wrapping her arms around his neck and his arms eagerly wrap around her waist. “It’s perfect. I know we talked and had plans, but this is perfect. Besides, I’ve got news of my own that’s early.” “Oh?” Max’s eyebrow raises and he knows it’s not possible, not really with her religious use of the birth control shot and the way they mainly use condoms, more for convenience than anything else, but his eyes drift down to her abdomen that’s exposed. There’s no difference, but he can imagine what it would look like, he can also imagine what it will look like in a few hours. “Not that.” Her bottom lip is pulled between her teeth. “I got an email about my viva exam.” “Your viva? But you haven’t submitted your thesis yet.” “Actually,” “Stop.” He lifts a hand to press it against her mouth. “You submitted your thesis already? You completed it?” She nods, her laughter muffled by his hand and he drops it. “Well, what did it say? The email.” “Once I get to the ceremony, I will officially hold a doctorate in education and history.” He kisses her before she can say anything else.

“Unbelievable my love, unbelievable. Two doctorates by twenty-three.” He shakes his head, smiling wide. “You know what that means right?” He shakes his head again, unable to think of anything. Too overcome with his proudness and love for her. “I’ll have my position at Harvard right after the ceremony.” Blue eyes widen. “And they agreed to let me teach a mix schedule for all of 2022, but when the official school year starts for 2023, I’ll just be teaching digital.”

Twenty-three and twenty-five has them weathering the media storm once again as Max wins his second world championship. It’s worse this time. Not because he says more than he did last time about her or says her name or slips up and calls her his fiancee and not girlfriend like they agreed to. But because this championship no one can deny is his and she’s still not there. Too busy in a different continent with the start of the school year as she teaches by herself for the first time since earning both her doctorates.

It’s also not as bad this time, because some of his friends do think that he’s seeing someone, not the girlfriend of years, or even really a girlfriend, but just some random girl that understands he’s too busy for an actual relationship and willing to put up with him spouting to the media and everyone else that he’s in a committed relationship. She doesn’t have time to focus on the media and fans that believe she exists, she barely did last year, but this year she really doesn’t.

“You know,” she says five days after he’s won his championship and they are in the house they have stayed in for the past two years when she has to be at Harvard and he wants to join her. “Around this time next year, we’ll be public.” His face does a weird contortion at the thought. There was a giddiness to the idea, to the thought, but also dread. “That means,” she continues when Max doesn’t say anything. “That you have ample time to figure out how you want to tell people.” “How I want to?” “Yeah. This is your world, your friends, colleagues, nightmares,” she adds and they both laugh. “You can decide how exactly you want to get back at them for not believing you.” “I’m not going to be cruel.” “No.” She lifts her hand and lets her pointer finger trace over his lips. “You’ve never been a cruel person, Max. But you can be a menace.” His eyes light up at that. “Oh. And you don’t care?” She shakes her head, “This is all you and I’m more than happy to be along for the ride.”

She is twenty-four and he has just turned twenty-six when he decides to enact his plan that he came up with so many months ago.

He had made a reservation for a private hall in Monaco months ago, hired a party planner to take care of the finer details, but sorted himself out the place and the food and drinks that would be served. And the day after he turns twenty-six, he picks up the large stack of enveloped invitations he had made and carefully packs them in his suitcase for Qatar. He was winning the championship there and he’d be damned if he didn’t make an already memorable weekend even better.

It’s the first time in a decade she has traveled with him to a race to actually watch the race and not just be there at the hotel to support him as she studies and he can’t help the smugness and happiness that radiates off him when he shows up to the track for the first day.

He’s got his backpack over his shoulder, but the invitations are already in his hands, ready to be passed out.

“Max!” Charles greets when he arrives in the driver's debrief room. All twenty of them, plus reserves, team principals, and Daniel sitting and standing around as they wait for the FIA representative to get here. He looks down at his watch, noting that it will at least another ten minutes, before his eyes flicker to a member of the Red Bull staff that’s standing against a wall, but just like he asked, they’ve got a camera in their hands and there’s another one standing leaning against the opposite wall, also with a camera. “Charles. Safe flight?” “Always. What do you have there?” “Ooh,” Daniel chimes in, moving closer and looking at the envelopes in his hands. “What do you have there?” He smirks and he can see Daniel’s grin flatter at the sight for a brief second. “Invitations.” He says, before tossing or passing them around to the different drivers and Christian. He nearly avoids giving Lando one just to be a shit but Toto isn’t there to give it too and it wouldn’t be the same to give it to a different team principal jokingly.

“What is it for?” Carlos asks, eyeing the dark envelope like a lot of the other drivers are, suspiciously. He shrugs, eyebrows raising when he sees the way Lando is feeling the envelope. “Mate, I’m not giving you money.” Lando frowns, before ripping it open. “You’ve got more than enough to spare.” Seeing Lando open his, has the rest of them following suit.

“Dear friends of Max Verstappen,” George reads out and the wording earns a few snorts but he continues. “You are invited to celebrate at the” he pauses squinting at the french on the page. “The Salle des Étoiles” Charles says. “Cheers, mate. You’re invited to celebrate on the 8th of November at 4pm.” His eyebrows furrow. “Celebrate what?” Max watches from the corner of his eye as Christian flips the invitation over and nearly chokes.

“Your engagement?” “Your what?” “Engaged?” “Impossible.” “Lies.”

The whole room is filled with denial and panic and Max just smiles, nearly laughing when Logan thrusts his invitation into James’ hands and asks the team principal if it’s true.

“Max, you aren’t engaged, right? Like that was a fuck up with the print place?” Daniel is nearly pleading, begging, and Max would feel sorry, but for the past ten years he’s been telling people he isn’t single, and sure he’s never shared many details, but they all refused to believe or even consider it. He ignores him, instead looking at the room in large. “You’ll meet her tomorrow. She’s very excited about it.” And as if he planned it, the FIA official walks into the room and no one can question him.

When the meeting is over he manages to avoid all of them except for Christian, who nearly drags him into a private room.

“Is this real?” Max raises an eyebrow at the way he’s waving around the invitation but nods. “Yes.” “You’re really engaged.” “Yes, Christian. I am.” The older man stares at him, not blinking before sighing and running a hand over his face. “Is she pregnant?” “What?” “The girl you’ve been sleeping with recently. Is she pregnant, is that what this is about? Because you don’t have to marry her.” “No one is pregnant.” He reassures, not even able to find any anger for Christian and his assumption. The older man sighs again before sitting down and slumping in the chair.

“You’ve had a girlfriend since you were sixteen.” There’s regret, guilt, and sorrow in his voice. “Yes.” “And I never believed you.” He shrugs, it had hurt yes, but he had always understood Christian’s disbelief in it over anyone else's. “No.” Christian nods. “And I owe you both an apology for that. I should have believed you Max.” “Thank you.” “But really, ten years and you’ve just put a ring on it?” Max groans, rolling his eyes. “You sound like our families.”

They are twenty-four and twenty-six when Max wins his third championship, with the sprint race of all things, and the whole world watches as he’s enveloped by his team before he’s tugging off his helmet and kissing the unfamiliar girl that’s between Christian and Jos, shielded from the rough crowd of Red Bull mechanics, crew, and such. They are twenty-four and twenty-six when everyone finds out that Max had been telling the truth the whole time.

Just about a month later, she eases into the spot between Max and the arm of the couch, eagerly tucking herself closer to him when he drapes an arm over her shoulders.

“You alright?” She nods, “Yeah, Vic and Tom finally left.” Max snorts, “It only took them thirty minutes.” “A record for them.” She grins, before looking at the other people surrounding them, or rather Max. She wasn’t surprised that Max had taken to quickly grabbing a few people and secluding themselves in a corner. She was a bit surprised by the people however.

Charles and Daniel which isn’t too surprising, but there’s the three rookies of the season, Liam, Oscar, and Logan, as well, a little surprising, but nothing compared to the two Mercedes drivers also in front of her.

“You aren’t trying to get Lewis to play paddle are you?” Lewis laughs, shaking his head. “I get enough of competing with him on the track. There’s no convincing me there.” “It’s fun, Lewis.” Charles says. “You should join. George you too. Make it Mercedes versus,” he pauses, eyebrows scrunching together as he tries to think of something to call himself and Max. “Lestappen.” She offers, inching away a bit when Max pinches her side. Charles doesn’t notice the pinch, just smiles at her, before looking at the two British drivers. “Yes! Mercedes versus Lestappen.” His eyebrows then furrow. “What is Lestappen?” “Mate, you don’t want to know.” Liam tells him. Logan chuckles, “I don’t know. Either he finds out now or he finds out when he googles it later.” “Googles it.” George murmurs, mocking the American accent that Logan has. “Bloody Americans.” “Yeah, yeah, tea and crumpets.” Logan waves off Georges mocking with a grin as he looks at Charles. “It’s what people call you and Max, a nickname you could say for when you two are together.” She tells him before Logan can say anything. “Oh,” he frowns, considering. “That doesn’t sound so bad.” “It’s not.” She assures.

Before anyone can say anything else, someone joins their group, eyes focusing on her.

“Dr. Y/L/N, congratulations on your engagement.” She looks at the older man in surprise before quickly standing to shake his hand. “Toto, a pleasure to see you again. And please you don’t need to call me doctor.” Toto smiles, tilting his head forwards, conceding as she sits back down. “Doctor?” Daniel questions, eyes flitting between her and the Mercedes team principal, not sure of what to make of the interaction, though Max seems perfectly fine with it. She presses her lips together and she can feel Max move a bit closer as Toto’s eyes narrow at Max. “Yes.” She tells Daniel and the rest. “I managed to get both of my doctorates last year.” A few jaws drop and Lewis whistles. “And I thought you were just a teacher.” Toto’s looking at her now, with narrowed eyes and she sighs.

It would be just her luck that despite having just met the man once, that one time had resulted in a long conversation after he gave his guest lecture at Harvard.

“You told them you're a teacher.” “I told them I teach.” She corrects. “Let's not make a big deal out of it.” “I want to make a big deal out of it.” Max mumbles and she sends him a pleading look. But Max doesn’t give in, instead he turns to the rest of them. “She’s a professor at Harvard. She got both her doctorates at twenty-three and quickly was signed on as professor.” “So, what you’re saying,” Oscar starts, breaking the silence that has fallen over the group. “Is that she is way too smart for you?” Max laughs, eyes crinkling and body bending forward from the force of it. “Without a doubt, mate. Without a doubt.”

@cixrosie @darleneslane @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @fanboyluvr @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @benstormy @iloveyou3000morgan @copper-boom @boiohboii @topguncultleader

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine

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chosok-amo · 5 months

Text

i dare you, ryomen sukuna

you want to break up with your boyfriend, ryomen sukuna, so he dares you to say that to his face

nswf! sukuna x reader, slut, whore mentioned, chocked, over-stimulated reader

You nervously leaned against the pantry table in your kitchen. One of your hands rested on your other hand which was curled over your stomach— you bit your nails. Your eyes focused on the flat object on the table in front of you. Many times you put your hand up to take the object but your intention was stopped a second later— you continued like that for a while until you finally decided to make up your mind. With a slight tremor, your finger presses something, producing a ringing sound.

sukuna :

yes, babydoll?

You were silent for a moment when you heard the deep voice of your lover, Ryomen Sukuna. Your guts suddenly shrink and your body fills with adrenaline. You bit your bottom lip and remained silent for a moment. Your head was spinning at what you had been thinking about the last few weeks. You no longer want to be in this toxic relationship. You were tired of fighting with Sukuna, spending your tears crying over him. You're tired of his big ego and his attitude. You're tired of your lover. So you sighed and made up your mind again.

you :

let's break up

Silence for a moment from across there. Your chest was pounding as you waited for a response from your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend. You only heard Sukuna's heavy breathing before a mocking chuckle was heard. He's always like that, always never taking you seriously. He always chuckles, laughs mockingly and looks at you as if you are the stupidest and funniest person in the world.

sukuna :

say that to my face y/n, I fucking dare you

you :

I'm done with you, I want to break up

"Are you sure?"

You quickly raised your head when you heard Sukuna's voice only to find him standing not far across from you with a cell phone in his left hand pressed to his ear and in the other hand you could see several paper bags with well-known brands. He put his cell phone in the pocket of the trousers he was wearing and stepped closer. You pulled your lips straight as you lowered your phone and placed it on the pantry table. Sukuna was standing across from you— your bodies were blocked by a fairly large pantry table.

As usual, his pink hair was neatly styled, showing off his forehead. Tattoos adorn his handsome face which now looks expressionless. You corrected your posture and stood up straight. Your head is straight ahead looking at your lover confidently— at least try to look confident so that your lover knows that you mean it. But Sukuna can see you like an open book. He can read all your movements as if he had been studying you for decades.

“You know there's no breaking up in this relationship, y/n,” he said.

You rolled your eyes. “I can't deal with you any longer, Sukuna. I'm tired of your bullshit,” you say. You looked at him lazily and crossed your arms in front of your chest. Sukuna raised an eyebrow as he looked at you. Slowly he stepped towards you and stopped when he was standing behind you. “If you are tired then take a nap,” he whispered into your ear from behind. His hands held your arms gently but firmly.

His skin touching yours sent a tingle of excitement and you held your breath as the heat from Sukuna's breath hit your bare neck. You gripped the pantry with both hands and closed your eyes as Sukuna pressed his lips to your shoulder. “N-no, I don't want to take a nap, I—” You try to move your body away from Sukuna who has now pushed the front of his body to the back of your body— until you can feel his bulge being pushed against your ass which is only covered in white lace underwear.

Before you had time to move away, Sukuna quickly cupped both of your breasts. You only wear a lilac crop top without a bra. Sukuna's big hands gently squeezed your breasts from under the t-shirt you were wearing. "What do you want baby? Tell me," he whispered in your ear in a low voice. A soft moan came out of your mouth as his two index fingers moved in circles on your protruding nipples. Sukuna knows all too well how that has always been your weakness. Your body leaned against Sukuna's hard-rock chest. With your eyes closed you stammered trying to answer, "I.. I want to- Ah!" You let out a small scream when Sukuna harshly pinched your nipple.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

You could feel him smirk at his tone. He sounded like he really enjoyed what he was doing to you. Sukuna's hands wildly played with your breasts and nipples— squeezing and pinching them. "Tell me, sweetheart. What do you want? I'm all ears," he teased as he licked behind your ear which succeeded in making your legs weaken and a delicious moan escaped your mouth. Hearing this, Sukuna grinned even more happily. You bit your bottom lip in hopes of holding back the moan that was forcing its way out. You moaned when Sukuna's hand slowly came down and pressed his finger firmly on your clitoris which was starting to swell.

"Already wet for me? You're such a slut, y/n, I barely touched you," he said. His long middle finger trailed across your folds, running them up and down. Sukuna's one hand was busy playing with your breasts while the other was busy with your pussy. You threw your head back, onto Sukuna's shoulder as he in gentle, sensual circular movements touched your clitoris, you felt very sensitive to his touch at the moment. Makes you unable to properly digest what is happening and you almost no longer remember what you said to your previous lover.

"S-sukuna.."

"Yes, my lady?"

Sukuna kissed your shoulders and neck alternately. He bites your neck in small pieces, sucks, and licks it until he leaves kiss marks everywhere. You know what he's doing— marking you, so you don't forget who you belong to. "Stop.. ah- Sukuna.. I want to—ah!" Sukuna didn't let you finish what you wanted to say as he quickly moved his finger on your pussy. Your body is filled with pleasures that only your boyfriend can give you.

“Talk to me, y/n,” he said, teasing you.

"I want to break up with you, for fuck sake!"

You took a sharp breath and tried to pull Sukuna's hand away from you. But he quickly took both of your hands— grabbed both of your wrists with one hand and pushed you against the pantry table until your chest was pressed against the cold surface. "Fuck, y/n. You never understand, do you?" he asked, now starting to look a little annoyed. He held your hands behind your back- trapping you so you couldn't move. "Guess I need to remind you who you belong to now, y/n. I hope this time it gets through that pretty little head of yours," he said. So with one pull Sukuna removed your panties and ruined them.

"Ah!"

Sukuna slapped your ass hard, leaving redness there. You groaned in pain but Sukuna knew very well that you were enjoying it. He touched your thigh which was soaked with your own fluids. “Fuck, y/n..” he whispered to himself as he felt how wet you were. One of his free hands squeezed his penis which was now very hard from outside his trousers. Sukuna let out a sigh of pleasure before he pulled your hair until your head fell back. He inserted two fingers into your mouth from behind. “Suck,” he commands which you spontaneously go down on. You sucked his long finger, playing with your tongue there. "Such a whore, aren't you, my lady?" He said when he felt the warmth of your dirty mouth on his fingers.

Sukuna withdrew his fingers, placed one hand on your back and without further ado he inserted both fingers into your pussy, making you moan. His fingers slide in and out of your pussy, your supple walls hugging Sukuna's fingers. “S-sukuna.. please,” you moaned as you felt his fingers slowly stop moving. "What is it, y/n?" he asked. You swallowed hard, no longer concerned with your common sense, you just wanted to feel the pleasure your lover gave you. “I want to cum..” you whined pathetically.

“I can't hear you, y/n,” Sukuna said.

“Please, baby.. I want to cum, I want to feel your cock inside me,—” you cried. You feel like you can't take it anymore. Your body seemed to have a mind of its own and Sukuna's touch seemed to be a remote control. Sukuna chuckled evilly and he took his fingers out of your pussy. He eagerly undid the belt he was wearing before taking off his trousers and boxers alternately. You groaned when you felt Sukuna's long, thick, hardened cock slap against your ass.

“Fuck y/n! feel so good, always tight for me,” Sukuna moans while throwing his head back. Your body arches because of the pleasure as Sukuna inches by inches pushes himself inside you. Both of his large hands gripped your hips as your gummy wall hugged his long, thick-veined cock, sucking him to go further until the head touched your womb. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! your cunt hugs me so well, baby. Oh, god!” He keeps pushing until he's bottomed out.

“N-no, Sukuna— Ah.. too big, I-I can't—” Your hands moved behind you trying to push away Sukuna's body. You felt full— your body felt full of Sukuna's big cock. Sukuna shook his head and held your hand so you couldn't push him away. “Shh baby, don't say that, I know you can take me,” He shot gently. He pulled your body until your back touched his chest. One hand touched your tummy and the other grabbed your chin, guiding your face to look back. He pressed his lips to yours.

Passionately, he kissed you. He kissed your bottom lip, occasionally biting it there. Slowly he moves his hips in and out of you. He kissed your lips making your moans echo in his mouth, and vice versa with Sukuna. He bit your bottom lip again and pulled it between his teeth before kissing you again—this time with his tongue. He kissed you until you were out of breath and pulled your face away from him. A string of saliva connected between your tongue and his as both your mouths opened— trying to catch your breath.

Sukuna looked at your face with a happy heart and got more hornier. Just like he wanted— you were too fucked up to make sense of yourself. He saw how your cheeks were red, your lips parted to let out a dirty sigh, your eyelids almost closed. This is the effect it has on your body. He loves the idea he has of you so much that he is so crazy about it, just like he is so crazy about you. So with that Sukuna slammed his dick into your pussy so hard it made you gasp.

His hands roughly grabbed your neck, gripping it and pulling your face closer until your face was next to his. One of Sukuna's hands went down to your pussy. His finger found your clitoris again and rubbed it hard making your legs shake. “N-no, Sukuna— ah! please..” Sukuna ignored your moans and continued rubbing your clit until you couldn't take it anymore and released your juice, covering the pantry walls, you, and him. Sukuna smiled with satisfaction, “That's right slut, cum for me, feel good, hm? do you like it, y/n? Do you like it when I make you cum like a pretty little slut you are?” He talks dirty in your ear so sensually. Making your overstimulated cunt begging for more.

“Answer me, you slut!” He slapped your sensitive cunt making you yelp with pleasure. “Y-yes, I—” You can't continue with what you're about to say because Sukuna one more time pounds his cock roughly to your cunt. You can feel tears stream down your face because of how much pain yet pleasure you feel in your body. Sukuna brings you to cloud nine, making you want more. “Kuna, please.. f-faster, more, more, ah— please,” you begged.

Sukuna threw you a mocking chuckle as he gripped your neck tightly. He can feel your moan in his palm hand. “You want to break up with me yet here you are begging for more. Can't get enough of my cock aren't you, hm? You're such a slut, y/n, you're my slut,” he whispered his last sentence in your ear as he erotically bit your ear and licked it. He slowed down and pulled his cock out of your sloppy cunt. You let out a voice of protest and move your hips— looking for his cock, getting more needy the second you can't feel his cock. “Be patient and tell me that you want to break up with me,” he said to you.

You shake your head, “Please, kuna, fuck me, I want you,” you beg, shamelessly. You pushed your ass to Sukuna, hoping his gonna put his cock back at your horny cunt. Sukuna smirked, knowing damn well he got you in his finger, you never get enough of him, of his cock, that's for sure. Slowly, he pushed his still-hard cock back to your cunt. “Tell me, baby, tell me how much you want me to fuck you,” he whispered. You close your eyes and part your lips as you feel your cunt being full of Sukuna's thick cock again. “I want your cock— fuck! I want you to fill me in, I love you kuna,” you whispered without realising it, too fuck up to think straight.

The last sentence is enough for Sukuna to fuck you to oblivion. So he pushes your body back to the cold surface of the pantry. With one rough pound, his cock is fully inside your cunt. His swelling cock bullying your overstimulated cunt. “Now you know who you belong to, every time you ask for break up, I'm gonna fuck you so hard until you lost your mind and only remember I good I made you feel. How you being such a slut for this cock and taking me so well,” keeps pounding his cock to you. And Sukuna doesn't plan to stop anytime soon. He had a whole night to remind you that there is no breaking up in your relationship with him. You had no other choice, it's not like you don't enjoy being fuck by your boyfriend anyway.

#ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna #sukuna smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #satoru gojo smut #toji fushiguro smut #sukuna x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #gojo satoru

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darlingbabyboo · 10 months

Text

"Baby, you're my whore!"

♡ Tokyo Revengers characters and their bimbo girlfriends ♡

Ken Ryuguji (Draken)

It has been said before and I will be one of the people to say it again

Definition of dress slutty: I can fight

Growing up in a brothel (with women that made sure that he was drinking his respect women juice everyday) he lets you dress however you please

Your skirt might be too short for his comfort, but as long as you feel comfortable and satiated, he's gonna bite his tongue

Who is he, to mess with what the love of his life wants?

On your stupidity

He's been hanging out with dumbasses all his life, if his baby happens to be a bit of a dumb fuck, he won't say a thing

He also thinks that you're absolutely adorable when you look at him with question in your eyes and say the most idiotic things known to man

A bit exasperating

But moreso adorable

"Kenny." He hums to show you that he's listening and continues fixing up his motorcycle. "What's the matter angel?"

"Why doesn't hair grow at the side of your head." He blinks and looks back at you, genuine wonder in your eyes. He sighs, and presses his forehead against the cool of his bike.

"Kenny, are you okay!?" He feels your arms wrap around his shoulders and your weight begin to press against him. You're ridiculous, but he loves you so much it hurts. He couldn't imagine a life without you around.

"'s nothing angel, don't worry your pretty head about it."

Takemichi Hanagaki (Takemitchy)

He's weak to you okay, he loves your short skirts that barely cover up your panties and your tight shirts that show off your lace bra's (if you even wear one some days)

You can say the dumbest shit or do the stupidest things and he'll be nodding along like a little puppy dog

Is it so wrong to be completely in love with your girlfriend? He worships you like a god and how dare anyone have the nerve to blame him?

You see the world in a way that he could never imagine, and you open his eyes to a world of possibilities

He just believes that he's lucky that you two are even together, you're beautiful and kind and even if there's not a lot going on in your head, you're the best girl that he's ever known

He just wants to be with you forever

You jump into his open arms, your arms wrapping around his neck and his automatically enclose around your waist. "Sweetie, I got a 40% on my test?" You say, cheerfully.

"W-what? I'm sorry. I know you studied hard for that."

"What?" You crock your head to the side and look at him with confusion in your eyes, "no, all I need is another 40% and then I'll be at an 80% average!"

Takemichi opens his mouth to say something, mainly, what in the world would make you think that, and how the hell do you think averages work? Instead, he shakes his head and gives a soft smile. He loves how you see the world, no matter how ridiculous it is, though he's going to need to talk to you about how grades work. He squeezes your waist, "I believe in you Sweetheart."

Takashi Mitsuya

He supports your endeavours, he even encourages them!

You want to wear a skirt that shows off your panties, sure! Just let him make a few adjustments and- while we're at it, why doesn't he just bedazzle that top too!

He wants the best for his darling, which means that you're going to be wearing things fit for a queen

It's in his nature to spoil his girl, so don't worry your pretty little head about any of the gorgeous clothes that you want, he's already on it

Though, there's not a lot going in your pretty little head, which he doesn't necessarily mind

He doesn't care if you stay the stupidest shit imaginable

You look at him with so much love and admiration in your eyes that he can't find it in him to worry too much about you

"Taka! This is so cute!" You spin around in your skirt, which raises above the lace panties that he also handmade for you. "Too bad about the people living in olden times." You pout.

Mitsuya walks up to you with a raised brow at your words. He wraps his hands around your waist, trying to think about what you could possibly mean. "Why, my love?" He finally bites.

You go on your tiptoes and press a kiss on his cheek, leaving behind a glittery mark. "They had to live in black and couldn't see all these pretty colours, like the clothes you make for me!"

Mitsuya nods along to your words, smile already pulling up at your words. He presses a kiss on your forehead. "That's not how it works my love."

You look at him with so much love and admiration in your eyes, expecting him to explain everything to you. He smiles, brushing his thumb against your cheek. He's so hopelessly in love with you.

Keisuke Baji

He adores harlots, whores, and anything else of the variety!

He loves the dumb, hazy look in your eyes when you come across something "complicated" (first time he's the smart one in a relationship)

Loves the things you dress up, encourages you to dress however you want, you know what, get even sluttier! He wants your skirt to be so short that your panties show when you stretch the tiniest bit, shirts so tight that you can't wear a bra

He loves his babygirl, and everyone's free to take a look at you

As long as they remember that you belong to him

"Babe, what's wrong?" You question as Baji grips his hands around yours and growls. You press a kiss to his lips as you try to calm him down. Greedily, he bites your bottom lip and deepens the kiss, hands on your ass.

"Asshole was flirting with my pretty girl. Hate when people try to touch what's mine."

You start to tear up, thinking he's angry with you, "sorry baby, I didn't know!"

"Nonono," He presses his lips against you harder, adoring the way that your red lipstick will leave behind marks on his lips, "not your fault- never your fault. Jus' means we gotta set his car on fire." You nod in understanding, not thinking twice of his act of violence. He gives you a wide, toothy grin, he doesn't think that he could love someone more.

Nahoya Kawata (Smiley)

Definition of a tease

He doesn't care how you dress (one of the people that really adores how you dress and would appreciate you to get even sluttier). You could wear a bra and a thong outside and he wouldn't bat an eye.

He just loves making fun for how naïve you can be.

"C'mon, one kiss!"

"No!" You huff, crossing your arms and facing your back to him, "'m 100% loyal to 'hoya."

He restrains his laugh, biting down on his lip. "Baby, I am Nahoya!" He manages to force out (though some giggles slip his lips).

"No! You said you were Souya! 'm not gonna fall for your tricks!"

You already are he desperately wants to say, but he's having too much fun messing with you. "Well, now I'm saying I'm Nahoya."

He doesn't need to look your way to know that your brows have furrowed deeper, trying to run through things in your small little head. "No! I'm not a cheater."

He sucks his teeth. His stomach's gonna hurt with how much he's gonna be laughing later. He turns you around and presses a quick kiss against your lips, you giving an indignant gasp at the action. You'll probably be whining about this later, when he explains what's going on, but this was worth it. God, you're a keeper.

Yasuhiro Muto (Mucho)

Not someone who loves the way you dress, wouldn't disapprove of it completely, he would never tell you how to do things or what clothes to wear, but he subtly encourages you to wear something else

It doesn't come from a bad place, he's just protective of you and doesn't want you to get harassed (he's also a bit traditional)

If you're determined to wear what you want, then he'll bend to your will. He would never let you be uncomfortable

He'll get used to things, just for you

Your intelligence, though...

He loves you through and through but he's always on the look-out around you. He has to make sure that no one is taking advantage of your innocence

"What's going on here?" The guys crowding you stutter away, looking at him with wide eyes. You don't notice the fear that has blanketed them and beam at him, running to wrap your arms around his waist.

"'hiro. These guys are asking if I want to hang out with them in, do you want to come with us?"

He purses his lips, yet another group of guys preying on your naivety. "No darling, I think we're going to go, I'm sure that these guys understand." He narrows his eyes at them so that they understand the consequences if they try to stay around you. They get the message, scurrying away like rats they are. You look at them with a pout on your lips, not aware of their dark intentions. He cups the side of your face and turns you towards him, "darling, why don't we see a movie at home." Your frown quickly disappears, a wide smile replacing it.

"That sounds great 'hiro!"

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ghouljams · 10 months

Note

Of course Bee cracked first! What I don’t think she realizes is that she cracked open the flood gates. Wanna see my man Konig run full steam ahead

König's wraps his arms around you, his big body pressing against your back as nicely as his lips press against your neck. It's chaste and gentle and terribly distracting. You let out a shuddering breath, tipping your head to give him room. You haven't seen his face since you first stumbled into his pasture, and now all you can feel is the soft plush if his lips, the rough stubble on his jaw, the warmth of him. You're supposed to be cooking.

It's the same washing up after dinner. König's arms around you, his teeth starting to tease against your neck. You abandon the dishes to queue up a movie on the couch before your legs can give out. Though you're sure if they did König would keep you up.

You barely get the movie on before König is on you. His big hands hold your face as he kisses you, pulling you closer until you're balanced with a hand on his thigh, halfway in his lap. He picks up right where you left off in the kitchen, licking into your mouth and coaxing you to do the same. You close your lips around his tongue and suck, earning a low groan from König.

That seems to be invitation enough for him to finish pulling you into his lap, dropping a hand from your face to wrap around your waist and hold you close. You let out a breath at just how... big he feels like this. König takes full advantage of your parted lips, breathing you in as his fingers slide against your neck, thumb rubbing at your jaw.

"Braves Mädchen," He murmurs in a voice far too low and tender for a man who had his tongue in your mouth. You know that one, and you know that the fingers pushing up under your shirt coupled with it only goes one direction.

"You have to go home after the movie," you tell him. König hums and kisses you again, filthy, greedy, absolutely ignoring the fact that he isn't allowed to stay the night. A fact you nearly ignore yourself when his fingers dip bellow your waistband just as the credits roll. You're breathing heavy as he sucks bruises on your neck, holding onto his broad shoulders for dear life as he drags his tongue over the abused skin.

"König you have to go," you push at his shoulders, hoping that gets your point across.

"Then you need to get off of me hummelchen, or not even God will be able stop me from fucking you," the low growl in his voice threatens to melt your resolve almost as much as the way he grinds his hips up against you makes your eyes roll back. Fuck, is that his cock? You don't think you've ever even seen one that feels as big as that. God, maybe he can stay the night...

No, no, stay strong. You need time to freak the fuck out over kissing your closest friend before jumping into bed with him. Even if you could just get a little taste of... No. Bad. You scold yourself, and do your best to not eat absolute shit rushing to get off of König's lap. When you finally put some space between you he sighs like the weight of the world has been placed on his shoulders.

You tear your eyes off of him as he stands and adjusts himself. Trying to offer a smidgen of privacy to the man making your mouth water. You clear your throat and follow König to the door to lock up behind him. Hoping that the solid barrier will stop your mind from realing over the way he said 'fucking' like a punch to the gut. Fuck this is the stupidest thing you have ever done and you've done a lot of stupid things.

"I'm tired of holding back little bee," he tells you at the door, leaning down to kiss you a final time before he grabs his hat off the rack and settles it on his head, "next time, I won't."

"I'll wear something pretty." You tell him, trying to think of any reason to let him go.

"You always do." He closes the door for you, and you- well you're just positively fucked aren't you?

#cowboy!König #könig x reader #könig x you #oc: bee #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #bee: haha im in danger #get it könig you deserve it #könig you left your bandana on the kitchen floor #its gonna make your day real hard when bee's wearing it the next time you see her

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starglitterz · 2 years

Text

♡ NEED TO KNOW.

pretty boys without a shirt… that's it that's the post

✧ feat ; cyno, scaramouche, tighnari, xiao x gn!reader

✧ warning(s) ; suggestive, may be ooc

✧ a/n ; apologies for being a slut on main, it will happen again. hope you like this ! unrelated but i listened to the instrumental for baby by madison beer the entire time i was writing this so here's the link if you'd like to hear it while reading :>

please reblog + leave comments ! it helps a lot :)

✦ CYNO. [ judicator of secrets ]

general mahamatra is renowned for never slacking off, and his unexpected arrival at the doorsteps of scholars often bodes ill for the researchers in question. but that has never been the case for you, his lover, who has come to look forward to his surprise visits.

“i should get back to work, you know,” cyno murmurs against your lips, though the way his strong arms are holding your hips tightly in place on his lap seems to convey quite the opposite. “shouldn’t i be the one saying that?” you smile, threading your hands through his messy mane of white hair, “after all, you were the one who came here under the guise of a medical check-up.” he makes a noise of dissent, nuzzling into your neck where he proceeds to press a storm of kisses, “it wasn’t a disguise, it’s true!” “oh, is that so?” you can’t help but laugh, “what were your symptoms?” cyno pulls away from your skin, where you’re certain he’s left more thtan a few bruises, and gives you the stupidest grin ever, “i was lovesick!” you snort, and he beams, “that was a good one, wasn’t it?” “shut up and just kiss me, dumbass,” you flick his forehead, “your kisses are better than your jokes.” “low blow,” he whines, and you��re struck by his duality between the persona he displays to the world and how he behaves in private. “but it is a wish i’m willing to indulge,” he continues, tilting your chin up to him.

your hands travel up his torso, and you can feel him stiffen under your touch, reclining to give you more access to him. “imagine if someone walked in,” he laughs, though it’s a breathless laugh as you trace circles across his skin, “general mahamatra and the chief healer fooling around like teenagers.” “no, i’ll let them know this is just routine,” you wink, “like how i’m checking your pulse right now.” without warning, you lean down and press your ear against his chest as if to hear his heartbeat directly. cyno freezes and you smile, lifting one hand to caress his face, “i can feel your heart getting faster and faster.” he sighs, trying to regain his composure to the best of his ability, “guess you’re leading me to an early grave.” “oh dear, that’s a shame,” you pretend to be sad, “i think you'll have to extend your stay here so i can fix that.” “ah, a shame indeed,” cyno’s red eyes laser in on yours, and you find yourself amazed at the intensity of his stare, “i’ll be entirely in your care.” “perhaps i might even cure your lovesickness,” you tease, and he smirks before tugging you closer for another kiss, “we’ll see about that.”

✦ SCARAMOUCHE. [ kunikuzushi ]

scaramouche is electric.

not just because of the electro delusion he wields so effortlessly, but more so because of the way the very air around him crackles with potential and power. perhaps it is because he was sculpted by divinity itself that his fingertips tingle with the electricity coursing through his veins, and gives him this voltaic aura which shines through even when he is doing the most mundane of tasks.

right now is no exception as he gazes at his reflection - he still looks so pretty. “you really did a number on me,” scaramouche groans, though you can hear the tinge of pride in his voice as he looks at the messy constellation of lovebites strewn across his neck and collarbone. you stroll up behind him after clambering out of bed, stepping over the discarded clothes from last night and letting your arms snake around his waist, “aw, i’m sorry.” “you don’t sound apologetic in the slightest,” scaramouche scoffs, even as his hand envelops yours with warmth. “yeah, that was a lie,” you smirk, leaning closer to whisper in his ear, “i’m not sorry at all.” “that sounds more like you,” he chuckles, though his breath hitches when your palm splays across his abdomen.

scaramouche is always wound tight like a coiled spring, always on edge, always ready to attack at the first sign of danger. and with you around to push his buttons in more ways than one, he swears he’s learned to tense up the second you touch his skin - it sets him aflame. his indigo irises stray to the sight of the two of you in the mirror, and he swallows because he knows you’ve got him wrapped around your little finger. “you’re so cute, i love you,” you giggle, pressing featherlight kisses in a trail along his bare shoulder. “shut up,” his face feels far hotter than it should at your easy compliments which never seem to make sense; who else would have the audacity to call the balladeer ‘cute’? but maybe that’s precisely the reason why he adores you, and he mumbles, “i love you too.” “love me enough to skip your meeting today?” “nope.” “it was worth a shot.”

✦ TIGHNARI. [ verdant strider ]

it is rare for tighnari to spend the night at home thanks to his duties as chief forest watcher, but tonight he has, and you’re planning to make the most of it.

your hands skate over your lover’s skin, pressing down in all the right areas to help massage the tension out of his aching muscles. he isn’t as broadly built as some of the other forest rangers, but he has his own strengths hidden underneath the many layers he wears daily. in fact, you can practically feel his muscles rippling under your touch right now.

“i think you’re overworking yourself, darling,” you say, continuing your work as the scent of harra fruit oil fills the air. it’s a late cloudy night, and the only light outside comes from the distant lamps illuminating avidya forest. he’s silent, quieter than usual, and you’re worried that you’ve overstepped his boundaries. but then his ears twitch and he looks at you, “what?” a teasing smile curves your lips as you realise what just happened - tighnari was so happy about you massaging him that he totally spaced out. he recognises your trademark smirk and sighs, “don’t even think about it.” “c’mon, you have to admit it’s funny when your ears are so big but you still didn’t hear!” you giggle, and he turns away without answering, jutting his lower lip out in a pout.

“nooo, wait, i’m sorry,” you can’t help the note of amusement that slips into your tone, so you shuffle closer from how you’re sitting on your knees to wrap your arms around his bare torso. resting your chin on his shoulder, you blow on his ear, “tighnari~” his expression doesn’t change, but his ears and tail give him away this time, so you laugh, tilting his chin to face you before surprising him with a kiss, “that means i’m super duper sorry.” “hmph,” tighnari pretends to glare at you for a second before his eyes soften and he smiles, “you’re going to need to give me a lot more kisses before i leave again tomorrow for me to forgive you.” “you don’t need to ask me twice, and i’ll add in a bonus massage for your ears too!” “just admit you want to touch my ears.” “alright fine, that may have been my ulterior motive but i swear it’s also because i love you.” “i know, love, i know.”

✦ XIAO. [ vigilant yaksha ]

adepti do not require sleep to function normally, and right now xiao is so incredibly thankful for that fact because with how you’re acting, there’s no way either of you are getting any sleep tonight.

your fingertips skirt across the plane of his back, etching every dip and curve of his body into your memory, doodling absent patterns and swirls on his skin and leaving a trail of heat in your wake. it’s been a few minutes of this, and xiao doesn’t think he can take it for much longer. “i know you’re awake, xiao,” you move closer, nuzzling into his back and making a shiver run down his spine. he hums in reply before turning around to face you, amber irises boring into yours with the affectionate gaze he reserves for you and you alone. your eyes widen slightly when you see his face, and he raises an eyebrow, “what is it?” “nothing… you’re just so pretty,” your voice drops to a whisper, treating this moment like something sacred as if it would be blasphemous to speak even a decibel louder.

“what?” xiao has never even imagined that anybody would call him, a celestial being who’s convinced himself he is worth nothing except as a weapon for bloodshed, ‘pretty’. but coming from you, it sounds just right, especially when you cup his cheek, thumb caressing his skin softly. your other hand tangles in the jade streaks of his hair before slipping down to his stomach, tracing a thin line up his torso. xiao is made of lean muscle that freezes under your touch, and you can feel the strength he possesses thumping like a heartbeat under his skin as you trace the emerald tattoo on his bicep.

“i’m serious!” you laugh, and the sound makes xiao so happy his heart threatens to burst out of his chest. weaving your arms around his neck, you tug him impossibly closer, pressing your lips to his before pulling away with a smile, “love you.” “love you too,” xiao manages to reply even though his head is spinning and his cheeks are on fire, but the only thing he can focus on is asking, “can i kiss you again?” “as many times as you want, pretty boy.”

stop wtf why are they so hot... i need them NOW. // general masterlist

#✏️ — quill writes !#genshin impact x reader #cyno x reader #tighnari x reader #xiao x reader #scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader #cyno genshin impact #cyno fluff #tighnari fluff #tighnari genshin #xiao fluff #xiao scenarios #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche genshin impact #cw suggestive

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crybaby-bkg · 10 months

Text

cw: pregnancy, kids (you guys have a daughter together), fwb’s, angst with a bit of a hopeful ending, refers to you as ‘girl’ once

Friends with benefits Bakugou who never really got over his ego to fully commit to you. You’re a little ashamed to admit it, but when you fell pregnant, you thought that things would change. That the whole “no feelings” aspect would’ve been dropped, that he would’ve embraced you fully.

But he just…didn’t? If anything, he distanced himself away from you, became so formal like you were another coworker he would address. It was heartbreaking, going through your first pregnancy feeling so, so alone, but having to grin and bear it the whole way through.

He supported you though in every way that he could. He never missed an appointment, would trek to your house during late nights whenever you craved something. He even moved you in to his own apartment during your last trimester, but a couple months after your baby was born, you went back home. You never felt unwelcome, but you couldn’t pretend to be a happy family when he slept in the guest room every night.

So now, you coparent quite easily. At least, it seems easy to Bakugou, but really, it’s all a facade.

In all honesty? He thinks he’s a fuck up. An idiot. The stupidest, shittiest person who’s ever existed.

He thought what he was doing was enough, that the words he didn’t say carried across oceans, formulated into titles that he never verbalized. So when you told him you would be happy to coparent, his world felt upended suddenly, as he holds his tiny little baby girl in his arms.

Coparent? How could a couple coparent? Where did he go wrong? (He only slept in the guest room to give you and baby space, only moved you in late because you lived so far away and you were getting so big. He never said I love you because he was too embarrassed to say it out loud. He didn’t know he had to say it out loud to solidify it. He thought you just knew.)

So it’s why his heart breaks when he catches a glimpse of curly blond hair and red eyes in the grocery store. He tries to duck behind an aisle, but his baby would recognize him anywhere. (It’s true; you’ve sent many videos of her recognizing him on billboards and tv commercials and magazines.)

“Bakugou?” You call, ducking around the corner to catch a glimpse of him. He tries to act nonchalant like he’s looking at cans of soup, tries not to cringe at your formal name. He turns when you come into view, eyes drinking in your attire. His heart breaks a little when he recognizes the shirt you took in your second trimester, still has the pic you sent him of you grinning as you show off what you stole.

“Hey.” Bakugou greets gruffly, mouth pulled tight, but it cracks into a grin when his daughter starts squealing. She’s in the front part of the shopping cart, twisting her little chunky body to get out and get to him. She damn near screams when he sets his basket down to pick her up, rubbing his nose to hers.

“How ya doing, squirt?” He asks quietly, pecking at her chubby cheeks as she instantly starts babbling to him. He holds her close to his chest, eyes full of pure love for his baby girl, and it makes your heart squeeze so tight you think it might burst.

“This isn’t your neck of the woods.” You mutter, head tilting to the side as you take in your daughters excited face to see her father. Bakugou’s eyes snap to your own, letting his daughter play with his fingers in the meanwhile. He looks embarrassed, cheeks a dusty pink as he grumbles and looks away.

“I was just picking up some stuff to drop off for her. Was gonna text you and see if you were home,” he replies, and something tells you that it’s a lie. But you don’t pester him about it, just nod a few times, taking in the sight.

He looks so good like that, in his compression shirt and sweats, his hair mussed from your daughters incessant pulling. He’s grinning at her, but looks so bashful when he turns to you, like he’s thinking about things he knows he shouldn’t, like he has a boatload to say but can’t cough up.

And if you were a mind reader, you’d be so fucking right. He can’t help but reminisce on before you got pregnant, the nights spent with you. The day you told him you were having a girl, the tears you cried when you delivered her. He thinks, filled with so much guilt the entire time, that he wants another one. With you.

“‘S it okay if I walk my favorite girls home?” He asks you gruffly, nibbling on your daughters cheeks to hear her giggle again, uncaring of the drool she leaves on his hand. You feel your eyes widen at his term for you, face suddenly flushing. Favorite? You, his favorite?

Something tells you that you shouldn’t fall down the rabbit hole that is Bakugou Katsuki and his suppressed emotions and shitty ego. But there’s another something that tells you to trust it this time, to let things happen organically and without expectation. So you do.

“I’m sure she would love to show her daddy the new toy her grandma just brought her.” You tell him, giggling when he rolls his eyes at the mention of his mother. But he walks with you the entire time you finish up your grocery order, holding your daughter the whole time and pays for your groceries despite repeatedly telling him that he doesn’t have to.

He pushes her in the stroller stored underneath the shopping cart on the way home, making small conversation. And when you’re halfway home, does he reach for your hand. Only to cross the cross walk though, he tells himself, only for your protection. But he doesn’t let go until you’re in your own place, and even then, he’s close by the entire time. He helps you put away groceries, remembers where everything is like he lives here.

And for some reason, the familiarity makes your heart ache a little more than you would like it to.

#full of sadness tonight srry #but I’m obsessed with this idea actually #I wanna expand on it even more in a fic #I don’t like to write angst for him but this idea is just :(#he’s so shitty at communicating his feelings and you hate assuming things #so many things are just left unsaid for so long that you just force yourself to get over it and move on #and he’s so confused and so angry that you could leave him like that #but he never had you in the first place now did he?#ohh it makes me wanna sob #obviously in the end you get back together and have 98 more kids 🙄#but the journey along the way is RUFF #okay I’m done writing my wrist hurts lol #bakugou treats! 🍬#—new treat in the streets! 🍫#dad bkg

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gojos-thot-patrol · 10 months

Text

Now Presenting...

Starring: A Love-Sick Nanami Kento

Synopsis:You and Nanami have been friends for benefits for quite a while now, with no issue! At least, no issue as far as you knew. Kento's caught feelings for you though, and even though he knows he should stay away and get over this crush, he simply can't ignore your 1:45 am "You Up?" text.

Warning: This fic is a drabble containing angst (if ya squint), fluff, and is really just smut with some plot thrown in. Rating NC17, Reader Discretion is advised ;)

Oh, and if you'd like, why not check out my Masterlist?

Nanami was awake again. It was 1:45 in the morning, and he was awake. Fuck. He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. He wondered if he should just give up the fight; accept that he was just going to be tired in the morning and indulge his Netflix binging demons. He sighed in defeat, grabbing the remote. Before he could turn anything on though, his phone vibrated next to him. He grabbed it before his brain could fully register what he was doing.

It was 1:45 in the morning. Only one person in the world was going to text him at 1:45 in the morning. He checked his messages and yep. Just as he was expecting.

One New Message from Darling: hey, you awake?

Nanami was pretty sure he was worth more than a generic “You Up” text. In fact, He knew he was. And he knew that responding to that text was the worst possible thing he could do at that moment. He wanted far more out of this than she ever would. Catching feelings was probably the second stupidest thing a person could do, preceded only by continuing to sleep with the person you have one sided feelings for. He wouldn’t do that to himself.

Yeah, I’m up. Why are you awake?

God damn it Kento. He cursed himself silently for doing this to himself again. One day one day he would grow a spine strong enough to put his phone down when she messaged, or at least put it on silent. But apparently that day was clearly not today. He groaned softly as he propelled himself out of bed, grabbing a shirt to throw on. The first top he touched was an ancient Tool shirt from when he was still in college. He thought about grabbing something nicer, but ultimately threw it on. Not like he’d be wearing it for long anyway. He did manage to put on jeans to look at least a little more put together.

Darling: I’m thinking about you ;) I got a bottle of Blue Label that’s been begging me to open it. Wanna come help me drink it?

Not really. Nanami wasn’t a huge fan of blended scotch. He knew this, he knew you knew this. But, it wasn’t about the scotch, was it?

Johnnie Walker? I’m already on my way.

He hoped the sarcasm read through the text. He hoped the sarcasm didn’t read through the text. He didn’t really know what he hoped for honestly. What he did know was that he wanted to be with you. He was also pretty sure you didn’t want to be with him in the same way, and that he should at least try to get some distance. He wanted to get over this crush. He didn’t want to get over this crush. He grabbed his keys, deciding he’d sort out his tangled emotions some other time.

🥀🥀🥀

He always felt silly trying to get his nerves together long enough to knock on your door. He was a fully grown man getting butterflies at the thought of being with a girl, it was silly! But, at the same time, it wasn’t just a girl. It was Y/n. It was a girl who had always been there with him, and supported him though some of the darker times in his life. The girl he thought he was going to marry back when he was in highschool. The girl he wouldn’t mind wifing up now if she gave him the chance. But, why would she? He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

You were all smiles when you opened the door, wearing a sleep set Nanami knew you didn’t actually sleep in. It was small, and clung to you perfectly, only a few steps away from being basically lingerie. It made him proud to know you wore it for him.

“Well hello Gorgeous,” He smiled, placing a hand on your hip and leaning in to kiss your cheek, “Do you always get dressed up so pretty to go to sleep?” He teased.

“Nope, only when I’m expecting company.” You giggled, moving out of the door to let him in.

“You get company in the middle of the night often?” He asked as he sat on your couch, trying to hide his absolutely unfounded jealousy.

“Check your phone if you really want the answer.” you said as you closed the door and joined him on the sofa. He chuckled softly, happy to know he was your only late night visitor. You smiled as you curled into his side, taking in his familiar warmth. He wrapped his arm around you to pull you closer. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?” You asked.

“No, not at all,” He assured you, “You know I don’t sleep anyway.” He joked. He’d struggled with insomnia and night terrors for years. If anything, the distraction alone was welcome.

“You really should work on that,” you joked, “Sleep is important you know.”

“You're one to talk,” he laughed, “You’re up too you know.”

“Hey, I tried to go to sleep!” You protested with a giggle, “It’s not my fault I woke up. I had a dream.”

“Is that so?” Nanami asked, tilting his head at you in amusement. “And what were you dreaming about, Beautiful?” you grinned and bit your lip, deciding to use this opportunity to take some initiative. You moved to placed yourself on top of

him, putting one of your legs on either side of his hips and placing your hands on his shoulders for balance.

“I was dreaming about you Kento,” You purred softly to him. He smiled, placing his hands firmly on your hips to keep you stable. God, you always looked gorgeous from this view. It was his favorite way to have you.

“Were you now Princess?” He muttered, “What were we doing in your dream?”

“This.” You said, leaning down to kiss him. Smooth. He chuckled softly before pulling you in closer, pulling your bottom lip into his teeth. You gasped softly at the gentle pain, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

There was something undeniably right about kissing Nanami. The way his mouth fit perfectly against yours, the way his soft lips moved, how he always tasted like strong tea and mint. You would kiss Nanami for an eternity if the world would have let you. And he would have happily obliged.

His left hand glided up from your hip to tangle in your hair. He gave it a quick, sharp tug, lighting a fire in your core and pulling a soft moan from your throat. Nanami chuckled softly.

“You sound so pretty when you do that.” He said, his right hand moving in between your legs, leaving you clinging to his shoulders for balance. “I want to hear more.” Your shorts were small enough you might as well have not bothered with them. It was only when he moved the crotch aside that he realized why you had.

“Commando huh?” He teased, “It’s almost like you were expecting this.”

“Oh shut up-!” You tried to laugh, but Nanami’s thick fingers running up your slit cut your words off.

“Oh, I’m sorry Princess, were you saying something? I didn’t quite catch that.” He smirked, swirling tight circles into your puffy clit. You could feel the slick gather between your legs, killing any retort you had before it escaped your lips. Nanami knew your body better than anyone else you’d ever been with, and took every opportunity he could to remind you of that fact when the two of you were together.

Every movement of his digits sent another wave of illicit electricity through you and to your core. Wave after wave, building up into a riptide pleasure threatening to take you underneath it. You moaned out shakily, your nails digging into his shoulders as you gripped him tighter, getting lost in ecstasy.

And Nanami couldn’t get enough of the sight. You always looked breathtaking, but something about watching you come undone on top of him always set his heart into overdrive. “Fuck, you look so pretty.” He muttered to you, “Feel good?” He asked. You nodded to him. You had about one good sentence left in you, and you wanted to use it for this.

“P-please Sir…wanna cum on your cock..” You whimpered to him, looking up at him from under long lashes. Fuck. Kento was honestly lucky he didn’t cum right then and there in his jeans. You always knew exactly what to say to leave him even further wrapped around your finger, a slave to your every beck and call.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” He grinned. He took the opportunity to rip the crotch of your shorts in two, giving him much easier access. You didn’t really care about losing the cheap set, much more interested in unbuttoning Kentos jeans and getting his cock into you. You bit your lip as you got him out. You wouldn’t say this about many guys, but Kento genuinely had a pretty dick.

His hands found your hips, and despite his better judgment his eyes met yours as he guided you down onto his length. This was always his favorite part, the part that played on repeat in his head on nights when you didn’t text him. Watching the way your eyes screwed shut, how you bit your lip, the sharp breath you pulled in as you braced for impact. Fuck. He let out a shaky moan as he finally pushed into you, your velvety walls pulling him even further in.

“Kento, fuck” You moaned out, sharp spikes of pleasure rippled out from your core as he graced your g-spot. You could feel yourself quiver around him. You were so close earlier, you knew you weren’t going to last long now.

“Jesus christ, you belong in a museum.” Kento mumbled as he took in your features. You were a piece of art to be praised and prized, and he fully intended to make you believe that you were. He bucked his hips up, and you saw stars.

“You feel so good Sir,” You muttered, tangling your fingers into Nanami’s hair and pressing your forehead to his. Every movement of his hips sent another wave of euphoria through you, only intensifying the tsunami building up inside of you and pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Nanami was lost. He could feel his heart rate picking up, and it wasn’t from the physical activity he was performing. You were so close, too close. Your soft breathy moans filled his ears, your scent filled his lungs. You felt so, so perfect in his arms. He was convinced only you could make such a sinful act look so divine. Against his will, thoughts of your laugh and your smile entered his mind.

Memories of the two of you working perfectly together, celebrating all the events in your life together, big and small. You may have seen a friend when you looked at him, or worse, a late night hook up. But when he looked at you, he saw the woman he wanted to build a life with.

“God, you're perfect Y/n,” He whispered to you, “You’re so fucking good for me, so pretty. So fucking sweet and kind, and fuck. I love you Y/n.”

FUCK.

“Wai, wha?” You slurred, trying to look at him. Nanami was quick though, flipping you off of him and onto your hands and knees before you could see his panicked eyes. He did not just fucking say that, motherfucker Kento! What were you thinking?!

“I said, I fucking love your cunt,” He rasped out, ramming into you with enough force to hopefully knock the memory out of your mind. You found your face shoved into one of your decorative pillows while he rammed into you from behind. The new angle left you screaming profanities into the pillow. Every push of his hips set your blood on fire, creating an inferno inside your core that threatened to burn you alive.

“Kento!” You yelled out.

“Yea, that’s right Princess, say it again.” Nanami said, trying to distract himself from his colossal mistake. It wasn’t hard to do when your pussy was gripping him like a vice, pulling him right back in every time he pulled out. He held your hips tight enough to leave bruises you could take fingerprints off of. He wanted you to remember he was there when he was gone.

“Kento, please, I-I’m close..” You stuttered out, feeling the knot in your stomach get tighter and tighter.

“Is that right pretty girl?” He asked, pushing into you with a vengeance. This was probably going to be the last time you called him over, he was going to make the most of it. His right hand slipped down your body, and two of his fingers found your clit. He massaged expert circles into it, pulling a truly embarrassing moan from you. His every move sent your nervous system into overdrive. Your head was filling with fluff and your blood felt explosive.

“Then come on. Cum all over my cock like the dirty girl you are.” Something in his words and everything in his movements sang to your pleasure receptors. A few more swirls from his fingers and a few more thrusts of his hips and you were coming undone. The knot inside your stomach exploded into a thousand waves of pleasure and oxytocin. You swear you saw white as the tsunami overtook you.

And Nanami wasn’t that far behind. The way you seized around him, your warm walls enveloping him and trying to pull him impossibly further in undid him. He barely managed to pull out, cumming all over your back and ass as he did. It was a pretty fucking sight. He would have taken a picture if he was about 40% more coherent.

You collapsed face first onto the couch, and Nanami braced himself on the back, still breathing hard. His confession was still ringing in his head. Did you buy his lie? Probably not. You were smarter than that.

Fuck.

Once his breathing started to regulate, he finally stood up, fixing his pants and going to your bathroom. He returned not long later with a warm, damp washcloth, cleaning up the mess he made on your back. You groaned out softly.

“Sorry about the mess.” He muttered once you were cleaned up. His fingers gently traced the outline of your spine before he patted you gently. “Come on, let's get you to bed.” He muttered.

He threw the rag in your hamper as he got you into your bed. “Stay with me?” You muttered softly. Oh, good. That probably meant you didn’t hear his confession. Or you did and were completely okay with leading him on forever. But, that wasn’t like you. He nodded and laid down next to you, pulling you into his arms. He knew he shouldn’t. He knew it was only going to make things worse for him in the end. But he couldn't help it. All he ever wanted was to be close to you.

“Hey Kento?” You muttered softly.

“Yea Y/n?” He asked softly.

“I love you too.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #nanami x reader #nanami kento #nanami smut #nanami x reader smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento smut #nanami x you #nanami kento x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #kento nanami #nanami kento fluff #nanami x reader fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #nanami kento x reader smut

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nia-jul · 4 months

Text

WET CIGARETTES

Gojo Satoru, your prettiest customer, insists on ordering the most insane drinks possible. As a barista, it’s your duty to fullfill them.

alternate!universe, fluff, happy ending

(This is a long one guys 🙈)

——————————————————————

You love your job. The truth is, the people who romanticise working at a coffee shop were exactly right. Yes, the hours can be long, and the occasional Karen can turn what should be a five-minute interaction into a half an hour one. And sometimes you go home with burns from a hot coffee pot, or spills on your favourite trousers. But you love every part of your job.

Except for Gojo Satoru.

Your most troublesome customer. You know he goes to your university, because you’ve seen him wearing a hoodie with its logo on it. You assume you both have different majors, because you don’t cross paths at all.

But he comes to the shop every day without fail. And he orders the most complicated, diabetes-inducing drinks known to man. He strolls up to the counter, blinking those bright blue eyes at you, with his perfect smile and his hair that looks so soft to touch and starts rattling off his order.

Okay, it’s not the worst thing in the world. Gojo is easy on the eyes, and it’s quite funny to see how far he’ll take it. You’re not exactly sure if he even consumes the stuff he buys. Maybe he’s trying to impress you. Maybe he’s trying to annoy you. You think he succeeds more with the second option, but it’s fine. You like the little challenge everyday.

Today, you’re wiping down the counter when you see him appear behind it and begin drumming his fingers against it.

“Hi, sugar.”

You look up, unamused. He’s wearing a black compression shirt that hugs his muscles and grey sweatpants. He’s probably come back from the gym, judging by the sweat that sticks some strands of his white hair to his forehead. He looks good. Whatever.

“Gojo. What monstrosity will it be today?”

He hums under his breath. He rests his cheek on his palm. His skin is so clear. For all the coffee he drinks, at least.

“I would like… A single shot, 4 pumps sugar free peppermint, nonfat, extra hot, no foam, light whip stirred grande white mocha.”

Your mouth gapes. “Gojo. What? That’s not- what even is that?”

He laughs, loud and boyish. The shop is quite empty, so, you can take your time to mock his ridiculous request.

“I don’t know. Thought I’d try something different, you know?”

“You try something different everyday. I think this one wins the stupidest order yet.”

“Don’t be like that, sweetheart. You know you like it. I bring some joy to the darkness that is your shift.” He pouts and leans forward.

You rolls your eyes. You turn and grab a cup to begin concocting his drink.

“Don’t call me that. And it doesn’t bring me joy. It does test my memory, though,” you pause, “How many pumps of peppermint was it?”

“Four. And what’s wrong with sweetheart?”

“I’m not your sweetheart, Gojo.”

He groans. He watches as you flit around behind the counter, going to steam the milk for his drink.

“Come on, what else am I supposed to call you? I don’t know your name.”

You point to the name tag pinned to your shirt.

“Yes you do.”

“That’s not your name.”

You nod and insist that it is. His eyebrows raise and he nods towards it.

“Your name is Brian?”

“Cute, right? I don’t like strangers using my real name, so they let me print a fake one.” You smile.

“It’s a shame, really. Brian suits you.” You stick your tongue out and Gojo grins.

The drink doesn’t take long. You make one of the fancy milk designs on the top, and slide it over to him.

“Here you go.”

He thanks you. He peers at the design at the top, eyeing the drink.

“I like this. You should learn how to draw my face on there.”

“Ah, yes. You’re right, that does sound like a great way to pass my time.” You nod sarcastically.

He sips the drink carefully. His nose scrunches and he sticks his tongue out.

“Oh, that is not good. At all.”

You laugh. You reach over and grab the drink, taking a swig. Gojo protests, but you can tell his effforts to get it back are half-assed. You wince, the warm peppermint drink sliding down your throat.

“Yeah, gross. How did you even come up with this?”

He shrugs, “They just come to me.” He nods at the cup in your hand, “You know, we basically just kissed.”

You snort, “You can keep dreaming, Gojo.”

“Oh, you’re definitely in my dreams, baby. All the dirty ones.”

Oh, he’s feeling brave today. You turn to hide the flush that dusts your cheeks. You wipe down the steamer.

“Baby is gross.”

“Tell me your name then.”

You point at the name tag on your shirt. Gojo groans and runs a hand through his hair. You glance down at the ignored drink on the counter.

“Gojo, you haven’t even touched your drink.”

He shrugs. “Oh, well. It’s not like I can’t pay for it.”

You hum under your breath. Rich people.

The shop starts filling up, and your manager pops his head around the door to tell you to get a move on.

“Sorry, Gojo. You gotta get a move on.”

“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You wave him off, sighing as he drops his drink in the trash.

——

The next day, Gojo walks in with someone else. A girl, short brown hair and an unlit cigarette in her mouth. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him with anyone else. Maybe she’s a girlfriend. Gojo seems awfully close to her, a smile gracing his lips as she says something to him.

You’re staring. You turn away quickly. It’s none of your business what he’s up to and you don’t care, anyway. Gojo could be married for all you care.

He bounds up to the front. Gojo has a way of taking up every space he’s in, and as he leans across the counter, he’s all you can see.

“Hey, cutie.”

“Hello. What can I do for you today?”

“Aw. No complaints. You like cutie?”

“Feels like something a 12 year old would call his discord girlfriend, but. Sure, let’s go with that.”

He laughs, but he straightens up quickly.

“Look, I’ve got no time for our cute banter today. I’ll have a Venti, triple-shot caramel macchiato, with three pumps of vanilla, two pumps of hazelnut, one pump of caramel, a sprinkle of cinnamon, and extra whipped cream on top.”

“No time for banter, but time for all of that.”

“Oh, and a mocha.”

You smile. “Who’s that normal order for?”

He points at the girl he came in with, who’s gone outside to smoke her cigarette.

“Shoko. Luckily for you, she likes normal people drinks.”

You turn to start making their drinks. Today’s order is much tamer than usual. It actually sounds like it might taste nice, and it’s sugary enough to satiate his sweet tooth. You wonder if he’ll ask that girl to try it for him.

“So. You got any plans today?” You say.

“Mhm. My friend and I are going shopping. She asked me to keep her company, but I think she likes my credit card’s presence more than mine.”

“Makes sense. At least she gets something out of the card.”

“Ha ha ha. Come on, she gets mean when she’s impatient.”

You shake your head, waiting for the milk to steam. “It takes as long as it takes.”

“Okay, Carla.”

“Wrong.”

“Bridget?”

You tell him he’s wrong again and laugh at his whining. You finish his drink off with an alarming amount of whip cream, to his request, and place it and the mocha on the counter.

“Done in record time.” You wink.

He tries it, and perks up.

“I’m impressed. This one actually tastes nice.”

He slides it over to you, and you take a sip.

“Yeah, you’re right. It is nice.” You say, incredulously.

“Can I have a sip?”

You look to the left and Gojo’s ‘friend’ has appeared. She smells a little like cigarettes but she’s so breathtakingly pretty that you don’t think anyone‘s really worried about that. She takes a drink before Gojo can protest, and she winces.

“God, it’s so sweet. You’ll die an early death if you keep going on like this.”

“Well, good thing it’s not for you.” He grabs it and passes her the mocha.

The girl looks over at you and smiles.

“Hey. I’m Shoko. It’s nice to meet you. Gojo doesn’t shut up about you.”

You tilt your head at the boy, who is looking away from the two of you, and coo.

“Aw, how sweet!” You awe, pressing a hand to your heart.

“He calls you Barista girl. Says you make the best drinks.”

You shrug. “I wouldn’t say best. I am the only one who will make his insane orders, though.”

“That’s true. He doesn’t even drink them half the time. Just throws them away the second he leaves. It’s like the only reason he comes here is so-“

“Okay! Okay, we’ve got to go.” Gojo claps his hands together, cutting off Shoko, and steering her away.

She grins, waving at you. She yells it was nice to meet you, and you say it back, much to Gojos dismay, and wonder what the real reason he comes here is.

——-

The next time Gojo comes in, he looks good. He’s wearing a black button up, the top few buttons undone, the sleeves rolled up to show his forearms. There’s a silver chain around his neck, and his hair is done up in a way that looks effortless and prepared at the exact same time. He’s also holding a bouquet of pretty flowers, pink and white and perfect looking.

God. You move away before he notices you blatantly staring at him. It’s almost closing, and you’ve got ten minutes before you’re free to go. You should be annoyed at his presence. You and Choso, the guy you were working with tonight, had just cleaned up, and you know Gojo’s order would probably need every appliance in the building. Any other customer would be shunned away, a quick point at the clock.

But Gojo’s not any other customer. Not that you’d ever tell him that.

“Hey, Gojo.”

He smiles. “Hey, gorgeous.”

Your cheeks heat up. God, if only he wasn’t so attractive. It would be so much easier to act like you don’t care when he calls you all those things.

“You look nice. You going somewhere after this?”

“Mhm. I’m going on a date.”

You pause to where you’re emptying out the coffee pots. A date? He was seeing someone else after spending god knows how long flirting with you?

You shouldn’t be surprised. He’s never asked you out, and Gojo is attractive enough to be someone who doesn’t care about girls' feelings. You know you should’ve seen this coming. It probably was just a little fun he had everyday, joking around with the oblivious, head-over-heels barista who allowed him to act like a dick with his stupid coffee orders.

Whatever.

“That’s nice. What can I get for you? You need to hurry up though, because we’re closing soon.” Your voice is flat, and your hand rests on your hip.

“Uh. Just a coffee.”

You frown. “No obnoxious order today?”

“Nah. I’ve got places to be. And I need to be awake tonight, if you get my drift.” He winks and you scoff.

You turn and fill the coffee pot, a little more aggressively than normal. You unfortunately do get his drift. Before you can say anything in response, Choso comes out from the back.

Choso is cute. He looks intimidating, always monotoned and looking sleep-deprived, but he was a sweetheart. He always ties his hair into little buns, draws cute designs on top of the lattes, and always makes sure you don’t close alone. Plus, he looks good in an apron. You think you’d like him if it weren’t for an annoying blue-eyed boy and his stupid orders.

“You okay if I clock out?”

You turn to him and smile. “Yeah, I’ll lock up. You working tomorrow?”

Choso takes his apron off and drapes it over his shoulder. You turn to face him, effectively ignoring Gojo.

“Nope.”

“What? Choso, come on, I can’t work if you’re not there, it’s so boring!”

He laughs, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter. It make the muscles in his arms stand out, and wow. Does he work out? Probably.

“You’ll be fine without me.”

“I won’t.” You pout.

“Goodbye.” He walks away, nodding at Gojo, who looks just peachy waiting for his coffee.

“So who’s that?”

You turn back to face him. “Choso. He works here.”

“Yeah, I figured. You like him?”

“Yeah. He’s great. My favourite coworker.”

Gojo nods slowly. A weird sort of quiet settles over you two. A part of you wants to ask who’s he’s going on a date with, but you respect yourself too much for that.

“What time do you get off?” He speaks up.

You pause slightly. “Me?”

Gojo raises an eyebrow. “No, the other barista behind the counter. Yes, you.”

“Oh. I’m done in ten.”

“Okay, good. Our reservation is in half an hour, so we should make it.”

The coffee pot whirs to let you know it’s ready. Instead, you keep staring at Gojo, who’s looks all too serious for somebody speaking nonsense.

“What?”

“It’s a nice place, don’t worry. Thought I’d splurge, to impress you. These are for you, by the way.” He thrusts the flowers towards you.

“I- What? Gojo, what’s going on?” You laugh, a little hysterical, confused as to what the hell is happening.

He grins. He walks right over to the you, leaning over the counter, so you’re a couple inches away from each other.

“You really think I’d ask anybody else out? I’ve been asking for these stupid orders at for weeks now just to throw them out so I could talk to you, that wasn’t a hint?”

“Yeah, but I just. I don’t know, I thought you were just messing around!”

“Are you really that clueless?”

“Hey! You-“ You stop for a second.

You take the apron from around your neck and throw it behind you into the office. You cross your arms and you nearly laugh at the nervous look that crosses his face.

“Did you make a reservation and dress yourself up for a date you didn’t even ask me to?”

Gojo scratches the back of his head. “I-“

“And then come in here and just tell me when it’s happening, without even giving me time to prepare myself?”

“I- Barista girl, I can explain.” He clasps his hands together.

“And you still don’t even know my name.”

He sighs. “The mystery is part of the fun, babe.”

You smile slightly. You have no idea what went through his head, but it’s cute he tried so hard. Even if it was a little weird.

“What if I had plans tonight, huh?”

Gojo shrugs. “I was hoping you’d cancel them for me.”

“And if I didn’t?”

“Not too sure. Maybe throw the coffee I’m still waiting for in your face?”

You perk up suddenly, remembering the pot that was still bubbling behind you. You take a cup and fill it for him, fit it with a lid and give it to him.

“So. Are you going to ask me out properly?”

He nods. His face is determined and he grabs the flowers from your hands. He takes two steps back and he walks forward.

“Barista girl, will you do me the honours of going on a date with me tonight?”

You frown, sighing dramatically, “I don’t know. I’ve had such a long shift. I’m tired.”

Gojo grabs your hands, pulling you towards him. The counter gets in the way, but you don’t think he cares. The two of you are still close enough that if you moved a couple inches forwards you’d be kissing. He smells like something expensive, and it overwhelms your senses. His lips quirk up in a little smirk, and you think your skin is buzzing where he’s touching you.

“I’m sure I can help wake you up, baby. You just gotta say yes.”

“I- I kinda look like shit, though.” You whisper.

“Don’t say that, you look beautiful.”

You know you don’t. Your hair is being held up poorly by a claw clip, random strands falling out of it. Your mascara is slightly smudged under your eyes, and there’s a lovely new coffee stain on the shirt you're wearing, courtesy of Choso knocking into you before you got a chance to put your apron on.

But he’s looking right at you like you’re the most incredible thing that he’s ever laid his eyes on that you feel like you might actually believe him.

“Okay. Okay, fine. If you let me go home and freshen up. Put a dress on, or something.”

“Oh, I can get behind that.”

You snort a laugh, stepping back. The nervousness from before is gone, and he’s grinning at you excitedly. He waits the few minutes it takes you to lock up, and holds his arm out for you to take while he walks you to his car.

It’s seven in the evening and the sun is just starting to set. The sky is beginning to turn, seeping from blue to orange to pink, and the light is catching off Gojos face. He’s speaking animatedly as he talks about the restaurant he’s taking you too, oblivious to your staring. He’s planned every last detail, somehow remembering when you said that you loved Asian food about a month ago.

You don’t really know much about Gojo. You do know enough to say that he is so sweet it makes your teeth rot.

You say your name, then, softly enough that he nearly misses it. He stops mid sentence and turns to you.

“Is that your name?”

You nod.

“You have a very pretty name.”

You smile. “Thank you.”

He nods slowly. “You can call me Satoru, by the way.”

“Okay, Satoru.” The name feels nice on your tongue.

He groans when you say it, hand reaching up to cup your face.

“God, it sounds so beautiful when you say it. It’d sound even better if you were screaming it, though.”

You roll your eyes, face a fiery red, and let a laughing Satoru lead you into his car.

——————————————————————

AUTHORS NOTE

Gojo satoru the man that u r.. also that cosplayer is EXACTLY how I envision him in my brain.. so obsessed..

again, any requests r welcome! (I’m literally lost for ideas)

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #fluff #jjk fluff #oneshot

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hoony2k · 2 months

Text

FIGHT CLUB

Summary: You discover why Sunghoon is always mia during the weekend so you decide to visit the sketchiest place in the city to see him in action- too bad Sunghoon has other plans.

PAIRING: Sunghoon x reader

GENRE: not so platonic friends, fight club au, fluff, crack,

WARNINGS: slight mentions of shady stuff, its a fight club au but I have never seen fight club, I yap a lot before sunghoon shows up, blond sunghoon, self indulgent, blond sunghoon, sunghoon.

WORD COUNT: 2.4k+

NOTE: hi everyone! lore : this was originally written for jeno but was banished in the dungeons until sunghoon dyed his hair and I felt things. This has been close to my heart for a long time and i really loved the idea more than the execution but hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

It's stupid. One of the stupidest ideas you've ever had in your life. Despite your last-minute planning and caution, it's still stupid, you weren't thinking ( you still aren't ) but you refuse to go back home without completing your mission, a simple "in and out" after you're done sightseeing. Before the stars decided it was your fate to go through this ordeal, Heesung said you deserve an award for being the "biggest idiot in the world" and you think he's right.

No one inclined towards their rational side would do this alone. Thank God love is blind.

So, here you stand, in a large room lit up by two dangling bulbs that sway due to the vibrations in the ceiling and three neon signs that cast the remaining dim light, staring at the rowdy crowd in front of you.

It's noisy, the crowd is bouncing like a single organism, blaring with cheers and screams, so loud you can't understand your thoughts and there's a constant ringing in your ears. It's the feeling you get when you dive into a cold pool and water licks your ears and blood rushes in your veins before you swim upwards and break the surface tension.

You take a deep breath to prepare yourself and mould into the pack of bodies. Immediately, your shirt feels too sticky, your body squirming as a reaction to the humid stuffy air and sweaty bodies around you.

Suddenly, you want to shrink to escape the uncomfortable, overstimulating sensations around you, everything is happening all at once. Or perhaps, going invisible would somehow cure the sense of isolation that spreads subtle fear in you, but you made your choice to enter alone in an unfamiliar environment when you ignored the beware signs plastered on the basement doors.

Your grip on the plastic cup hardens hand tremors along with the vibrations that are now flowing in the ground. Everything is far too shaky and you splash a bit of the drink onto your fingers. You have no idea what the drink is nor do you plan on taking a sip. It's just an accessory, an illusion to blend in and look casual. You think you're doing a great job at this despite your prior dilemma.

There's a man's voice bursting through the speakers, effectively hushing the noise in the large room, everyone waits silently, no one nudging or pushing anyone.

You think you're getting a whiplash at how the crowd's obedience contrasts with their anticipation and actions. The man's voice booms again, it echoes in the vast room, demanding attention.

"And now presenting, a young man who flew from Japan, Haruto!"

There are some cheers, barely a few people you can count on your fingers, someone in the crowd boos, and the rest stand uninterested in the Japanese boy, their eyes darting around, pretending to be nonchalant about their distaste for him. You almost feel bad.

The Japanese boy appears to be unaffected by the lack of enthusiasm. He checks the pale yellow bandages tied around his wrists and palms and flexes his fingers.

The announcer continues "In a raw battle against the fan favourite-"

Immediately, girls with artistic smokey makeup and intimidating smiles lose control and begin giggling and shouting in glee, their bright lips split to show their pearly teeth, and they nudge each other in a similar pattern. The crowd's enthusiasm returns tenfold and inch by inch, people begin levitating towards where Haruto stands as if placed under a spell. There are no ring ropes to stop them, hell, there isn't even a proper ring, only three large mats that look like they've witnessed multiple crimes.

"-the one and only, Park!"

Everyone in the room starts yelling and cheering louder than ever, and the announcer's voice dies under the noise- it's overwhelming, this sudden wave of ringing makes you dizzy and you almost regret coming here. But you're no coward, sure, you're way out of your comfort bubble and have ignored Heeseung's numerous warnings, but you're on a mission and you need the front seat. Not his fans or admirers, it has to be you watching Park throw fists and hopefully win.

You discard the full cup on a table nearby and once again begin to dig your way into the tightly packed crowd. It's worse than before due to people linking their arms like a giant human chain. Friends are glued together by the hip and you're scared someone's going to fall onto the large blue mat where the matches take place.

Nonetheless, you scoot past a man bulging with muscles, stacks of us dollars in a death grip while he yells loudly, spit flying everywhere. You wince and begin to move toward the left.

Why do people get so obsessed with these things?

You wonder if Sunghoon's already on the battlefield, fixing his bandages or mouthguard or whatever it is fighters do before a fight. You croak out a tiny " excuse me" as a tall girl harshly elbows you on accident. She merely glances at you with a tight-lipped smile and focuses her intention back onto the match uninterested in you. You wonder if she's looking at "Park".

Shoving the menacing thought away, you slowly force yourself towards the centre of the ring- or an excuse of a ring, just three worn-out mats placed next to each other, not even taped together. Had someone fallen mid-fight, they'd scrape their knee on the concrete.

The mats look too old, with lines engraved onto them from being used and the dark blue colour is faded on a few sides, leather ripped from previous matches. You think about how dirty and unhygienic it would be to come in contact with it, forget the ground.

Then again, nothing in this place says clean, it's a sketchy room in a sketchy alleyway that's locked up by a fenced door. In the morning, it's got two men always surrounding it. Everything is dark, posters of advertisements- some ripped- and graffiti linger on the walls and you're sure that the group next to the 'out of order' washroom is high.

This isn't a place you would ever come to, but desperate times (falling in love) can change people so here you stand. With only two people blocking you from seeing Park you curse at your height, but ambition runs in your veins. You slither between more disgustingly warm bodies until-

There's an unignorable sensation of being choked as someone pulls the hood of your sweatshirt and you're being yanked backwards. The wind successfully knocked out of you and whoever is behind you is slowly pulling you back into the crowd, their grip isn't loosening any time soon and you can feel your lungs about to explode. You wave your arms around but no one spares a glance, they're happy to occupy the vacant space you left.

Finally being pulled out of the crowd gelled together, your vision blurs when you're roughly turned out to lock your eyes on the culprit who glares at you with thick furrowed brows.

Before you stands Park Sunghoon.

If you couldn't breathe before, you're suffering from asphyxiation right now. Your arms feel like they weigh a ton, lungs seconds away from collapsing.

His eyes bore into yours, yet something was so sickeningly sweet about them, raw honey-brown eyes that held the secrets to the entire galaxy. They gaze into your pair, his gentle eyes have swirls of anger in them but wait-

There's a ringing in your head that sounds like Heeseung saying "I wish I never introduced Sunghoon to you" and you shove it away.

That's not it though, when you finally break contact and have a good look at the boy you realise, to your horror, that his hair is no longer silky black that you've grown to love.

Blond.

Sunghoon is blond.

Park Sunghoon is blond.

This is it, this is how you die. The purple and pink neon light cast a glow on his sculptured face and God, you think, he's heavenly. What a perfect way to die. His skin effortlessly glows, the gentle slope of his nose curves ever so elegantly and the tips of plush pink his lips curl upwards. The beauty marks decorating his face like glitter are shining. He's truly a sight for sour eyes.

Unlike his gentle eyes that glare, the first words that tumble out of his moisturised lips are,

" Sorry for being so harsh. The girls would have pushed you onto the mat. They kind of love that Park guy."

Your brain finally begins to restart and has two epiphanies at the same time, one, the fan favourite ' Park' is not your Park Sunghoon but a random guy Park that you suddenly don't care about anymore and that the unfortunate soul you were thinking about a few minutes ago could have been you. Your sly mission is a failure because you were not sneaky in the slightest and also because you could have gotten injured.

Sunghoon is an angel that God blessed you with you conclude.

Noticing your silent manner, Sunghoon mistakes it for hidden anger, fumbles with his slender hands and repeats "I'm really sorry for being so harsh."

You want to tell him that you forgave him the moment he dyed his hair blond but you don't want to come off too strong. You also realise that endangering your life by coming into a disturbingly dark neighbourhood that had abandoned buildings, neon as the only source of light and rowdy people, with no friends or plan and a phone with 20% battery was worth it. No matter how utterly stupid your plan was, the love of your life stands before you.

You quickly respond, moving your hands around casually and letting a simple smile show, " No! I'm good. I come here a lot!"

Your response is too happy and too quick and you pray he lets go of your lie.

He quirks a strong brow upwards and you can feel your mind going haywire. His voice is raspy but somehow so so silky you want to drown in it. Mirth glittering in his eyes, willing to let you play your game.

"I come here all the time. Pity how I never saw you."

You awkwardly move your hands around again and exhale through your nose. Trying to brush off his comment as if it didn't mean much.

'"It's-I…I came back after a long time. Yea."

Sunghoon snorts at your reply, nose crinkling, " And that's why you looked like you were going to jump straight into the match?"

An angry blush explodes on your face and before you can scramble to lie a bit more, he continues by asking.

" Are you here to watch Park?"

His tone has changed, he sounds like he's trying not to be nosy but like you, he fails.

A match made in heaven.

You sigh solemnly and decide to let the cat out of the bag, there's no use in continuing your lies, it's respectful of him to not embarrass you or call you out and maybe your heart feels weaker than before.

Amid preparation, you look down at your worn-out tennis shoes, they've got mud from when you walked too fast down the stairs.

" No. I came to watch you. I thought Park was you, Park Sunghoon" You confess, still unable to meet his eyes.

Sunghoon looks genuinely surprised by the response and his reaction confuses you. His forehead creases and he tries to hide how swiftly his eyes widen with a fake cough. He rolls his shoulders back and shrugs casually as a reply to your statement. You don't follow what he means.

Then, as quickly as it conceals his vulnerability, Sunghoon lets go of his cool act and relaxes his guard but still, the shock and relief sends waves in your body. Somewhere in the conversation, the noise around you two has become muffled and practically non-existent.

His dark brows pinch together, nose scrunched upwards and mouth open in a small oval. He leans closer to speak but quickly closes his mouth as if he's debating whether his next words will offend you. He looks around and shoves his pretty hands into his blue jeans.

"You realise there are other Parks right?"

He sounds incredibly smug but his expression remains neutral, hesitance in his shaky eyes. There's no way this is the same man who brings hell on the dirty ring.

You weakly argue back with a quiet "Shut up." And he laughs at your flustered state. You want to whip out your phone and record it but you felt your phone buzz a while ago which means it's dead.

Sunghoon looks around again, his right hand appearing to push his blond hair back, bringing the expanse of his forehead under the pink hues. He turns to gaze upon you, half-lidded eyes that stare into your soul and cause a shiver up your spine.

"Since I'm the Park you're looking for, wanna get out of here and eat? My treat."

He sounds confident, tone so velvety. You find yourself instantly agreeing automatically, head nodding before you verbally agree.

The reaction is immediate, Sunghoon's lips stretch to smile at you, dimple peeking. Adoring his pretty smile you can feel the world move beneath your feet.

In the end, it didn't matter if you weren't able to shift into a fly and flutter close to the match or if your lack of comprehension skills made you risk your life for the wrong Park. The Park of your dreams is right there, arm outstretched with his hand waiting to cradle yours. None of the cons or "what ifs" matter anymore. It doesn't matter if he sees how you thread the carefully mapped-out line of so-called friendship. It doesn't matter how he fights the urge to scold you for ignoring his caution to specifically avoid this area. It doesn't matter if you don't question why he spends most weekends here, doing who knows what, for reasons unknown to you and his friends.

What matters is the moment at hand, how right now you and the love of your life are going to escape the crowd and spend an evening enjoying the company of one another.

Outside, the sky is dark and clear as you left it and Park Sunghoon is a huge star that drapes itself around the blanket night sky.

He burns bright no matter where he is. He finds you no matter where you go, and your path always leads to his. Just how it was destined to be.

thank you for reading!

please do not edit/translate/copy the work. all ideas are original.

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fiapartridge · 9 months

Text

cornelia street | mark estapa

"i'd never walk cornelia street again..."

mark estapa x fem!reader

summary: after your break up with mark, you're constantly met with reminders of him.

warning(s): angsty, fluffy flashbacks

a/n: i know i said i was feeling soft but taylor played cornelia street today and now im sad so

not proofread

Everything reminded you of him. The smell of your white sheets, the bottles of wine in your cupboard, the backseat of old taxis, that street. The street you always came back to. No matter where you two were going, you somehow always made your way to that street. It was like it was calling to you, pulling you.

But now you wished you could wash yourself clean of that street. Of the soft glow of the tall green lamp posts that littered the sidewalk every couple feet, the brick buildings that Mark always pinned you against as he kissed you softly, his thumb resting against your chin, the heels of your feet held against the brick wall as you tried to meet his height. The cars that swept past you, always making Mark’s hair fly in the wonkiest directions. You always made fun of him.

“You have the world’s moppiest blonde hair,” you laughed as you reached the doorstep of your apartment, the breeze long gone and his gold locks looking like a piece of art— abstract, of course.

Mark backed you into your apartment, kicking the door closed with his foot as your back met the white couch in the living room. “How about we mess it up a bit more?”

You laughed, your hands holding his neck and pulling him into your lips. He moved you so your back was fully on the couch as his lips trailed down to your chin, then your neck, and then your chest. Slowly lifting the ends of your shirt, he smiled. God, you loved Mark’s smile. It was the best of the best. You might miss that smile just as much as you missed Cornelia Street.

It’s like the city screamed his name with every aching memory. His piggybacks from Yost to his dorm, laughing like crazy people who just escaped an insane asylum. No one ever understood your jokes— not even his teammates, or your best friend. Your guys’ humor was a collection of inside jokes that have accumulated over time and laughing at the stupidest things: a grandma buying ketchup, a baby eating popcorn, a cat sitting on the lawn. No one understood, but you two did. And that was all that mattered.

“Do you think the man in the wheelchair is still there?” you asked, sitting in the backseat of Luke’s car, your hand in Mark’s as Adam twisted around in the passenger seat.

“What man?”

“The man,” Mark answered, causing you to break into a fit of laughter, Mark joining soon after.

Adam furrowed his brows, looking at Luke to see if he was understanding any of this.

“You don’t know the man?” you laughed (screeched, actually), your eyes filled to the brim with tears.

“What man?” Adam complained, wanting to understand what was so funny about this man in his wheelchair.

Mark shook his head, looking at you laughing, causing him to laugh even harder. “The man in the wheelchair!”

Sighing, Luke turned the radio up, trying his best to drown out the sounds of the dying cattle in his backseat who couldn’t stop laughing if their lives depended on it.

As you walked along Cornelia Street, this time on your own, you wondered if Mark was laughing at an inside joke with another girl, or pinning her against a brick wall and looking at her if she was the only other person in the world, or if she was combing her fingers through his mop of blonde hair. And then you felt it. With every memory, with every crack in the sidewalk matching the cracks in your heart. With every slight breeze and every green lamp post that guided you back home.

You could never walk Cornelia Street again.

#mark estapa #umich #umich imagine #umich hockey #university of michigan #mark estapa x reader #mark estapa imagine #mark estapa imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #taylor swift #cornelia street #lover

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itscherrylipsforme · 2 months

Note

🌹for gr!cedric and bc!gryffindor!reader please🤗🤗

Hi darling! Thanks for the request <3 Hope you like it!🥰

Romantic headcanons for Golden retriever!Cedric Diggory and Black cat!gryffindor!fem!reader

For sure Cedric is always the one who iniciates the pda gestures. No matter if it's a kiss, a side hug or a full cuddle session, he is the one who starts it. If bc!reader is in the mood for some affection she is always too shy to ask, but Cedric manages to pick the clue most of the time

As the relationship goes by reader starts becoming more confident when it comes to being lovey dovey with him (although always beind closed doors) and Cedric could not be more happy about it

With bc!reader he feels like he can be the goofiest person in this world. Most of the time he is pressured by everyone to be the perfect. Perfect quidditch player, perfect student, perfect son, perfect prefect (pun intended, sorry)... And the moment they are together he can just be Cedric and fool around

Probably has the stupidest and chessiest dates ideas of the world. Karaoke nights, watching silly romance movies (He is a Mama Mia stan and I will die on this hill), cuddle afternoons which turn into tickling competitions because he loves to hear reader's laugh... Bc!reader acts like it annoys her, but they both now she secretly adores it.

He is the most boyfriend material ever. He just "accidentaly" leaves his scarf or quidditch t-shirt on bc!reader's dorm so she will end up waring them (although she does not understand what he is doing and keeps giving him them back until Cedric explains it), asks her mother to teach him to cook your favourite meals, have their whole future planned out...

As bc!reader is more on the introvert side, she comes up with different ways to tell Cedric how much she loves him. Marking books and giving them to him because that quotes made her think of him, trying to bring herself to open up more often, being more affectionate when nobody is around or wearing his scarf to his quidditch matches and celebrate every time he scores (even if it's against gryffindor, her own team)

#saint valentine's event #always hopeless sometimes romatic event #cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory x y/n #gr!cedric diggory x bc!reader

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dannystattoo · 23 days

Text

I Like Shiny Things but I'd Marry You With Paper Rings

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Female Reader

Warnings: None

We love a drunk Vegas Wedding 🥰

“This might be the stupidest thing you’ve ever suggested,” you rolled your eyes at your boyfriend as you stumbled through the streets of Vegas, both more than a little intoxicated.

“Did you say no?” Danny asked you, lacing his fingers between yours and swinging your arms.

“Well…no” you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling as you approached the gaudy Elvis themed chapel you’d found on Yelp.

“What’s so funny?” You were both laughing now.

“We’re gonna be such a cliche, oh my god,” the words came out slightly slurred. “We got drunk and ran away from our friends to get married in Vegas?”

“We didn’t run away from them, they wanted to go back to the hotel. They’re kinda boring, aren’t they?”

“Probably smarter than us. The drive to the show tomorrow is gonna fucking suck.”

“As long as I’m good to perform tomorrow and you’re good to come and watch,” Danny shrugged.

“Can I pass out on you in the bus tomorrow then?”

“Of course”

“Perfect. So…are we doing this?” You’d been standing outside the chapel for a few minutes now and had yet to go in.

“Ready if you are, babe”

“Danny we…we fucked up” you slurred slightly.

“What’dyou mean, honey?”

“We need witnesses, our friends left”

“Shit. Ok, what if we just grab a couple people, I’m sure we can convince someone into witnessing a wedding in Vegas.” Danny, being the charismatic motherfucker he was, found a couple who was more than willing to follow you into he chapel and witness the ceremony. You promised them you’d be in and out as quick as you could, knowing you only needed a couple minutes.

As you both spoke with the Elvis impersonator out front, you took a minute to thank your past self for choosing something cute to wear tonight. It wasn’t a white wedding dress (not that you’d wanted a white one anyway), but you had chosen a flowy black romper that you thought fit the part well enough. Danny had worn his typical outfit for nights out, jeans and a button-up shirt (which was currently about half unbuttoned), but he could have worn anything and looked perfect to you.

“Whatever service gets us out of here quickest. We promised these fine people we wouldn’t keep them for more than a few minutes.”

You followed the Elvis-minister back into the chapel, which was as tacky as you’d expected.

“So will you be doing your own vows, or would you like the traditional ones?”

“Ummm, traditional I guess, seeing as we don’t write any?”

“We’ll do our own,” Danny said at the same time.

“What, babe, do you have secret vows written or something?”

“No, but you’re absolutely not vowing to honor and obey me.” You nodded, not really able to argue with that point. You remembered when the topic of marriage had come up previously, you’d mentioned how much you hated traditional, antiquated vows and insisted you needed to write your own.

“You first, then”

“Ok,” Danny sat for a second, tongue dancing across his lips as he thought. You were about to give him shit for being so confident about pulling vows out of his ass, but you thought better of it.

“I’m not gonna come up with anything groundbreaking, but y/n, when I tell you meeting you was the best thing to ever happen to me. I promise you’re stuck with me forever, I’m not going anywhere. I’m always gonna support you in the same way you have for me with music, no matter what. I promise we’ll go to so many concerts togther, I’m gonna take you all over the world - some day, I swear I’ll be touring and you can just travel all over with me…if you want, that is. I promise I’ll always try to be home on Halloween, I have to spend your favorite day with you, I could keep going, but really I'm just gonna do everything to give you the best life I can. I love you so much, y/n”

Maybe it was the alcohol, as you weren’t usually an emotional person, but you caught tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. God, you didn’t know what you’d done to deserve someone like Danny.

“Well now I’m crying, you asshole,” you laughed. “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to top that. I love you.” You suddenly realized you were most certainly still tipsy and you couldn’t think of a single other thing to say. Holding Danny’s hands, you leaned forward into his chest and started giggling.

“Danny, I wonder every single day what I did to deserve you because you’re too good for me. I promise to you’re stuck with me forever too, through literally anything. I’m always going to your band’s biggest supporter, I’ll never get mad at you for having to spend time in the studio or on the road, and I’ll be at every single one of your shows I possibly can. I’ll always watch your sports with you, even if I don’t always know what’s going on. I might even consider learning how to golf so I can do more than sit in the cart and look cute. I'll be up for any new adventure, and we’re gonna live life to the fullest, I promise. I don’t have words for how much I love you, how much you mean to me, and I’m never gonna stop showing you that.”

The ceremony finished a few minutes later, with Danny quite literally sweeping you off your feet when he could finally kiss you.

“Now what,” you asked once you’d left the chapel. It was the middle of the night, but being Vegas, you could have gone anywhere.

“Back to the hotel?” Danny looked at you with a smirk.

“Consumate the marriage?” you dished it right back.

“Wait, babe, we need rings.”

“What?” you were so caught up in the moment you didn’t even process what he was talking about.

“We never got rings. We need rings. Well, actually, I have a ring for you when we get home, but we need ones now.”

“Baby, no we don’t, we can always get them later. We’re legal, we don’t need rings. I will need you to back up though, what do you mean there’s a ring at home?”

“I was actually planning to propose to you sometime soon, I wasn’t exactly sure when, but I’ve known I wanted to marry you for a while. So there is a ring in my drawer, I just wasn’t sure when I wanted to do it. But then tonight I decided I didn’t wanna wait. I know I want to be with you forever, why put it off?”

“Babe, what the fuck.” You were absolutely speechless hearing how much this man loved you. You grabbed his hand and nuzzled your face into his chest.

“We don’t need a ring, but we can get one somehwere if you want. You need one too. You know what, we can get them when we’re home, I think it would be fun to keep this our little secret for a while.”

“You sure?”

“If you’re ok with that?” You immediately worried he thought you were ashamed that you’d eloped, or that you regretted it.

“Oh yeah, if you are. We don’t need to tell anyone til we’re both ready. I know nobody was expecting us to get married, we weren’t even engaged.”

You caught an Uber back to your hotel, you curling into Danny’s side the entire drive back. It was apparent you were sobering up, and the inevitable crash was coming. When you arrived at the hotel, Danny insisted on carrying you bridal style of to the room. You insisted right back that you could walk up, you were almost completely sober now, just exhausted, but he said it was part of the experience, there was no way he was going to make his bride walk up to the room herself.

The whole ride up the elevator, you were both ready to start going at each other, but sadly, someone else got on with you all the way up to your room on the top floor. The second the door was closed and locked, Danny threw you on to the bed and you reached up to pull him on top of you. Just as he’d settled his knees between your legs and practically attached his mouth to your neck, his phone started buzzing on the other side of the room, a call clearly coming through. However, neither of you registered it. Not even a minute later, your phone started vibrating and the only reason you noticed it was because you’d forgotten it was still in your pocket. You reached down, but didn’t bother to see who it was, throwing it on the nightstand. At this point you heard Danny’s phone go off again, and you both realized at the same time someone was definitely trying to get a hold of you.

“Go see who it is, make sure it’s not an emergancy.,” you sighed, letting go of his shirt you had been trying to finish unbuttoning.

“Hey man, what’s up, is everything ok?…you’ve got to be fucking kidding me, I’m kinda busy…ok, ok, fine, I’ll be to your room in five, you owe me.”

“Who was that?”

“Sam. Apparently he brought that girl he met earlier back to his room and the dumbass didn’t think to bring any condoms.” You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your mouth upon hearing this.

“Go help him out, I’ll be here waiting, maybe get changed into something else for you.”

“Don’t, I wanna take you out of that myself,” he called from the bathroom. “Ok, I’ll be right back. Keep that on, Mrs.Wagner.”

“I love the sound of that, get your ass back here soon baby.” Oh, that man was going to run to Sam’s room and back.

Somehow, all of your rooms had gotten completely separated and Sam just happened to be multiple floors below you on the opposite side of the hotel, so it would probably be about ten minutes until Danny returned. Of course, the second he was gone, you were hit the same exhaustion you’d felt in the Uber and you decided to get comfortable for a few minutes. You’d wake up the second Danny was back, you knew it. Of course, you’d underestimated how tired you were and within minutes you’d passed out.

“Babe, I’m back, sorry about the -“ Danny found you curled up in bed, arms wrapped around the pillow and fast asleep. He smiled to himself, taking in how adorable you looked and thinking about the fact that he was going to get to come to bed with you every night for the rest of your lives. He striped down to his boxers, not caring about putting on anything else.

“Babe….baby…y/n?”

“Hmmm?” you answered, half concious.

“Let’s get your PJs on, huh?”

“No, I’m good,” you said, rolling further into the bed.

“You sure? You couldn’t stop complaining about having to wear a strapless bra all night.”

“Fine, you’re right.” You slowly, begrudingly, sat up, and let him help you get your romper off and change into one of his t-shirts.

“Not what I had in mind when I said I wanted to get you out of that,” Danny laughed.

“Sorry,” you said, already feeling yourself falling asleep again.

“It’s ok, bug, we have literally our entire lives.” He laid down next to you, pulling you right against him. You curled up right against him, tangling your legs in his and tucking your head into his chest.

“I’ve said it so much tonight, but I love you so much,” you said, slurring your words now to to sleepiness rather than drunkeness.

“I love you too, Mrs. Wagner…god, I’m never gonna get tired of saying that.

“I’m never gonna get tired of hearing it.” That was the last thing you said before you fell asleep, happie than ever about your drunk, impulsive decisions.

#danny wagner #greta van fleet #greta van fic #daniel wagner #danny gvf #danny wagner x reader

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shieldofiron · 10 months

Text

Meals on Wheels

(Harringrove, just a flirty little drabble for @disabledbillyandsteveweek day 2 prompt-Family)

Steve thought it was maybe the stupidest thing he’d ever thought of. He and Robin had been having a sleepover and somehow the subject got around to tattoos.

“I would get a pin up girl but that might be tacky,” Robin sighed.

“As far as I’m concerned, the tackier the better,” Steve rolled up to his countertop and poured another glass of wine.

“Oh yeah, what are you getting? A nail bat?”

“Only if it says ‘who wants to get nailed,’” Steve snarled.

“What about a tramp stamp?” Robin took the glass of wine and sipped it. “Eat me.”

Steve thew a saucy look over his shoulder, dripping with king Steve charm, “Please. Look at me. It would say meals on wheels.”

Robin giggled, “Yeah, as long as we’re getting tattoos of wishful thinking I should get one on my hand that says, ‘Pussy destroyer.’”

“‘M just in a dry spell.”

“Yeah, okay,” Robin rolled her eyes, “Would you actually get ‘Meals on Wheels?’”

“Eat fast, eat fresh,” Steve quipped. “I’ll do it if you do, Madam Pussy Destroyer.”

Robin giggled loopily, “You know I did see an article about a tattoo parlor that specializes in sensory safe tattoos.”

“What’cha mean?” Steve wasn’t drunk, but he was a little tipsy on their good fortune in securing a wheelchair accessible apartment this close to the city center. Sure, a lot of rent had to come from their was Starcourt hush money, after Steve been paralyzed and a flayed Jonathan Byers has saved the world, but they he still found it and so Steve was happy to fork over the cash. The location was ideal, even if the city noise sometimes wrecked havoc on Robin’s sensory issues so they’d installed some extra sound proofing. But he wasn’t sure how a tattoo parlor was a part of that.

“It’s super cool, the owner has OCD so he made it so each room is private and soundproofed. They don’t play loud music, and offer headphones if the buzzing is too much, though you can bring your own movies. I’ve always wanted a tattoo, but some of those places are just too loud and busy,” Robin sighed.

“So you’ve always wanted to be a pussy destroyer?”

“No, shut up,” she blushed. “A Lilly, for my grandma.”

“Well maybe tomorrow we can go check it out.

“I wouldn’t want to do it alone.” She bit her lip. “I wouldn’t have the guts.”

Steve shrugged, “ok, you convinced me. It’s tramp stamp time.”

“No, you’re not serious,” Robin giggled.

“You’re my family. If you bleed, I bleed. You tramp stamp, I tramp stamp,” Steve said, only laughing when Robin did.

But then the next morning, his head pounding, he didn’t have too many defenses when Robin had looked at him with those puppy dog eyes and said she’d called and made them an appointment. She’d even brought in his motorized wheelchair and said that she’d buy bagels on the way.

But he was regretting it when they were finally there, and Steve was contemplating actually getting something permanently inked into his skin.

He wasn't sure if he was cool enough for this. He definitely wasn't cool enough for the artist that came in and introduced themselves to Robin. Their name was Eddie and they were practically covered in tattoos, wearing some cool unpronounceable band name t-shirt that they'd sewn to a mini tutu skirt to make a dress. They took Robin back to her room after they went over her sketch, a lilly painted with pale watercolor shades.

Robin squeezed his hand, "You're not gonna chicken out on me, right? I booked the only two person room they have so if you don't show up, I will know."

"I'm not chickening out," Steve laughed, "Though I hope your grandma isn't watching from heaven, because she'll probably see my ass."

Robin snorts, "She definitely saw your ass this morning when I helped you out of the shower. She was a tough old bird, a little of your pale ass won't scare her."

Steve snorted, "I'll see you in a moment."

Steve was starting to feel a little nervous. Honestly after Starcourt, he hadn't been interested in hiding his sexuality at all. Life seemed too short, he might as well unapologetically be himself, bi and disabled and ADHD and slutty and everything that was himself. But maybe the double entendre tramp stamp was a little too out there.

And then... he'd come in.

"Hi, Steve, right?" The guy was stunning, with long blonde curls streaked with blue piled up into a big bun on the top of his head. He offered a large, warm hand and Steve almost melted when they shook.

"Yeah, hi."

"I'm Billy, I'm the owner," Billy smiled, and Steve swore that he could see a cartoon smile, like Billy was an anime prince. An anime prince that had a giant seratonin tattoo that was splattered with that looked like watercolor. "I hope you don't mind that I use some hand sanitizer. I'm working on my handshake thing, but..."

"It's fine, ah... do you mind if I have some too?" Steve held out his hand.

Billy squirted Steve out a little of their fancy hand sanitizer.

"So I have to be honest, I wasn't sure what to expect when we got the call for a wheelchair themed tramp stamp that said meals on wheels," Billy licked along his lower lip, "But now that I'm seeing you it makes more sense."

Steve could feel himself turning red, "It was kind of a joke-"

"I mean," Billy leaned in, "You do look good enough to eat."

Steve shivered, blush spreading up to his hairline.

Billy straightened, "God, sorry. Sorry, that was so inappropriate-"

"It's fine."

"No, really, I can see if Heather is free to take over the appointment, except that-" Billy bit his lip, "I think I'll still have to be the one to help you onto the table. Maybe if Eddie and Heather work together... God, not that you're like... too big or... shit... I'm sorry."

Steve laughed, "Really, it's fine."

"You're not too big, you're like... perfect," Billy ran a hand down his face, "Sorry. I'm sorry. Chrissy should know she can't give me the pretty guys, I clearly can't handle it."

Steve glanced up, giving him that King Steve sparkle right back, and seeing the way it made Billy's eyes go wide and nervous.

Steve pressed on the joystick to his chair with one finger, running a hand along the tip flirtatiously.

Billy's eyes darted to his hand, and then back to his face.

"I think you can handle me," Steve said smugly, "Don't you wanna try?”

Steve left that day with a bit of a sore ass, though the sensation was soothed a lot by the business card that had Billy's personal number scrawled on the back.

"I can't believe the meals on wheels tattoo got you a date," Robin rolled her eyes as she attached Steve's chair to the floor of his van, tightening the straps down with a shake of her head.

"What can I say," Steve shrugged, "Billy looks like a hungry boy to me."

Robin gagged, "You are my family. But never, ever, say that again."

@intothedysphoria thanks for answering my question on this one.

#disabledbillyandsteveweek #disabled steve harrington #wheelchair user steve harrington #OCD Billy Hargrove #i adore them #harringrove #harringrove ficlet #and some adorable platonic disabled stobin whats not to love

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