#this took a while because of packed schedules

[strrykais]

── 🫧 now playing: mars by jesse barrera

𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐯𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐈 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞

𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑟 ¹ ・・・ with chans busy schedule and interrupted vacations you decide to surprise him this time with a private villa on the beach, keeping him away from unwanted and unnecessary attention.

꒰ 𝓢ubject ꒱ ──── 𝐁oyfriend!𝐂han x 𝐅em!𝐑eader ༘ ⋆ ‎ g. fluff cw. swimsuits, kissing, petnames wc. 882 ┈┈┈ Ӄfiles ₊꒷꒦˚ ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ ғᴏʀᴍ

Ӄai’s ¿? this is the first part of the ‘ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ’ series! gonna be honest jesse barrera’s new album helped write this series.. so they are gonna be named after his songs :)

Chan reached out towards your side of the bed, feeling the soft sheets underneath his finger tips. Groaning out and stretching his tired limbs, Chan fully sits up taking in the view of the beach, the curtains slightly open, but not enough for the sunlight to wake him up. It's only been three days since you and chan arrived at this private villa you surprised him with. 

You remember him talking about wanting to go to the beach but with his jammed packed schedule and the constant unwanted attention. You took it upon yourself to look at private villas, though yes it cost more but you knew chan needed and deserved it. Especially with how well he treats you, it was only right for you to treat him.

Chan walked down the hall out into the connecting kitchen and living room to see you nowhere to be seen. “Baby?” Chan calls out only to be responded with silence. He tries not to panic looking throughout the house trying to find some sort of trace of you. 

Chan reaches for the patio door when it slides open to reveal your tanned skin and bright smile. 

“Morning sleepy head.” you say before he engulfs you in a big hug.

“Oh my god don’t scare me like that. I couldn’t find you anywhere.” 

“I didn’t want to wake you, it was the first time I saw you sleep past 9, so I went outside.” you place a kiss on his chest and walk inside. “I forgot my water bottle, so I came back in to grab it.” 

Chan watches as you fill up the bottle with ice and water. “I made breakfast, though it's probably cold now, you slept rather late today honey.” You giggle out seeing the way Chan was watching your every move, his hair longer now but a mess on his head. The way his eyes are still hazy. “You're so cute.” 

You walk up to him, placing a kiss on his cheek. “Wake up first and meet me outside,” you poke at his shirtless chest. “It’s pretty outside, and there is only an old couple. Wimberly and Pam, they were walking the beach when they saw me and started talking to me. They are here for their 10th anniversary, I told them we were here for our first. I probably shouldn’t have because now they think we are newlyweds-” 

Chan cuts you off by placing a kiss on your lips. Tilting his head, he deepens the kiss. Tongue softly licking at your lips asking for you to grant him access. You comply easily as your hands wrap around his neck. One hand one your cheek while the other rests on the small of your back.

Before it can get any further you pull back gasping for air, while your mind is all foggy chan takes the opportunity to place a sweet kiss on your cheek. “You look pretty in your swimsuit and your little hat.” 

You push him away, rolling your eyes. “I know you are making fun of me and my hat but it's protecting me from the sun. Hurry up and change and come outside.” 

After Chan went to get ready and eat the meal you prepared, he was outside lathering up on sunblock watching you as you carried a bucket of sea water. A huge smile on his lips as he sees you struggle and getting upset that most of it is slashing out the bucket from your swaying so hard. 

Chan sat on a chair, eyes never leaving you. He never thought that someone like you would be so caring for him and his friends, so patient with his line of work, someone so understanding with him. You never faulted him for the missed dates or the forgotten promises, you never made him feel worse than he already did. You were someone chan felt so relaxed with, that he never bothered to check the time, because every second with you counted and he didn't want to waste time checking.

Chan comes back to, seeing you running towards him, waving something in your hand.

“Chan, Channie look, look.” 

You rush up to his sitting frame, hands cupping out holding out a sand dollar. Chan places his bigger hands underneath your smaller ones letting the sand dollar fall onto his palms. 

“Ive never seen a full one at the beach before. It's always broken.” you lean over his hand slightly bumping your head into his. You rub out the spot, and with a smile never leaving your face. “It's gonna look so cool on the sand palace I'm building.”

“Sand palace?” Chan says putting the dollar back into your hands.

“Well yeah, only the best for my king.” 

Chan audibly laughs, standing up grabbing your cheeks and placing a quick kiss on your lips. “That was so lame.”

“It was, wasn't it. Come on, we have a palace to build.” you quickly rush out his hands. Though it was hot outside, Chan missed the warmth of your cheeks on his palms. Seeing you trip over the sand, quickly catching yourself rushing back to your task.

Chan knew right then and there that he wouldn’t mind building many sand palaces with you, as long as you never leave his side.

𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘳𝘺𝘬𝘢𝘪𝘴 ™ © 2025 - 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗋𝗒𝗄𝖺𝗂𝗌, 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗅, 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗀𝗂𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗓𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗋 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗆𝖾!

ᴘᴇʀᴍᴀɴᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ : @mhluvie @sxungchqn @chenlezip @cowboy-jester @peskybirdysya @jisungs-iced-americano @skysole @champagneconfetti @suckerforv @auroratiseee @dollxkill @bookishcaptain @goldenmellow @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts @amaranthlvr @kj-kts @fackeraccount @imagine-all-the-imagines @sellomaybe @va1entinaaa @vangoghsear0 @insbread @jaeminlights @sonicsoloss @d3kstar @balladeerssong @my-neurodivergent-world @eli-rey @emmy-vanderlinde @sirroma @atinyrosedoor @shotovhs @becca_0919 @skzescapes @perisoreuscorvid @corgilover20 @changbinsdwaekkiball @thisrandombitch @mooseung @alnex_05 @jeonginsbaee @torkorpse @grassbutneo @peskybirdysya @weirdowithaphone @unfxrgetwble @bangchanwifey @avilio-is-dead @geni-627 @stylishcaprisuns @iarainha @ssunglvr @beomgyusluver @fairyssongs @lezleeferguson-120 @wookiebearz

[zaphiyy207]

Essence of Dreams

—Chapter 2

"The era of peace is now ticking down"

Fumu jinx herself and pays the price

I'm focusing on this as if I have no important test tomorrow morning that i haven't revised yet.

(h a)

Updates will be slow due to work!

[petertingle-yipyip]

MISS POSSESSIVE - JOAQUIN TORRES

Pairing: Joaquin x Reader // Word Count: 2,061

Summary: So what if you were a little possessive? No one got hurt. (fun fact: the biting story is a true story)

Your relationship with Joaquin was no secret.

You two didn’t necessarily shove it down everyone’s throats, but you didn’t hide anything either. You arrived at most trainings together, sat next to and against each other, went to lunch together, left together. The only time you were really apart was when he went on a mission with Sam and you went with your recon team.

You noticed the new set of eyes in the training center one day. You were doing your planned solidcore routine while Joaquin did weights on the other side of the center.

You saw her when you took a break between exercises. You sat flat on the machine’s pad and breathed deeply, glancing around the relatively empty center. You and Joaquin were there, as part of your usual schedule, along with Nat and Yelena sparring in the far corner. Kate was doing some yoga routine with the blonde that was actively staring at Joaquin, who was oblivious as he began a set of lat pulldowns.

You stared at your boyfriend for a moment as well. Admittedly, the blonde had a fair excuse to stare, and she was new. Or you hadn’t met her at least. Maybe she didn’t know.

You pushed a headphone aside, ready to snap at her, when Kate smacked her friend’s arm. You could barely hear her say to pay attention and that he was taken. Kate met your eyes a moment later and she offered you a thumbs up with a nod, a not-so-subtle confirmation that she had your back.

You smiled at her as you chuckled. Replacing your headphones, you went back to suffering through solidcore.

Later that week, in a more packed training center, Joaquin’s newest fan was watching him again. You two were jogging the track and conversating, and he decided to show off and jog backwards. You caught the woman over his shoulder and you fixed a glare in her direction. Her eyes met yours and she changed from basically undressing Joaquin in her head to daring you to stop her.

“Hello?” He waved a hand in front of your face and your attention slid back to him. “What was that?” He was smirking slightly.

“Nothing.” You shrugged. “You’re gonna fall.”

“I’m not gonna fall.”

“You’re gonna fall.”

“I’m not gon-“ He began before nearly tripping over his own feet.

His arms flailed slightly and you caught him, which caused you to stumble with him. You couldn’t help the laugh as he righted and you two resumed your easy pace.

“Don’t tell Sam.” He said quickly.

“I already saw!” Sam called from the other side of the track.

Joaquin groaned in embarrassment and you nudged him slightly with your elbow. He frowned dramatically at you and you giggled before jerking your chin, daring him to keep up as you increased your stride.

By the end of that week, his watcher had built up some courage.

You were at the cubbies near the door, rifling through your bag for your sparring gloves. Joaquin was leaning against the wall near the cubbies, casually mentioning how he had his already and you were putting your session behind. You mocked him quietly as you dumped the contents of your bag on the floor.

“You set me up.” You blamed him.

“Me?” He laughed. “I’d never do such a thing.”

“Yes you would, because you know I can kick your ass.”

He sighed dramatically and knelt beside you to help you look. You filtered through your scattered items while he checked the zippered pockets. He was the one to find them, which only added on to his guilt in your mind, and you shoved everything back away.

He offered you his hand to get up and you made a show of your reluctance as you took it. He laughed, pulled you to his chest, and kept you close with an arm over your shoulders.

She wasn’t there when you two began your session. You would’ve felt those baby blue eyes following. By the time you were taking a break, she was there, lingering at the edge of the sparring area. She pretended to be focused on her own workout  when Joaquin glanced in her direction but she didn’t hide her blatant stare when you looked at her.

You didn’t give a warning before storming over. You knelt to be at her level and she propped herself up on her elbows. She opened her mouth but you cut her off.

“Funny how you think I don’t notice the way you undress him with your eyes almost everyday.” You said flatly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She rolled her eyes.

“Look at the floor. Or the ceiling. Or anyone else in this place. Just keep your eyes off him.” You forced a smile that was anything but friendly. “Got it?”

“I’m so scared.” She said sarcastically, craning her neck to see around you.

“Listen. I can only be nice about this for so long. Some fights you’re not gonna win. And him?” You nodded towards him once. “No way.”

“May the best woman win then.” She shrugged and returned to her sit ups.

You kicked her braced feet away before heading back to Joaquin, earning a muttered “bitch” as you left. His brows furrowed but you waved him off. With a new anger in your veins, you knew you’d hit someone you shouldn’t soon, which made the next portion of your sparring more intense than necessary.

You were both covered in sweat by the time you were done. You had also both removed your shirts by then. Your muscles were burning with the effort and you assumed Joaquin’s were too, but by the way he was talking your ear off you wouldn’t have guessed.

“You’re pretty chatty.” You teased with a grin.

“You wouldn’t let me get a word in over there!” He sounded offended as he threw a hand towards the sparring area. “Anytime I tried to talk, you pounced.”

“I pounced?” You laughed. “What am I, a cat?”

“A feral one.” He muttered and you smacked his arm before you both laughed. “Definitely feral.”

“If I was feral, I’d bite.”

“You do!”

“I do not!”

“Didn’t you bite a kid in second grade?”

You whirled to face him and jabbed a finger into his chest. “You know good and well that I had a good reason!” You defended.

His hands went up in surrender but the grin was still plastered on his face.

“I felt threatened.”

“And biting was the only answer?” He tried and failed to keep his laughter contained.

“Yes! I was playing my own game, he tried to make me the prisoner in his war game with some other kid. You don’t put your arm-“

“Around someone’s neck and not expect to get bit.” He finished and you glared lightly at him. “At least you didn’t get suspended.”

“I cried in the principal’s office because I was scared of getting in trouble.” You deadpanned. “I don’t think I ever apologized to the kid, though.”

“And you still went on that field trip.” He shook his head, clicking his tongue. “I’m so disappointed in you, Y/N/N.”

“Oh no, whatever will I do now?” You dramatically put your hands to your heart.

“Just don’t bite me.” He shrugged, which earned another smack to his arm.

“I left my water. Grab my bag?” You began backing away towards the sparring corner.

“Yeah.” He nodded and went towards your cubby.

As you were grabbing your bottle, Kate and Yelena were stepping into the square. Kate waved enthusiastically at you and Yelena held a fist towards you. You bumped your own against hers and smiled towards Kate.

“How’s it going?” You asked. “Feeling stronger?”

“Today’s the day.” Kate nodded firmly.

“Ha!” Yelena responded loudly and you turned. “You think you’ll beat me?”

“Okay, you say that like it’s a joke.” Kate frowned.

“Was it not?” Yelena laughed. “C’mon, Kate Bishop.”

“Why do you still do that? Stop saying my name like that!” Kate urgently whispered.

“I don’t know, Lena. She might.” You added. You gave Kate a once over glance and then nodded slightly. “Yeah, I think she actually has biceps now.”

“See?” Kate threw an arm towards you. “Wait a second.” She furrowed her brows.

“Staying to find out?” Yelena asked, bouncing side to side on the balls of her feet.

“No, Joaquin and I are gonna try to catch a movie.” You nodded towards where you left your boyfriend. “Just came back for my water.”

“Oh!” Kate announced. “That reminds me…”

“You’re stalling.” Yelena complained.

“It’s important!” Kate insisted then turned to you again. “Sorry about before. I tried to tell her.”

“The new girl?”

She nodded, almost looking embarrassed, but you shrugged.

“I told her today in the nicest way I could to back off.” You waved a dismissive hand.

“What if she didn’t get the memo?” Yelena asked, focusing on something over your shoulder.

“Oh shit…” Kate looked at the same thing behind you.

“What are you two-“ You mumbled and turned to see for yourself. “Oh.”

You crossed your arms and watched for a moment. Joaquin was sitting on the floor with the new girl kneeling beside him. They were involved in some sort of conversation and you were just glad he had put his shirt back on. She exaggerated a laugh and he was confused for a second. Apparently, what he said hadn’t been that funny.

“I think you should start planning your friend’s funeral, Kate Bishop.” Yelena said flatly as the blonde reached out and put her hand on Joaquin’s forearm.

“No, it’s…” You began.

You knew Joaquin. You knew his mannerisms and body language better than anyone. He didn’t care to be talking to this girl, not in the way she was trying to talk to him. He had his phone in one hand and judging by the way he kept looking down at it, he would’ve rather been scrolling than talking to her.

“You’re better than me.” Kate offered. “Two warnings and she still acts like that? Friend or not, I’d slap the hell outta her.” She laughed slightly.

Her other hand landed on his forearm and her other moved to his upper arm. Your brows rose and as if that expression sent a signal, Joaquin looked over towards you with wide eyes.

“Pray for her.” Kate said simply as you took long strides to get back to Joaquin.

He stood as you got closer and she bounced up beside him. She stepped closer, one of her hands on his shoulder and the other reached for his hand.

“Ready to go?” You made a point of only speaking to and looking at Joaquin.

“Yeah.” He sighed in relief and shifted to get away from her touch. “We leave now, we’ll have enough time to shower first.”

“Did you get the tickets already?”

“I thought you were going to stick around and spot me.” The blonde pouted.

“I’ve got ‘em.” Joaquin answered. “And your bag, m’lady.” He bowed slightly as he offered you your bag.

You laughed slightly and slung the strap over your shoulder.

“But Joaquin!” She cried, grabbing his hand with both of hers. He immediately pulled away and she pursed her bottom lip in another pout.

“He already said he’s busy.” You snapped. “Go see if Kate or Yel have time to babysit.”

“I didn’t realize you were his mommy.” She said sarcastically.

You turned to face her fully but Joaquin pulled on your bag to force you back a step. He tapped his knuckles against your thigh and you shifted your weight closer to him.

“Seriously.” You threatened. “Get your hands off my man.”

“Scared?”

“I’m gonna kill her.” You ground your teeth and looked to Joaquin.

Quickly, he put his arm around your shoulders and guided you out the doors. She called after him but you lifted your hand to give her the middle finger. After a string of curses were directed at you, Joaquin closed his hand over yours with a laugh.

“Told you.” Joaquin said proudly as he opened the passenger door for you.

“Told me what?” You raised a brow.

“Feral.” He grinned.

You opened your mouth to argue then closed it. Maybe he was right, at least where he was concerned.

Feral. Possessive. Protective. Same thing, right?

[no-144444]

Hiyaa there!! Can I pls request a scenario with Oscar. Reader never had her first kiss (and that makes her nervous) and they talk about it and he's being really patient and gentle with her like hugs her closer kisses her and it's really cute and fluffy😊 that would be adorable and it's so Oscar. Thank youu!!!

first kisses- o.piastri

summary: being jack wolff's nanny is a pretty sick gig, especially when your old friend is an f1 driver and is interested in you...

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! reader

part one part two part three

���୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

23 with no romantic prospects probably should’ve made you feel worse about yourself than it actually did. Yes, you occasionally wondered what it would be like to have someone to love and cherish, but you knew it wasn’t exactly realistic. You were extremely busy, like, all the time. Being Jack Wolff’s live-in nanny was quite the chore, despite him being only one child. Don’t get me wrong, he was well-behaved and sweet, but he still had a packed schedule of going to F1 races every now and then. When he wasn’t spending his weekends in the Mercedes garage, he was busy spending them in his own garage. Jack was in the beginning stages of his karting career, and he was damn good at it too. He loved the rush of trying to go as fast as he possibly could through every corner, every chicane, every straight. When he took his helmet off after a race and ran straight to you, it was one of the best feelings in the world. You loved Jack like a little brother, he adored you like a second mother. 

⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“Why did we have to get up so early?” he yawned as you walked through the Harry Reid airport, just after landing in Las Vegas. Due to the fact that Jack was two public figures’ son, you two always got the craziest flight times to avoid crowds. 

You smiled, picking him up and placing him on his suitcase so he could sit while you pushed him. “Because your mom and dad missed you,” you explain. “And they want to see you as soon as possible.”

“I could’ve waited a little longer,” he mumbled. 

“Das ist nicht nett,” (that is not nice) you chuckled. “They miss you, and you haven’t exactly been very good at texting them back.” 

“But we could’ve had a race this weekend,” he whined. 

“We do, you’re just not racing in it,” you smirked as he rolled his eyes. All 7 year olds really were sassy. 

“Do you want me to ask your dad if we can go to a track for a little bit of the weekend?” you offered after watching his sad face.

The frown on his lips instantly turned into a smile. “Yes please! You’re the best!” 

The kid knew how to play you, you’d give him that. 

⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

It was 7am when you finally got checked into the hotel, and it was finally time for Jack to go see his parents. As much as he pretended he didn’t, most nights than not he would sneak into your bed and ask you to call one of them, so much so that you’d just made a time where you called each of them so he could talk. He had been getting better at the whole ‘long distant parenting’ but it still hurt him sometimes. Sometimes, he just wanted his dad, but his dad was 3,500km away at a race where their car was a piece of shit. 

You knocked on the door of their hotel room and it immediately opened to reveal a very excited Susie. “Jack!” she cheered, picking him up in his arms and hugging him tight as he giggled. Toto wrapped his arms around the both of them as they all reunited. 

You 4 have breakfast together where you popped the question about going to a kart track at some point over the weekend and they begrudgingly agreed, upset that they’d miss out on precious ‘Jack time’, but understanding of his want for more track time all the same. You had agreed to join them in the garage for the morning though, since seeing everyone again was nice. 

⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“God, I’ve created a monster,” Toto joked as you both sat and watched Susie showing Jack around the garage. 

You chuckled. Jack was obsessed with anything to do with cars. He loved his kart more than anything, and h e couldn’t wait to move up into single seaters. He also had a mechanical engineer as a nanny, which probably didn’t help all that much. “We’ve created a monster. I’m the one teaching him about tire temp and degradation,” you chuckled as Toto just put his head in his hands jokingly.

“How are you?” he turned to you. “Any news?”

“Nothing new, just Jack’s news, I guess,” you shrugged. To be honest, you loved your life. You loved nannying Jack, you loved living in Monaco, you loved being at a kart track every single weekend, but you knew that wasn’t the typical experience of every young adult. 

Toto squinted his eyes. “How are your friends?” 

“They’re good, we went over to London the other week to go see them, since Jack had a race there on the weekend,” you explained, knowing what Toto was trying to say. “Don’t worry about me, I’m taking care of myself just fine.” 

He nodded. “We worry about you too,” he shrugged. “You’re like another daughter to us, we want you to be happy.”

You smiled. “I am.”

“And any boyfriends-?”

“Shut up!” you playfully hit him to stop the awkward conversation that would follow. “Enough Toto.”

“What?” He feigned innocence. “I can’t be interested in your dating life?”

“Nope,” you shook your head. “No you can’t.” 

“Y/n!” Jack shouted as he ran over to you. “Can we go to the track now please?” 

You looked to Toto, who nodded, then off you went to go grab Jack’s things and get into the car. When you pulled up to the track and got him stretched and warmed up, you watched as he circled the track while Toto and Susie went over strategies for the weekend in the cafe of the place. Toto had booked it out for Jack (mostly so he or you wouldn’t get papped, but also because that’s how Jack likes tracks when he’s practising), or so you thought. About 40 minutes into you being there, half of the McLaren garage showed up in papaya, apparently ready to race.

“Hey Toto,” Zak smiled. “Jack’s looking fast out there.”

“Hi Zak, what’re you doing here?” 

“Racing,” he chuckled. 

“We’re supposed to have it booked out for the day,” Toto argued. 

You came in as the two men started getting heated (which didn’t take much) and pulled them away from each other as Susie went outside to keep an eye on Jack. “What’s the issue?”

“We have the track booked out, and they want to race,” Toto scoffed. 

“We also have the track booked out,” Zak explained. “Also hi Y/n, nice to see you.”

“Nice to see you too,” you smiled at him. “So just let Jack go until they’re done getting ready, they do a session, Jack does a session, and so on. We need to get out of here at 3 anyway, and you and Susie are leaving earlier.” 

They both pondered the deal, feeling rather stupid for not being able to compromise on their own. 

“Sounds fair,” they both said at the same time, then they went back to their respective groups. 

You went out to tell Jack, who agreed quickly, wanting to watch what the F1 drivers would do in a kart. You two watched at the sidelines as they went around the track, Jack literally taking notes beside you as you watched one kart only. Oscar Piastri. 

Oscar and you had been friends in boarding school, and you’d always had this inkling he liked you, but he never acted on it before you left school, so nothing ever came of it. You had definitely liked him back though. He was so nice to you, so sweet, so funny. He was just… Oscar. 

As Jack got back on track, Oscar came over to sit with you. “Hey,” He smiled. 

“Hi,” you smiled back, scooching over so there would be more space for him. On track was Jack v Lando, and Jack was winning. 

“How are you?” he asked. 

“I’m good, thanks, you?”

“Great,” he smiled. “It’s really nice to see you again.”

“It’s really nice to see you again.”

“I thought I’d seen you around the paddock but then I realised how strange that sounded so I just chalked it up to my imagination, which is an even weirder thing but, yeah. It’s nice to know you’re not just a figment of my imagination,” he chuckled, awkward and shy, just how you remember him. 

You laughed. “Yeah, not a figment of your imagination, just Jack’s nanny.” 

“Cool,” he nodded. “He’s a good driver.”

“He’s very good,” you agreed. “Every weekend we’re at tracks, it’s madness.”

“Where are you living now?” he asked. 

“Monaco,” you explained. 

“Me too,” he smiled. “We should meet up sometime.”

“I’d like that,” you nodded, and you couldn’t help but feel the charged air between you two. 

“I’d like that too.”

⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Asking for a night off was a nightmare. Both Susie and Toto had their noses stuck into your business no matter what, so they begged and pleaded to be told why, but you somehow kept your kind-of-date-not-really-a-date under wraps until you got to the restaurant. 

And it was nice. Oscar was just as sweet and funny as he was when you two first were friends. He even walked you back to the apartment, stopping before you went upstairs so as to not be seen by Toto or Susie. 

“I really had fun tonight,” he smiled, the cold Monaco air making his cheek red. 

“Me too,” you smiled. “It was really nice to catch up.”

He stepped closer, a nervous smile on his face. “Tonight was a date, right?”

“I-I’m- I don’t- I…” you trailed off, looking away from him as you both chuckled. 

“I’d like it to be,” he admitted. 

You nodded. “Me too.”

“So I can kiss you, right?” He smiled. 

Your heart slightly stopped, you’d never been kissed before. How did you even do it? Would he think you’re awful? Would this end the entire relationship?

“I don’t have to, I’d just… I’d like to,” he smiled understandingly. “If you’re not ready for that then that’s alright.”

“I just… I’ve never been kissed,” you admitted, deeply embarrassed. 

His jaw dropped. “You’ve never been kissed?” He asked despite himself. “Sorry, that sounded rude I-“

“It’s alright Oscar,” you shook your head. “I get what you mean.”

“No, I mean I’m just shocked, you’re so amazing and… yeah. It’s just surprising,” he chuckled. “I’m kind of honoured that I get to be the first.”

You chuckled. “Shut up.”

He chuckled. “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded, much too nervous to actually speak. He placed a hand on your cheek and leaned in, his lips softly meeting yours. 

And it felt good. It felt really good to kiss him. His other hand circled your waist as you tentatively placed your hands on either side of his face. When he pulled back you felt your heart stop once again. 

“You’re sure that was your first time?” He teased and you laughed. 

“Pretty sure,” you chuckled. 

“When can I see you again?” He asked, bashfully smiling.  

“I’ll be at the next race, or here,” you explained. “So whenever it works for you.”

“What about-”

“OSCAR?! You picked Oscar?!” Toto shouted, making both of you jump apart. “Absolutely not! Y/n get up here!” 

You sighed. “Text me about the date? Yeah?”

He nodded, laughing (trying to hide his terror of Toto) as he watched you go upstairs and start trying to explain to Toto.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[folkwhoredoll]

fiancée - drew starkey x fem!reader

word count: 0.4k

warnings/tags: fluff with sweet boyfriend!drew

masterlist

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The Greek sun kissed your skin as you wandered through the white-washed streets of a small coastal town, your fingers loosely intertwined with Drew’s. The two of you had slipped away for a much-needed break — his schedule had been packed with filming, and you had been craving some uninterrupted time together. Greece felt like a dream, with its sapphire waters and the scent of sun-ripened olives lingering in the air.

It had been peaceful. That was, until you found yourselves in this situation.

“So, how long have you two been engaged?” The elderly woman behind the bakery counter beamed at you, her deeply wrinkled hands clasped together in excitement.

Your eyes widened as you turned to Drew, waiting for him to correct her. This wasn’t the first time someone had mistaken you two for fiancés. You figured it was the way Drew looked at you — soft and full of something unspoken.

Drew, however, did not correct her.

Instead, he grinned, bringing your hand up to his lips in an overly dramatic display of affection. “Almost a year now,” he said smoothly, squeezing your fingers. “Best decision of my life.”

You nearly choked on air. “Excuse me?”

The woman gasped, absolutely delighted. “A year! How wonderful! You must let me give you something special. For the happy couple!” She was already bustling around the shop, packaging a box of freshly baked baklava before you could protest.

You elbowed Drew, whispering, “What are you doing?”

His grin widened. “Just roll with it, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart? Oh, he was enjoying this way too much.

The woman returned with the box, practically glowing. “For you, lovebirds. On the house! A small gift for your happiness.”

You hesitated, guilt creeping in. “Oh, we couldn’t—”

“Nonsense!” She waved you off. “Enjoy, enjoy!”

Drew threw an arm around your shoulder and shot you a wink before leading you out of the shop, the box of baklava in hand. Once outside, you smacked his arm. “What the hell was that?”

He laughed, completely unbothered. “It was either that or breaking her heart.”

“You could’ve just corrected her!”

“And miss out on free baklava?” He popped a piece into his mouth, offering you one with a smug look. “Not a chance, fiancée.”

You groaned, but against your better judgment, you took a bite. It was heavenly. Damn it.

“I can’t believe you,” you muttered, mouth full.

Drew leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple, voice teasing. “Better start practicing that signature, future Mrs. Starkey.”

You rolled your eyes, but as you walked hand-in-hand along the sunlit streets, you couldn’t shake the warmth blooming in your chest.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

a/n: hi everyone! i haven't been active in a while because of university :') but here's a short drew starkey fic for all of you! i made it fluffy because my last posts were all smut hehe i hope you liked it <3

[cinnawonbabe]

ATTENTION, PLEASE! (1)

pairings: professor!heeseung x student fem!reader

warnings: teacher x student relationship, forbidden affairs, smut, oral, both receiving, anal play, praise and spankings, legal age gap

overview: y/n was just like any other college girl, crushing on the young and attractive literature professor at the university she attended. one day she’s asked to come back after class and things get a little steamy. who knew being a teacher’s pet was fun?

taglist 🏷️: @nayeoniiz @mheretoreadff @deobitifull @riribelle @jakeswifez @yohanabanana @fkarchve @1013club @rizz00 @kpopjackie @isagistar @wheretheheckis-ssaki @freaky-enhamadswriter @manuosorioh

SORRY IF YOU ASKED FOR A TAG AND DIDN’T GET IT. I COULDN’T TAG MOST BECAUSE YOUR ACCOUNT WAS NOT POPPING UP FOR ME. PLEASE ENJOY! IF THIS DOES WELL AND GET 400 NOTES, I’LL POST A PART TWO!!

it was the first day back from spring break and to say y/n was excited was an understatement. she was overjoyed to see her friends again. while she was getting ready for her first class of the day, literature, and finishing the last touches to her makeup, her friend winter called. y/n answered, putting the phone on speaker so she could multitask talking and finishing getting herself ready.

"girl where are you? class is about to start," winter whisper-yelled through the phone. y/n checked the time, seeing that she was in fact behind schedule.

"fuck, i'm gonna be late," she said, rushing to put her shoes on. after making sure her uniform was neat, she grabbed her bag and phone before running out the door.

"and who are you trying to look cute for?" winter joked with a laugh upon y/n switching the call over to a facetime.

"no one. i just felt the need to dress up today. is the professor there?" she answered while speed walking over to the building her class was held in.

"no. they haven't arrived yet, so you're lucky for once," winter said with a laugh. "hurry though, i saved you a spot," she added and y/n hummed in response as she approached the building.

she made her way inside, picking up her pace so she wouldn't be that late, but ultimately made it to class.

"fucking finally. you're here," winter laughed, taking her bag off the seat next to her for y/n to sit in. "still no professor?" y/n asked and winter shrugged not knowing herself.

you know, after 15 minutes, if a teacher hasn't arrived to class after the set time has passed, class is canceled?" one male student in the back stated.

y/n turned back to see it was one of the football players. most students got to talking with excitement as it was getting close to that 15 minute mark while others were upset that they didn't get to see the professor today, y/n was one of the students who was pretty bummed out.

just when some students were packing up their supplies, the classroom door opened up.

professor lee heeseung rushed in class. "sorry for the wait guys. i was in an important staff meeting about the fair we're having for the homecoming events next week and we kind of got carried away." he said in between breaths.

he took off his blazer and set it down on the podium that was situated in the front of the room. he rolled up his sleeves. "anyone else feeling a bit hot or is that just me?" he asked, chuckling to himself.

all the girls, including y/n, couldn't help but stare at him. watching him intently.

he has to know what he's doing. he just knows how attractive he is. y/n thought to herself.

"no it's hot in here sir. me and my friends think the air conditioning unit has stopped working." one female student stated.

heeseung nodded his head in acknowledgement, "oh i see. i'll have to make a complaint about that later. let me write that down so i don't forget." he said walking over to his desk situated in the corner of the room.

he pulled out a sticky notepad from one of his drawers and grabbed a pen from the cuphold on the desk and scribbled a mental note to himself there.

"okay, considering i was way behind my schedule. i'm going to give you all a break and just let you either stay here to make up work or you can just leave. it's completely up to you all." heeseung said, looking around the classroom after he placed the notepad back on his desk.

most students didn't hesitate to collect their things and bid heeseung goodbye or thank him for his kindness.

of course he smiled and bid those goodbye before turning his attention back to the few students that did decide to stay. which consisted of a two male students, one being a literature major and the other that just so happened to be asleep and the rest we girls that just wanted an excuse to stare at the professor.

"assuming that you all are here for help and to catch up on work so feel free to ask me any questions, okay?" he said once more before heading back to his desk.

y/n watched his backside as he headed to his desk and wondered what his back muscles looked like under his dress shirt. once he sat down he looked back towards the class, catching y/n stare. she imma looked down in embarrassment and busied herself with her studies, not catching the little smirk that made his way on his face.

y/n felt movement beside her and looked over to see her seatmate fixing herself up before calling out to the professor. "professor lee? i need help on one of the older assignments you gave. can you give me a but of assistance with it?" y/n heard her ask.

he nodded and signaled for her to come to his desk and so she did. getting up from her seat, swaying her hips purposely in the process.

she bent over his desk, showing her cleavage to him as she placed her paper down for 'help'.

that's usually how things goes. most girls go out there way to get his attention but from all the things y/n has seen, it doesn't seem to work. he wasn't phased by it and just gave her the help she needed before he sent her back to her seat.

another girl failed. y/n of course hasn't. in fact, she never tried to because she was too scared and too shy to even hold a conversation or even ask him for help but that never stopped him from trying to talk to her.

he had taken an interest in calling on her sometimes for questions she never volunteers herself from.

usually that would end up with her stuttering to answer it or having her frozen from being put on the spot.

after a while of sitting in a somewhat silent classroom, heeseung cleared his throat, gaining everyone's attention. "attention everyone class is just about over and my next class will be here soon." he stated, looking at his wristwatch.

everyone packed up their things and headed out of the class. y/n was just about to leave before she was stopped by heeseung's voice suddenly calling out to her.

y/n stopped where she was near the classroom door, turning to him as he sat at his desk. "yes, professor lee?" she asked. he motioned for her to come to him, waving his hand in a signaling gesture. she was hesitant at first, she wasn't sure if she should or not. she swallowed her own pride and made her way over to him.

"so i wanted to talk to you to see if you'd like to help me later with gathering things for the art and theatre club. they'll be doing most of the creative work and i promised the directors that i'll head to the storage area in the left wing and get the supplies they needed. i can't do it myself, so would you like to help a poor old man like me?" he asked with pleading eyes.

y/n was a bit speechless as to why he chose her out of all people. he wants me to help him? she thought to herself. there was no way out of all the girls in this class, he chose her. she stood there unresponsive for a bit, lost in her own thoughts. it began to worry him a little bit from her sudden quietness. "it's okay if you don't want to i can always just ask-" he couldn't finish his sentence as y/n interrupted him with a slightly raised voice. "no!"

she realized the tone and volume of her voice and felt hot from the embarrassment. she didn’t notice the change in his demeanor, a slight smirk appearing on his face knowing his plan was working.

"uhm i meant no it's okay professor lee, i can help you. i don't mind at all!" she stated a bit too eagerly.

she mentally cursed at herself because of it but nonetheless, heeseung didn't seem to mind. "great!! just meet me back here around 7pm, okay?" he smiled softly, causing y/n’s heart to flutter. he definitely knows the effect he has on her.

she nodded her head in agreement before flashing him a small smile in return. “yes sir,” she retorted before walking out the classroom door. she was lost in her thoughts once again, geeking over the fact that he wanted alone time with her. this was truly a dream come true.

her thoughts soon interrupted by her best friend winter spooking her, “hey!” winter yelled a little bit as she approached her. y/n grabbed her chest as she calmed herself down. “my bad, didn’t mean to scare you,” winter joked before bursting out into a fit of giggles, earning a slap on the arm from her friend. “that’s not funny win,” y/n stated, rolling her eyes playfully as she walked off with winter following close behind her. “so what was that all about?” she asked, jumping in her face as she interrogated her. y/n gently pushed her back, smiling wide as the scene replayed in her mind. even though it just happened moments prior to this conversation, she couldn’t help but reminisce about how he chose her. winter nudged her, bringing her back to reality. “soooo are you going to tell me why hot stuff over there held you back?” she questioned again but y/n only giggled in response, causing her bestie to groan at in annoyance. “its nothing really, he just wants me to help him with something for theatre class and i told him i would,” she replied honestly.

winter stared at her intensely, looking for any glimmer of doubt. she was trying to see if she was lying to her or not. y/n stared back at her clueless as to why her best friend was seemingly trying to intimidate her for some reason. is she jealous? she thought. ultimately, winter shrugged it off. i guess she was being truthful. “well good luck and make sure you use a condom, i’m not ready to be an auntie just yet,” she laughed, nudging her friend. y/n’s eyes widened upon hearing those words leave her mouth. before she could smack her friend, winter took off running, satisfied with the reaction she got from her bestie. y/n followed shortly behind, yelling out threats to her friend as she did so.

__________________________

time seemed to have moved on so fast. it was already 7pm and y/n was making her way back to professor heeseung’s classroom. i hope this doesn’t look suspicious. she was having second thoughts. maybe this was a bad idea. she didn’t want to get caught up in something that wasn’t true, even though she wished it was. she didn’t want people to think she was having a secret affair with her teacher, but then again she didn’t actually mind it at all. she longed for him to caress her ever so gently. she wanted to feel his lips against her own but who didn’t? every girl on campus wanted a piece of him but can you blame them? he’s in his late twenties teaching hormonal nineteen and twenty year olds. a lot of his students were fresh out of highschool so seeing a young professor was like winning the lottery.

eventually she made it towards his classroom door, peering inside. it was dark and the only form of light was coming from the hallway where she stood. she scanned the room as best as she could but there was no sign of him. maybe he had forgotten. as she was about to walk away she ran face first into something or someone. she looked up and was face to face with heeseung himself. oh god. she thought. a light blush painted her face as she realized how close they were so she took a few steps back. “sorry, i should’ve been paying more attention to where i was going,” she apologized, her eyes averting her vision everywhere but his.

the view was astonishing to him. their slight height difference boosted his ego. it empowered him. he knew exactly what he what he was doing. y/n was timid and kept to herself. she wasn’t like the other girls he taught.

everyday a female student would force themselves onto him any chance he got. he was used to all the attention he gotten. he may not have shown it but he did enjoy it. so it was weird that y/n never seemed to try. he knew she found him attractive but she never seem to give him the time of day. so he started making moves. calling on her during class even though she never raised her hand, taking initiative to talk to her after class whenever he could because he knew it made her heart race. the innocence she portrayed had drawn her in. it was something he had to obtain, more so, alter it. he wanted her to be his, to hold, to control. that’s exactly how they ended up here. he falsified the ‘i need help’ teacher act. he knew she would fall for it. she was oblivious to it all.

he stared at her for a moment before he spoke, “it’s okay, i was just heading in,” he stated before moving passed her and towards the door. he unlocked it and entered the room, holding the door open for her. “are you joining me still?” he asked tenderly, his voice soft and sweet. it made her heart skip a beat. he was pure gold to her. a soft hearted, well-mannered, absolutely beautiful, educated and elegant man was spending alone time with her. she was head over heels for him.

she hummed in response and followed in right behind him. upon entering he closed the door, discreetly locking it without her noticing and flicked on the lights. “i hope you don’t mind, i have to gather up a few paperwork before we head that way, is that fine?” he asked, making his way towards his desk. he sat down, picking up groups of scattered papers that sat disorganized on his desk. he neated placed them into piles before putting them in his briefcase that he brought with him. y/n walked closer, gazing over at him. she watched

him quietly, fiddling with her fingers as she did so. she couldn’t help but think about what winter said earlier. imagining her professor fucking her on this desk right now.

images of him pounding into her core flushed her mind, making her core leak from the slight horniness that had taken over her. she was so lost in thought she couldn’t hear heeseung calling out to her. he then cleared his throat, finally gaining her attention. she looked up at him, face flustered. she looked absolutely stunning to him; no, beautiful actually. he wanted to ruin her. “you’re one of my best students?” he asked, getting up from his seat and walked over to the front of his desk where he leaned up against it.

she was dumbfounded, “i am?” she asked innocently, her brows furrowed slightly in confusion. heeseung found it adorable, she really didn’t have a clue in the world. “precisely. you’ve never been the type to throw yourself at me. that’s what i like about you,” he continued, making her all flustered again. he truly was enjoying this moment right now. “i’m just not the kind of girl. you’re my teacher not a love interest,” she said truthfully, but he didn’t like that response. he knew better than that and so did she. they both wanted each other more than anything right now.

he began to loosen his tie, then slowly unbuttoned his dress shirt. “is that really how you feel?” he asked, finally pulling his shirt open, revealing his toned abdomen. she stared in awe as she watched him strip in front of her. his shirt sliding off his shoulder and falling to the ground. her eyes trailed down his figure. he was a sight to see that’s for sure. she noticed a tent forming in his pants and she audibly gasped unintentionally. a smirk appeared on his lips. gotcha. he thought.

she didn’t know how to react in this very moment. what was she supposed to do? her very attractive literature teacher was standing shirtless in front of her. that’s every girl on campus dream and yet here she was living it.

“i-i don’t know if this is appropriate professor,” she stuttered, averting her gaze towards the floor. she stared at her sneakers until another pair of shoes came into view. she froze. too scared to look up now knowing how close he was to her. he took his hand and gently tilted her head upward so they were facing each other. she gulped, now meeting eyes with a different side of her professor. and truth be told, she was enjoying every second of it. “i want you more than anything right now,” he said, disregarding her previous statement of whether this was appropriate between the two. he didn’t care. nine years wasn’t that big of an age gap for him. she was nineteen and he was twenty- eight years old. how bad could this be?

he looked her in her eyes, searching for any sign he needed to know what his next move was. there it was, like a flicker. he smiled mischievously, pondering his next move but was surprised by her crashing her lips onto his.

she kissed him hungrily. she couldn’t hold it any longer. she needed him right now.

heeseung snaked his arm around her, grabbing her thighs to signal her to jump. she did, jumping into his embrace and wrapping her legs around his waist as their lips danced in one another.

he carried her to his desking, next faltering this kiss. he sat her on the edge, slipping his tongue in her mouth and explore every crevice of it. she moaned into the kiss, sucking on his tongue as he fiddled with the hem of her shirt. he broke the kiss, pulling her shirt over her head, taking it off and tossing it on the floor.

y/n took that time to catch her breath before he smashed his lips back on to hers. she grabbed his belt loosening it up but before she could pull them down he stopped her, grabbing ahold of her hands, “not so fast baby, lets take it slow.”

she whined, disappointed and desperate. he laughed, placing a small and shirt kiss on her lips. he unclipped her bra, sliding it off her. her breasts we plumped and perky. just how he liked them. he attached his mouth to one breast, sucking and swirling his tongue around her nipple. she bit back a few moans that threatened to slip out. she felt elastic. she knew what they were doing was so wrong but it felt so right. the adrenaline rush she got from this turned her on more. at any given moment they could be caught by anyone, a dean, a security guard, or a fellow student passing by.

she didn’t care at all, it thrilled her actually. fueling her desires even more. she watched and he alternated between each of her breast, leaving love bites all over her chest before proceeding to kiss down to the hem of her skirt, he didn’t care to take those off, he wanted to fuck her in her cute little uniform skirt so he pushed them up to get a better view of her leaking core.

a small chuckle left his lips upon seeing how soaked her panties were just from them kissing. she felt a little embarrassed hearing him laugh and tried to shut her legs but he stopped her from doing so. “don’t hide baby, she’s beautiful. let’s she was she looks like without these in the way,” he reassured her, sliding her pantines to the side to get a better look and her dripping core.

her little cunt made him go crazy. he looked up at her as he licked between her flaps. the warmth of his tongue sent shivers down her spine. he placed small kisses on her clit, edging her on. he wanted to tease her and have her begging for more.

y/n was too impatient and grabbed a fistful of his hair, shoving his face into her leaky cunt, heeseung obliged, giving her what she wanted. he began to eat her out, sucking on her clit and flicking his tongue in a way that made her toes curl. soft moans escape her mouth but she didn’t care. everything felt so good right now. place her legs above his shoulders and started to slowly grind against his face. the pleasure building up as she felt ecstatic. she threw her head back, moaning loudly as she continued to hump his face. he watched her as she got closer to her climax, he took two of his digits and plunged them deep into her pretty little cunt.

a loud gasp was heard from her, feeling his fingers deep inside him. he thrusted them faster, curling them as he hit her sweet spot, earning beautiful moans from y/n. he absolutely loved it. he was marking what was rightfully his. he continued his pace as she grew closer to her climax. he sucked a little harder on her clit, humming, sending vibrations to her core. a familiar pit grew in her stomach.

she was close, so so close and couldn’t contain it any longer. she screamed, forgetting where she was for a moment. her back arching as she squirted into his mouth, causing him to choke a little bit as her juices hit the back of his throat. she rode out her orgasm and she grinded on his face more before falling back onto his desk breathless.

heeseung stood up, dropping his pants to the floor as he looked down at her tired little figure laying on his desk. “we’re not finished yet, angel,” he said, stroking his long and thick member in his hand. she looked up, her eyes widened. there was no way in hell that was going to fit in her. “can daddy have some head baby?” he asked softly and she nodded, getting off his desk and kneeling before him. he cooed, watching her doe eyes stare up at him. he was loving this view of her better. she parted her lips slightly as he began to slap his cock against her face.

“open your mouth wide baby,” he instructed and she obliged, parting her lips more as s

he slid his cock right in. his breath hitched in his throat. the warmth of her mouth engulfing his seven inches did something to him. he let her take control, watching her bob her head on his thickness, taking every inch and girth of his cock. “yes baby. just like that. you’re doing so good for me,” he praised, encouraging her more. she forced herself to deep throat him, gagging as she did. he grunted at the feeling of her throat hugging his member, her gagging made the feeling even better.

her eyes started to brim with tears as his cock hit the back of her throat, drool dripping down her chin.

she took her hand and stroked him while sucking him off. this pleasure alone could’ve made him cum but he was determined to last. he grabbed her by her hair, pulling her off him to keeping him for cumming then and there. she winced from the harsh grip but didn’t stop it. she liked how rough he was getting. it turned her on even more.

he bent down crashing his lips onto hers. he didn’t care that she just had his cock in his mouth, he was a real man like that. kissing her hard and tasting himself on her before he pulled back. “open your fucking mouth!” he exclaimed, and she did without hesitation. he spit in her mouth and she swallowed it so effortlessly. “you like that my nasty little slut?” he asked and she whined in response.

he slipped his cock back into her mouth, fucking her throat hard, she choked out a cry around his member. he didn’t care. he kept fucking her mouth hard and deep, moaning loudly. “fuck just like that baby,” he said once more. he felt his climax coming soon so he pulled right back out. “bend over my desk,” he ordered. she got up slowly, her legs wobbling a bit. he couldn’t help but laugh, “don’t laugh,” she pouted and he cooed at her, he helped her lay her stomach flat onto his desk, her bottom side completely exposed.

he bit his lip at the sight in front of him, rubbing his hands against her firmly plumped ass cheeks. he needed to mark them. he took his big hand and smack down on her ass hard, causing a scream of pain and pleasure from y/n. this was all so new to her. she never knew she’d like being treat like a fuck toy by her hot professor. he brought a side of her she didn’t know she possessed. he lashed at her ass a few times, the classroom echoing from skin slapping and cries coming from y/n. who knew being a teacher's pet could be so fun.

handprints now decorated her ass and he was more that pleased to know that it was because of him. only he could have her like this.

he positioned himself at the entrance of her core, “spread for me baby,” he told her softly. she reached back, grabbing her ass cheeks and spread them open; giving him more access to come right on in. he spat between her crack, using his dick to wipe it down towards her cunt before sliding the tip in. they both moaned out in pleasure upon contact.

she felt every bit of his cock slide into her tight little cunt before he bellowed out. his whole member filled her to the brim. he sat there for a moment, letting her adjust to his size before he began to move. slowly thrusting in and out of her, he pace precise and steady.

the desk began to squeak against the floor as he thrusted harder than before, yelps of pleasure falling from her lips. he was digging into her guts. it felt like his tip was touching the inside of her stomach. her moans encouraging him to go harder. he dugges his cock deeper into her, her ass clapping against his skin. the room filled with the sounds of them fucking. he hoped they wouldn’t get caught but parts of him did. he wanted people to see the whore he was making out of her. he wanted people to know who she belonged to. he felt her wet cunt hug his girth, bringing both of them to their high, he fucked her harder, sliding his thumb in her ass. she screamed once more from the unexpected intrusion. fuck. he thought.

the pleasure was becoming too much for her, she couldn’t handle it any longer. both her holes were filled, a sensation she never knew she needed. “fuck baby i’m gonna cum,” he said and she could only moan out incoherent nonsense in response. that drove him nuts. he picked up his pace, fucking her to her climax. she cried out loud as the pleasure was unbearable and came hard once again.

this drove heeseung to his climax as well, cumming deep and hard into her. they hadn’t worn a condom. his cum filling her deep and oozing out with every little thrust he gave before him finally pulled out. he placed a kiss on her back before watching his thick load spill right out of her cunt. he didn’t care that they didn’t play it safe. to be honest, baby didn’t sound that bad to him. she was stuck with him regardless.

he reached over to the tissue box on his desk and began to clean her up and help her get dressed before dressing himself. she sat back up on his desk, her makeup ruined from all the sweat and tears she indured with getting her brains fuck out.

“you’re mine princess, got it?” he stated, pulling her close. she tiredly hummed in response, too warn out to say a word. a small smile formed on both of their faces before they snuck back out and went their separate ways.

the next day rolled around and y/n was heading to class where she met up with winter. “so how was it?” winter asked, and y/n furrowed her brows. “how was what?” she asked and winter laughed.

“how was it when you sucked his dick?” she joked, causing y/n to freeze. how did she know? did someone see us? she thought. winter nudged her friend. “i’m just joking god. i know nothing happened. you don’t have it in you to do something of that nature,” winter assured her, causing her to relax again. she didn’t know after all. y/n laughed, “i don’t think i could ever do anything like that,” she lied.

their conversation was cut short upon professor heeseung entering the class room. “good morning everyone!” he greeted, and most of them greeted back. him and y/n locked eyes momentarily, causing her to blush and look away before he began today’s lesson.

winter grew a little suspicious of that little encounter but said nothing.

if only she knew what was to come in the near future.

THE END!!

[baepsays]

Musician Geto Suguru and his never-ending beef with his bandmates over your attention.

The thing is, as their main producer and just a very sought-after producer in the industry, he's barely able to leave his studio. Things were different before the scandal, before he was reintroduced to you, and before you two went official. His schedule was simple then—studio, recordings, shows, parties and clubs he was a regular at, getting high out of his mind on coke and weed, and going back to his studio. He barely saw any light, and his apartment felt foreign; hotel rooms were more homely than his apartment. Now it's lived in, with traces of you and the life he is building with you. Your—and now also his—scoundrel cat's claw marks are everywhere; there are stains on the couch, and all the smooth and shiny furniture is now matted. He also prefers his home studio, which he never came around to using, much better than the one at the company.

To simply say, things are mundane in the best way possible. Having lunches and dinners with his bandmates and just talking about things other than work or how he's losing himself was much more fun, he has to say. Especially when no one is throwing punches at him backstage, ahem—Sukuna—ahem. Of course it took more effort to carve out this new usual than how he used to just live off of drugs, caffeine, burning through cigarettes, and barely any food. He much prefers the boring days where he just goes from work to home to see you only at the end of the day, of course, not more than when you come to their shows. But he'll take anything, just to have you around for more than the mornings before and nights after work; it's a privilege. Even having you for more than just 3 shows for a tour is a blessing, due to the vast difference in your schedules.

Which is why he truly looks forward to days when you drop by to have lunch with him. Those weekdays are always a highlight of his week. So when he has to compete with his own bandmates for your attention or the home-cooked lunch you make for him to eat with him in the privacy of his studio, preferably sitting on his lap.

He wants to fight his own bandmates as violently as he used to. Choso, he gets; after all, Choso is the sweetest of them all; it sometimes does not make any sense to him how he ended up in this edgy rock band. But then again, where was Suguru going to find a vocalist and guitarist of Choso’s caliber? Yet still, Suguru does not appreciate it when he takes up your time when you two exchange recipes. Then there is Toji, always barging in to steal the precious food you made for Suguru, eating up most of the food while always making excuses about just one small bite. Suguru would have made Shiu (their CEO) kick Toji out of the company itself, just because of this petty reason, if there was anyone else better on the drums than him. 

Then there is Sukuna. Probably the one who pisses him off the most. Because why is the broody, scary, and one of the quietest men that Suguru knows like a social butterfly around you? Sure, you legally represent their band, but why is he so chatty around you about everything and anything? Is it not enough that he has to deal with one social butterfly, aka the nation's most desirable man and industry's favorite actor, Gojo Satoru, snitching out Suguru to you? There's now also Sukuna, snitching to you about how Suguru skipped meals to hole himself up in his studio for days or smoked more than two cigarettes a day. The worst part is when you drop by, you text in the group chat you are in with them to see if they would be at work that day. And you bring extra food for them or invite them sometimes to eat out with you two (and yet Toji still manages to steal off of Suguru's plate), and if it's just a you and Suguru kind of day, you still see them before or after your boyfriend locks you up in his studio with him.

Just like today, when you dropped by with a packed lunchbox for him and got roped up, yet again, with his bandmates. He got your text at exactly 13:34 PM that you entered the building, and sure, his studio was on the 19th floor, but it took only 5 minutes or so to get there. Unfortunately for him, he had to wait more than 30 minutes for you because you texted him you were just a floor below, in their practice room with his bandmates. And when 40 minutes were about to pass, Suguru had to essentially go down and abduct you by carrying you on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and making a run for it with your bag in his other hand. He could hear Sukuna yelling his name from behind, but he made it just in time to the elevator to get away with you.

“The only reason why I will ever go fully solo is because of your little fan club.” He walked into his studio while grumbling and with you still dangling on his shoulder.

“Issok, I will replace you.” He threw you on the black leather couch and lay on top of you, like he just fought an army of hungry coyotes and ran a marathon at the same time. “Hmm, I see you guys are scheming behind my back now.” He looked up at you from where he buried his face in your chest.

“I say it's very up front.” You giggled and pushed away the loose strands of his hair covering his face, and he didn't reply. Instead, he lifted himself off of you to hover and then moved up to kiss you. It was sweet, smiling, warm faces basically pressed together. Everything still feels surreal, how mundane life is right now for him considering even just two years ago the kind of mess he got himself into. That how his life looked doomed after that moment, and yet here he was.

“I have this new track in the works.” He broke off the kiss and hovered over you with his hooded eyes and a smirk so sleazy, it always made you wonder about your life choices. “Oh, am I hearing it?” You raised your brows at him, and his smirk only widened into a half smile.

“Nope. You're getting on it.” Which basically translates to, ‘I am about to make you moan, and the recording is going into the track.’ You threw your head back into the couch as you tried to push him away and groaned in annoyance. Which was not much avail to you when, despite your efforts, he nuzzled his face in your neck and started leaving a trail of kisses from the base of your neck to your jaw, then up to your lips. And when his lips met yours, a small moan just absentmindedly left your lips as his lips slotted with yours. Suguru’s lips stretched into a big smile while his eyes remained closed, and he continued kissing you until he stopped to murmur into your mouth.

“Ooh. Save all of that for the track.”

FIND MORE OF MY WORKS HERE II FIND MORE ABOUT MUSICIAN GETO

a/n: dividers by @/hyuneskkami

you can think about this as the epilogue to the musician geto au :3c which will take time. I have not graduated yet lol fuck lab exams and i am brainrotted by prince geto soooooo. you can assume what the scandal may beeeee you will be finding that and more band dynamics in the fic!

[lucy-literates]

Well, Lewis would be possessive of his girl 🤭

Next idea is again with a younger reader (28 years old) and she is Roscoes nanny and they fall in love :)

Greetings :)

A/N: I'm glad you enjoyed it! Hopefully, you enjoy this one too! Ibox is open :)

The Heart He Didn't See Coming

You were hired to take care of Roscoe. That was it.

Just a temporary gig—two months, max—while Lewis figured out travel schedules and recovered from back-to-back races. You’d been recommended by a friend of his physio, and your background in animal behavior and gentle energy made the decision easy.

Still, Lewis hadn’t expected you.

He hadn’t expected the way Roscoe took to you almost immediately, curling at your feet within twenty minutes of meeting you, snorting contentedly as you scratched the perfect spot behind his ear like you'd known him for years.

And he definitely hadn’t expected the sound of your laughter in his kitchen to feel like something he’d been missing.

“You sure you’re not feeding him treats under the table?” Lewis asked one morning, as Roscoe followed you around with that adoring, bulldog loyalty that had taken even him months to earn.

“I only give him carrots,” you replied, turning to him with a grin. “You’re the one sneaking him bites of your toast, champion.”

His smirk deepened. “Can’t help it. He looks at me like I hung the moon.”

You tilted your head. “So do you, sometimes.”

Lewis blinked. You didn’t even realize what you’d said—or maybe you did, because you turned away quickly to refill Roscoe’s water bowl, humming like it hadn’t just made his chest go tight.

That was the beginning of the ache.

It wasn’t supposed to be romantic.

He was older. Busier. Constantly surrounded by people and noise and cameras. You were quieter. Sunshine and calm. Someone who moved through life like it didn’t owe you anything, and still, you chose joy.

But when you walked Roscoe through the paddock at Silverstone—laughing as he tried to chase a golf cart—and handed Lewis a little cloth-wrapped lunch you’d packed for him, just in case the catering was late, he’d stood there for a moment too long, something warm rising in his throat.

“You’re ridiculous,” he’d said softly.

“Is that your way of saying thank you?”

He smiled. “Maybe.”

After that, things got blurry around the edges.

One evening in Monaco, the sky cracked open unexpectedly.

You and Roscoe had gone for your usual walk along the waterfront, but the rain hit faster than forecast. By the time you got home, soaked and laughing, Roscoe was a damp loaf of contentment at your side.

Lewis opened the door before you even knocked.

“Jesus, you’re drenched—get in, quick.” He grabbed a towel and gently rubbed Roscoe down while you toed off your wet sneakers.

You were dripping in the hallway, mascara smudged slightly, Lewis’s hoodie shoved into your arms without him thinking twice.

It was warm. Soft. Smelled like cedarwood and whatever expensive cologne he wore sparingly but perfectly.

“Go change,” he said, “you’ll catch a cold.”

You returned a few minutes later, barefoot and wearing the hoodie over your leggings. Roscoe was curled in his usual spot by the couch, and Lewis looked up at you with something unreadable in his eyes.

“You should’ve called me,” he said. “I would’ve picked you up.”

You blinked. “You were busy. Besides, it’s just rain.”

He shook his head, then patted the spot next to him on the couch. “Come sit. You’re always running around after my wellbeing. Let me return the favour for once.”

You hesitated—but then sat.

You didn’t mean to fall asleep. Not really. But the hoodie was warm and Roscoe was snoring and Lewis’s hand moved gently over your shoulder while you listened to him talk about his next race strategy in that low, rhythmic tone.

When you woke up, your head was on his chest.

And his arm was around you.

Things changed after that.

Not drastically. Just... quietly.

Lingering glances. Soft touches. A new depth to your late-night conversations. He started asking you questions that had nothing to do with Roscoe: What did you want from life? Had you ever been in love? What scared you?

You didn’t ask him the same things out loud. You didn’t need to. You watched the way he talked to his team, how gently he moved around people, how he stood on the edge of the ocean sometimes like he was still searching for something.

One night, as you handed him a mug of peppermint tea, he said it—so softly you nearly missed it:

“You make this place feel like home.”

Your breath caught.

“It’s because you finally stopped running,” you whispered.

There was a pause. Then his hand found yours.

“No,” he said. “It’s because I found something worth staying for.”

You kissed him a few seconds later.

It wasn’t rushed. It was the kind of kiss that built over weeks. Careful. Reverent. Your fingers slipped into his curls, and he hummed softly against your mouth like the moment had been waiting for you both.

Roscoe snorted in his sleep. You both laughed.

The next few weeks were a blur of quiet touches and shared mornings.

He kissed your shoulder while you prepped Roscoe’s meals. You slid handwritten notes into his travel bags. You didn’t go public—not right away—but his team knew. And they all smiled when you were around, like you were exactly what he needed.

But then the press found out.

Photos. Speculation. Headlines: “Roscoe’s Nanny, Hamilton’s New Flame?”

It wasn’t cruel—but it was invasive. You panicked. You didn’t want to be seen as a trophy, or someone temporary.

“I never wanted to be a scandal,” you said one night, eyes shiny. “I didn’t want to be a story someone clicks on.”

Lewis shook his head and crossed the room to hold you.

“You’re not a scandal,” he said firmly. “You’re not a story. You’re the person who brings Roscoe his toy at bedtime and sings along to my awful shower playlists. You’re the one thing in my life that feels real.”

You blinked. He tucked a hand beneath your chin.

“And if the world can’t see that… then I’ll show them.”

Three days later, he posted a photo.

No caption. Just you, Roscoe, and him on a balcony, wrapped in blankets, sipping tea. Your head on his shoulder. Roscoe snoozing across both your laps.

It went viral in seconds.

But the response shocked you.

“This is the softest thing I’ve ever seen.” “I want what they have.” “Protect this trio at all costs.”

Your inbox flooded with kindness. People saw you. And more importantly—they saw the love.

A few months later, Lewis took you to a beach on your day off. It was quiet. Peaceful. Roscoe ran in wide circles, barking happily at the waves.

You sat on a blanket, his arm around you, sun low in the sky.

Then he called Roscoe over.

There was a velvet box tied to Roscoe’s collar.

Your heart skipped.

“It’s not a ring,” Lewis said quickly. “Not yet. I just... wanted to ask if we can keep doing this. You. Me. Roscoe. All of it.”

You opened the box. Inside was a small gold charm: a tiny dog paw next to a heart.

“Yes,” you said, instantly.

He kissed you again, deeper this time.

Roscoe barked once. Loudly. Offended at being ignored.

You both laughed against each other’s mouths.

And maybe love hadn’t come in the way you expected. But it arrived exactly when it was meant to.

With muddy pawprints, fresh tea, and the softest man you’d ever known.

[little-writers-posts]

Keeping You Warm (The Milkman x F!Reader)

Author's Note: It's been a long (LONG) time since I wrote smut, so please excuse anything, plus English is not my native language so I apologise for any mistakes. But I do hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ Smut. However, it's quite light/soft, so to speak. The reader has a female genitalia.

Word Count: 1.957

“Double shift again, Francis?” I asked over the phone.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” I heard Francis’ tired voice say in almost a whisper.

“Is there really no other person who could take the shift? It’s the third time this week, Francis. You’re killing yourself.” I sighed as I rested my head on my hand.

“Not really; everyone has been quitting lately because of the rise in the number of the doppelgangers' sights.” I heard the sound of glass bottles clattering in the background.

“Just… Don’t push yourself too hard, okay? You’re already tired and worn out. I understand that there’s a job that needs to be done, but you’re human.”

“I know. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of myself. Don’t wait up for me, okay? Get your rest. You need it more than I do. Bye.”

“Bye.” I hung up the phone, lowered my head, and laid it on the table.

It has been nearly two weeks since I last saw Francis, which is foolish since we live in the same apartment. However, due to our jobs and taking shifts, our schedules haven't been exactly the same. It’s actually gotten worse because he’s been taking double shifts to cover the lack of people, and now he has to deliver the milk and stay an extra shift preparing all the packs for the next day, which means not only collecting the empty bottles but also refilling them and sorting them out in the boxes. We only see each other when the other one is asleep since I start my shifts early, and he only gets home quite late.

As I was lost in thought, someone knocked on the window. Steven was waving his papers to get into the building.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, proceeding with my work.

Eventually, my shift ended, and I went to my and Francis’ apartment. While setting down my things, I checked my schedule for the next day, and a big smile spread across my face. It was a day off. I decided to wait up for Francis, so for the next few hours, I occupied myself with getting dinner ready and tidying up the house. When I ran out of things to do, I sat in the living room watching one of my favorite shows.

It was past midnight when I heard the keys to the front door. Francis walked in looking as tired as ever, sighing as he locked the door, the tension leaving his shoulders at being home becoming visible.

“Welcome home, love,” I said, getting up from the couch.

“I told you not to wait up, (Y/N),” Francis whispered as he wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me tight.

“I’m not working tomorrow, so I thought I would wait for you,” I whispered back. I held his face in my hands, and he looked exhausted. “Do you want to go to bed? We could cuddle a little before sleep.”

“I would like that,” he smiled.

He followed me into the bedroom and started to get changed. I got in bed while waiting for him.

Soon, I felt his arms around my waist and his lips pressed against my neck. I turned off the lights and faced him. I put my palm on his cheek and caressed it with my thumb. I heard him sigh and move his head closer and I held it between my hands. His lips met mine in a soft and slow kiss.

“I missed you” Francis’s embrace tightened.

“I missed you too, my love” I smiled.

We kissed again, our lips moving slowly, just appreciating each other’s presence. His hand moved from my waist to my hip and down to my butt, giving it a light squeeze. I gasped slightly, and Francis took the opportunity to slide his tongue inside my mouth. What was just a lingering kiss turned into something more pressing. The warmth and softness of our lips, the wet touch of tongues, and the subtle taste of each other only added to my incoming arousal.

Unconsciously, I pushed my hips against his during the kiss, feeling his semi-hard dick. Francis moaned into the kiss. With his hand under my neck, he grabbed a fist full of my hair at the back of my head, squeezing tight and deepening the kiss. His other hand moved back to my waist, slipping under my shirt, caressing my skin, leaving goosebumps all over me.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, breaking the kiss and leaving both of us panting.

Francis rested his forehead on mine, and his hands continued rubbing the skin of my waist and neck.

“I thought you were tired,” I smiled.

“I am, but I want you,” he said hoarsely.

At the same time, his leg slipped between mine, pulling me closer by the waist. I could feel his need pressing against my intimate parts. I squeezed his leg between mine, rubbing my heat trying to ease my aching, but I knew he was exhausted, so I took the lead.

“What if I keep you warm?” I asked.

I spit a bit into my hand and reached for his pants, slipping under the waistband and into his underwear. I took his dick and started slowly moving, feeling him twitch. Francis groaned, and I felt his breath at the top of my head; he hugged me tighter and started to slowly, rocking his hips against my hand. I felt a chill down my spine; my core throbbed, and I felt it was getting wetter.

“Prep me up?” I mumbled.

Francis hummed, agreeing. His hand went from my waist to my heat, massaging my skin lightly along the way, and he pressed one finger to my entrance. I moaned quietly, continuing to pump him. He started to spread my juices around my lips and then pushed one finger inside. I moved my hips along with his finger, Francis kept his movements slow, and with each thrust, he touched a new spot inside me. Soon, he added a second finger, making me moan again and grind my hips in his hand.

“And I thought I was in need,” Francis chuckled.

“Francis…” I whimpered.

He pressed his thumb into my clit and began his scissors movements inside me, also curling his fingers to reach that sweet spot and stroke it, making me roll my eyes and breath heavily. I lifted my head, looking once again for his lips, and captured them in a hungrily open-mouth kiss, our tongues stroking each other rapidly and messy, with spit starting to drip.

I felt my walls pulsing around his fingers and that tickling sensation in my lower belly rushing me to grind faster. But I forced myself to stop. I pulled my hand away from his throbbing dick and grabbed his wrist, moving him away from me. I pushed Francis by the shoulder, laying his back on the mattress, and undressed myself. I lifted my leg and sat across Francis's lap, pulling his clothes down, freeing his dick, making him groan.

I kissed his tip and licked his entire length, from bottom to top, taking him to my mouth next. I took him until his tip reached the back of my throat and pumped the rest with my hand. I bobbed my head, sucking him and pressing my tongue against his flesh. Francis gave a husky groan and thrust his hips, hands tangling my hair.

When his dick was all wet, I raised myself and aligned my entrance with his tip. I slowly sink into him, feeling him twitch, relinquishing the feeling of his dick filling me up until he was all of him was inside me.

I set my hands on his stomach, getting used to the sensation of having him inside. Francis released a strangled breath, his hands resting on my thighs, caressing them with his thumbs.

When I was about to move, Francis took a strand of my hair and nestled it behind my ear, pulling me towards him by the back of my neck right after. He kissed me again, lips moving rapidly, only pulling away when we needed air.

The sudden movement had me squeezing his dick and he grinded his hips against me.

“Fucking tight,” Francis whispered.

I began rocking my hips, Francis matched my pace by grinding into me. Grunts and pants echoed in the bedroom; my hands were back on his stomach for balance, his hands pressed firmly on my waist to guide my movements and leave bruises. Each thrust felt heavenly, his dick sliding in and out, hitting the right spots every time, making me whimper and my legs shake.

The familiar tickling feeling in my lower belly came back, and my movements became erratic, faster, and sloppier, chasing that rush.

“I’m cuming,” I begged.

“Wait for me,” Francis urged.

He grabbed my leg and pushed my back onto the mattress. Settled between my legs, Francis resumed his movements, thrusting deep and fast. The change in position made me whine and squeeze him even tighter; it was bliss, the feeling of his weight on me, his grinding, and his dick rubbing every part inside me and hitting just the right spot.

“Francis, please” I begged again.

“Almost there” he grunted.

I tried my best to delay my incoming orgasm, focusing on Francis, on his short breaths, his muscles stiffening beneath my fingers, his raspy moans in my ear, just everything about him, taking my mind away from the pleasure he was giving me.

I tightened my legs around his body and my nails scratched his back, I was so close.

“Cum with me,” Francis pleaded.

I focused back on the sensation in my lower area. Francis sped up his pace, with chaotic and messy movements, as he began to shake. I felt the buildup of tension that made my back arch and my toes curl, like a clenching feeling. As soon as I thought that I couldn’t take it anymore, I sensed all that tension being released and pulsing throughout my body, an all-consuming release and euphoria. I moaned loudly against Francis's skin.

At the same time, Francis tensed up gave his final deep thrust and his dick throbbed inside me, releasing all of his seed, filling me up.

Francis kissed my lips tenderly, again, again and again, holding my face while supporting the weight of his body on one arm.

“I love you” he whispered between kisses.

“I love you too” I giggled, kissing him back.

He lay next to me, pulling me onto his chest. We stayed like that for a while, still panting and recovering.

“I’ll get you some water and a towel,” he said kissing my temple.

“No, it's okay I’ll get it” I pushed him down and got up. “I have to use the bathroom anyway. Do you need anything?”

“Just some water, please”.

I went to the bathroom, cleaned myself and then got a glass of water from the kitchen. When I came back to the bedroom, Francis’s breathing was deep and slow, suggesting that he was already asleep. I smiled and placed the water on his nightstand, I gave a small peck on his lips and laid down in bed, feeling my muscles relaxing after so much tension and pleasure.

The fact that our lives are regularly in danger because of the doppelgangers leaves everyone on edge, meaning that our time together safe at home is a blessing and a getaway from everything on the outside. Losing ourselves in each other is not only a reminder of being alive but also a reassurance that the other person we love so much is still by our side.

Thinking about all the things we do for each other, and while caressing softly Francis's face, I also fell asleep.

[lilhughesy]

Maple Lattes and Cheese Croissants. | Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

warnings! none!

summary: it’s hard to not fall in love with your friend when he treats you so well and does little things like paying for your coffee.

a/n: sorry super rushed and not my best work!

It came out of the blue, you and Quinn’s friendship. He was new to Vancouver and you’ve grown up on the island but had visited the popular city multiple times before. After high school, you decided to move to the mainland to experience real city living and he was drafted to the Vancouver Canucks.

He had ran straight into you on the sidewalk, causing a movie-like collision with your purse, phone, and keys going flying up in the air and you nearly falling — before his hands caught your waist. You had apologized multiple times, as did he. Before the two of you laughed it off and quickly became friends.

The two do you were miraculously the same age and still getting to know the city — so why not do it with a friend?

And within the past few years, the two of you had grown quite fond of each other. His schedule was packed with practices, training, and meetings while yours was busy with work. Nonetheless, the two of you allocated time for one another; whether it be trying a new restaurant for lunch, a new coffee shop, or a hidden bookstore for you two to pick up a new read. The two of you cherished your time spent with one another as it was like an escape from your realities.

Time together was comfortable and easygoing. You two seemed to understand each other like the back of your hands. He felt like home away from home. He was your shoulder to cry on, a person you could rant to when work got stressful, and he would always come pick you up after your night out with your girls. Quinn never failed to make you smile and he always knew how to bring up your mood — often bringing you takeout on nights you were too exhausted to cook, or buying you your favourite flowers because he knew how much you loved a pop of colour in your kitchen.

Some may think that you two were a couple, which you always had to deny. Although at times you wished that you were something more with the Canucks captain. You found it harder and harder to find a man to be with, as they never treated you as well as Quinn did. At some point you seriously wondered if it was even possible to find a man who would treat you better than Quinn.

“Hey! How was practice?” You greeted the hockey player as he approached you. He pulled you into an embrace the second he reached you,

“Tiring as always,” He chuckled, before the two of you started walking together, “How was your day?”

You shrugged, adjusting your jacket slightly, “I called my mom earlier about plans for Thanksgiving and just went to work… You know, the usual.”

“How’s your mom doing?”

“She’s good, she seems to be doing well!” You beamed as you guided him towards your destination, “So my coworker told me about this cafe, she says that the croissants and the cinnamon sugar donuts are really good.”

He nodded before opening the door for you, “After you.”

You smiled at the boy before entering the cafe. The warm smell of coffee and buttery-sweetness of the baked goods surrounded you like a blanket. There was quiet chatter amongst the other people sitting in the cafe alongside the hum of the coffee machines.

Quinn stuffed his hands into the pocket of his joggers, standing right behind you as the both of you took time to read the menu.

“What are you thinking of getting?” You asked him, turning your head slightly to look at his face.

He hummed, “Probably just a coffee and maybe a ham and cheese croissant, that sounds pretty good.”

“Yeah that does sound good,” You replied before approaching the cashier, “Hi, how are you?”

“Good afternoon! I’m good, thanks! What can I get for you?”

“That’s good to hear! I’ll get the maple latte and a cinnamon sugar donut please.”

She nodded while typing your order into the tablet, “For sure! Anything else?”

“No, that’ll-”

“Yeah a medium coffee and a ham cheese croissant too.” Quinn objected before tapping his card on the machine.

“They’ll be ready for you just over there by the window!”

“Quinn, you know you didn’t have to pay for my food.” You sighed, leaning a shoulder against the wall as the two of you waited for your order.

He chuckled, adjusting his Yankees cap on his head, “Yeah, but I wanted to.”

“Thank you,” You offered him a smile which he returned before nudging you with his shoulder lightly.

When your order was called, Quinn went to retrieve the bag of food and the cardboard drink holder and motioned towards the door. The two of you walked at a comfortable pace in the direction of his apartment, making easy conversations as always. Whether it be his ongoing hockey season or drama at your work, it always flowed with ease.

You two settled into his living room, Quinn at one end of the couch whilst you on the opposite side. You cradled your coffee near your chest as you giggled at whatever joke Quinn had cracked.

He looked peaceful, comfortably lounging into the corner. His navy hoodie hugged him perfectly in a slightly oversized fit which made Quinn seem so cozy. He had one arm relaxed on the back of the couch while his other held his own coffee. His legs were in their typical manspread position as his neck extended back as he laughed.

“Luke said that?” You repeated, eyes still slightly widened while you tucked your knees towards your chest.

He nodded, “Yeah, Mom had to correct him super fast after that one. He’s lucky he didn’t say that in front of any other woman.”

“That’s so funny,” You laughed before taking another sip, “I hope I can meet your family one day, they sound amazing.”

Quinn smiled softly, his eyes glancing between your cuddles up figure and his drink, “Yeah, I hope you can meet them too. ‘Though, you’d probably be the first woman I introduce them too.”

“Oh really?” You questioned, your hands getting slightly clammy, “You’ve never introduced your girlfriends to your family?”

He only shrugged, “Never had a serious relationship before. Just a few flings or hook ups here and there.”

You hesitated before saying your next words, cautious of what may come next, “Have you ever fallen in love before?”

Quinn caught your eye, and you could see his Adam’s apple bob and the air in his throat hitch slightly, “Yeah, every time I look at you.” He breathed out.

Your stomach flipped, “Really?”

“How can I not?” He chuckled as the rosy colour spread across his facial features, “You’re everything I could ever ask for in a woman. You’re smart, strong, kind, beautiful, and yo- you’re breathtaking.”

A smile crawled up onto your face as you watched Quinn rub his jaw with his free hand. You placed your drink on his coffee table before moving closer to sit right next to him. Your legs curled underneath you as your hand played with the sleeve of his hoodie, “I think I fall in love with you more every time I see you too.”

His eyes softened more at your words, as he put down his own drink — not looking away from you. One of Quinn’s hands cupped your shoulder gently, “Yeah?”

You nodded, “Yeah.”

His focus bounced between your eyes and your glossy lips, “Can I kiss you then?”

Your hands moved to cup his face as you brought him closer to yours. Your lips melted with his as he eagerly kissed you back. His hands pulling your body to be pressed against his. Quinn’s strong arms wrapped around your waist as your hands danced in his soft hair.

You pulled away slightly, your foreheads touching, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you, Quinn Hughes.”

“God, you’re going to be the death of me.” He chuckled before kissing you again, “Now that I’ve kissed you, I don’t know if I ever want to stop.”

You beamed at his words, “Good. I feel the exact same way.”

His hands softly ran up and down your sides, “Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Of course, Q.”

Quinn grinned before pressing a kiss to your neck. You giggled as the feeling of his hair tickling your skin and you hugged him close. You didn’t have to worry about finding someone who would treat you better than Quinn, because he was finally yours. Your chest swelled with love and adoration for the man as he adjusted your bodies to be cuddled up in the couch, where the two of you would spend the rest of the afternoon together. The light patter of the Vancouver rain on the window and whatever movie the two of you chose to watch playing on his TV. You were so content to be wrapped up in his arms, even though the maple latte and cheese croissant were forgotten on the table.

[prettygiri222]

okay but imagine eren seen a video of his baby momma at the club singin sexy redd’s “ FUCK MY BABYDADDY ” 😭😭 he just brings their son or daughter to reader’s mom and goes back to reader’s house and tears them TF upppp.

i can just hear him saying “ fuck yo baby who?? oh aight. ”

I had to add rapper!Eren to this cause it's something I always wanted to write😋

Eren x Black Fem Reader, PLOT + SMUT

rapper Eren Yeager's longtime girlfriend of six years broke up with him after having his first child, Duke Yeager. Eren shared a post on instagram confirming their breakup but stated that the both of them remain in Duke’s life as co-parents. the reason why was unreleased so fans speculated that Eren must’ve cheated because why else would you willingly break up with the famous rapper. his management released a statement saying it was due to conflicting schedules but it was seen as damage control so no one believed it.

during the six years of the relationship, his management managed to keep your face out of the media. but with the way Eren was constantly posting snippets of you, fans soon discovered who you were after matching physical features, traits and location that were found on his story with the ones present on your small instagram.

you two quickly became the it couple, how the girl from nowhere pulled a famous rapper gave fans hope because they saw them reflected in you. a woman who didn’t have to undergo multiple surgeries to pull the industry's finest. but after the breakup, that image fell.

his management did their best to keep things under wraps to keep the media from tormenting you but it didn’t work. when you posted a picture of yourself postpartum your dms filled with hateful comments wondering why Eren had gotten with you in the first place. you knew it was just jealous fangirls but it still got to you, especially since you weren’t all that confident in your new body and still recovering from your pregnancy. your accounts went silent shortly after.

although the breakup was mutual, the reason why was deeper than scheduling conflicts. you needed someone who was able to be there physically, emotionally and mentally. it was hard for Eren to provide that due to his career path, always travelling the world with a packed schedule. you guys did your best to make it work but after Duke came into the world you just couldn’t handle it anymore. 

Eren was a decent baby daddy and you guys co-parented well. you had full custody of him but when Eren was in town and would have time off you would send Duke over to him. Duke loved his daddy, always wanting to watch his concerts and interviews on the TV when he wasn’t there or free to facetime. Eren always made sure to send double what was asked for in child support to make sure you took care of yourself as well as his son.

that’s why when you reposted your friend’s story of you in the club all hell broke loose. people took it as a diss to your baby daddy, which it was, but not in the way they thought.

earlier that week you had dropped Duke off at Eren’s mansion. he had just flown back in from his world tour and finally had a few weeks off. despite being exhausted he called you up and asked if you could bring Duke over, wanting to spend as much time with his son as possible during his break. he sent over an uber black to pick the two of you up.

when Eren met you two at the door, Duke jumped into his arms smiling and giggling. it’s been a while since he’s seen his daddy in person. the sight made you awe. Eren turned to you and asked if you wanted to stay over so he could spend time with the two most important people in his life but sadly you declined. you didn’t want to interrupt their father and son bonding time.

Duke was almost a clone of Eren, he had his sharp green eyes, german nose and face shape. the only hints of you in him were his full lips, darker skin and coils. Duke was your little bundle of joy but he could be a handful at times. during the few times those two got to spend together Eren spoiled him rotten, whatever he wanted he got and it showed. whenever you told him no he would throw a tantrum saying how he wanted his daddy. you knew you were a good mother but hearing him say that when you were the one who took care of him every day hurt.

---

it was a friday night and Eren was at his crib chilling with Duke. he had his phone on do now disturb so his time with his family wouldn’t be interrupted. it was a shame you weren’t here to spend time with them. after having pizza, soda and ice cream for dinner the boys passed out on the couch after staying up past midnight watching movies. 

his peace was soon interrupted by the constant buzz of his phone. it roused him from his sleep but Duke slept through it. after the third ring, he finally answered the phone. he was pissed that his manager was calling him knowing it was his time off but he figured it must be important for them to use emergency bypass to call.

“what’s going on?” his voice gruff from his slumber and irritation. he turned on his phone to see it flooded with notifications from instagram, snapchat, tiktok, twitter, messages, missed calls from his friends and one from his mom and his heart dropped to his stomach. he hadn't dropped anything new recently so he knew whatever was happening had to be bad.

“well… it’s about your baby mama… she uh…” his manager was at a loss for words. he didn't know the words to describe the situation to make it not seem as bad as the media was already making it out to be. he knew Eren would be pissed when he found out what happened and they didn't want to be on the end of it. 

Eren was extremely protective of his family and friends. when he saw the hate you were receiving after you posted a picture of yourself postpartum he took to twitter immediately. he did not play when it came to you, together or not together. you were the mother of his child and you needed your respect. so he was wondering why you were playing in his face like this.

“well what is it?” he snapped, already losing his patience. “is she ok? is she hurt?” he shot upright from his resting position on the couch. he opened up the group chat between him, Armin, Connie, Onyankopon and Jean first. all that was sent was a blurry video followed by a bunch of skull and grave emojis.

he opened the video and immediately recognized the faces of a few of the girls in it as a few of your friends, Sasha, Mikasa and Historia at a club. Sasha, Connie’s model girlfriend was the one to record them singing along to a sexyy red song. he wondered what the video had to do with him until it panned to you. you stood out with your brightly dyed red hair styled in a what he recognized as a wash-and-go.

“fuck my baby daddy! fuck my baby daddy! fuck my baby daddy!” you were shouting the lyrics a little bit too passionately. you had your middle fingers stuck up to the camera showing off your glittery red acrylic nails. you were clearly wasted, drunk off of whatever drinks Sasha managed to shove down your throat.

“yes bitch!” your friends shouted as you turned around to shake your ass sticking out your tongue. you were wearing a ripped mesh dress. one of your friends reached out to pull down the back of your dress to prevent your ass from showing but the dress was already leaving very little to the imagination. the pregnancy did your body good, you were a bit on the skinny side before but now your hips had filled out, your ass and boobs swole and your skin finally cleared up. you were glowing.

“I’m a fine ass bitch, I ain’t in the in the house sad!” you were feeling yourself. it felt nice to get out of the house and away from Duke no matter how much you loved him. having to take care of a baby by yourself was tiring, no matter how much Eren supported you from afar you needed him there with you.

your friends were hyping you up and your mind grew hazy from both the alcohol and adrenaline. you were far too gone to realize what you said when you yelled “fuck Eren!” instead of the actual lyrics. the camera quickly panned to the floor before the video stopped.

Eren had to replay the video countless times to process what he had seen and heard. but he couldn’t believe it was you. never in the eight years he’s known you have you ever picked up the phone to send a dig at him through social media. no matter how tough the going got, it’s what he respected about you. you always wanted to talk problems through and try to make it work. Eren clenched his fist looking at you now.

Eren knows how baby mamas like you are seen and treated in the industry. he’s seen how they're constantly bashed and embarrassed by the fathers of their children and the media. Eren never wanted that for you, he wanted to give you a ring before he gave you a baby but accidents happen and here you both were. instead of calling him or stopping by to talk you wanted to show out for the fans and diss him. it was stupid of you, he knew you were better than this.

“so it’s “fuck Eren” is that right,” Eren laughed to himself throwing his head back on the couch. sure he couldn’t be there for you and Duke all the time like he wanted but at least he tried. he was a very busy man. but he did what he had to to make sure his mother, Duke and you could have a nice and cozy life. where Duke didn’t have to worry about if he was going to eat dinner that night. “bet.”

“sorry little man but I have to go get your mommy. you’re going to go to stay with your grandma tonight, ok?” he cooed to Duke, waking him up. Duke slowly woke up and was trying to rub the sleep out of his eye. Eren loved his son very much he was the reason he kept this stressful life up. 

he enjoyed making music and performing but not during the days when he slept in the studio trying to find the perfect lyrics and beat or days where he hardly slept because he had to stay on his feet. it was a fast life and if he couldn’t keep up it would all come crashing down. and for you to make a dig at that knowing how he felt was fucked.

“Eren Yeager!” his manager shouted through the phone overhearing the whole thing. he needed Eren to keep a calm head and not do anything rash tonight. he didn’t need him sparking more outrage in the media or doing something that could potentially ruin the relationship you two had. “what are you going to do?”

“what else, I���m going to go fuck my baby mama,” before his manager could get another word out he hung up the phone. 

“daddy said a bad word!”

“...don’t tell your mom and I’ll bring you to the studio with me.”

---

you wobbled into your apartment with a sheepish grin. it felt like a huge weight was lifted off your shoulder tonight. it’s been a while since you went to the club and got so drunk that the world became a blur. you were slowly regaining memories of what happened that night and you couldn’t help but cringe knowing you would regret some of them in the morning. your phone died on your way home after you reposted Sasha’s story so you were oblivious to the buzz you had created.

when you went to unlock your door you found out that it was already open. you raised your brow but you brushed it off thinking you must’ve forgotten to lock it in your rush to leave the house. you knew the security for your building was tight, it was the main thing you were looking for when you were buying your apartment. it was a necessity since Duke was the son of a successful rapper. 

when you and Eren had split you bought yourself a nice little two-bedroom apartment deep in the city. Eren offered to pay for it but you immediately declined, you didn’t want anything else of yours to get attached to him. during your relationship you saved up a lot of money since Eren had always offered to buy you whatever you wanted and spoiled you rotten just like he was doing with Duke. he fueled your shopping addiction only wanting his girlfriend to have the best of the best.

you had a little side hustle as an occasional hairstylist and nail artist for your friends and family with the occasional new client. Eren told you time and time again you didn’t need to work and that he would take care of everything. but you liked having your own source of income it made you feel independent plus you enjoyed your job.

being able to close on your dream apartment was a dream come true and it left you feeling satisfied. you loved how everything was within walking distance, there was a daycare down the street along with an elementary school for when Duke got older. there was a grocery store right around the corner with a few outlets and public transit ran just outside the building, it was perfect for a single mother like you. 

“thought we were doing good with this co-parenting shit mama?” the second you opened the door you were greeted by a voice you knew better than your own. goosebumps covered your arms, ‘why is he here’ you thought.

“Eren?” you called out into the dark apartment. you felt the wall closest to the door for the switch and turned the light on. and there he was, Eren, your famous baby daddy. he turned his head to look at you from where he was seated on the couch. his eyes were extremely low, watching your every move. “are you ok? where's Duke?”

“with your mom,” Eren was having such a pleasant high, he felt so relaxed and calm in the dark room. he didn’t have the TV on and was just staring at the black screen. but the second the room lit up and you walked through the door with that tiny see-through dress on it dispersed. he narrowed his eyes down at you and you could tell you had just blown his high. his anger simmering underneath his calm demeanour. 

“how’d you even get in?” you never gave Eren the key to your apartment. having already been split and you always dropped Duke off at his place there was no reason for him to have one.

“front desk gave me a key after I flashed a couple of stacks,” he replied nonchalantly, like it wasn’t a crime on both parts. you rolled your eyes, this was how Eren fixed all his problems, with money. you get that when he was growing up it was something he didn’t have but now that he had it was like all he knew how to do was throw it at people to make his problems disappear.

“well if Duke isn’t here then there’s no reason for you to be,” you don’t know what you did to warrant this visit but you didn’t want to be in his presence any longer. you liked to keep your contact with Eren as minimal as possible. plus you didn’t have the energy to deal with him tonight, you were tired. hoping he would get the hint it was time to leave you walked away and headed towards your bedroom, “please see yourself out. we can talk another day.”

“nah, 'cause it’s “fuck Eren” right?” he got up from the couch and followed you down the hall and into your room. the wooden floor creaking under his weight. you didn’t have to turn around to know he was towering over you, you could feel him breathing down your neck. you tried to move away from him but he gripped your waist with a firm grip underneath and pulled you against him. “you must’ve gone crazy going so long with my dick huh? that must be it, acting like you lost your damn mind.”

“Eren!” you pulled away to look back at him in shock. “what are you even talking about?”

“don’t play dumb with me mama, your ass is all over the shade room talking about “fuck my baby daddy” ” he took his phone out of his pocket to show you their newest post. it was a screenshot of a video but it was clearly you, it was the same outfit and hairstyle you had on right now. you swiped the image on his phone in disbelief and the video played, “fuck Eren! fuck my baby daddy! fuck my baby daddy!”

“oh my gosh! Eren, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, I was drunk and got carried away,” you looked up at him from the phone. you could tell he was pissed, his eyes darkened after hearing what you said in the video for the hundredth time. you were horrified, you didn’t mean to air out your personal problems and make Eren seem like a bad father. you knew how the public blew things out of proportion.

“they say drunk words are sober thoughts,” Eren stated, shrugging his shoulders. “I know Duke be stressing you out ma, let me fix it,” he stared down at you with a little smirk. he licked his lips, obviously checking you out. it's been a while since he's seen your body exposed, you always show up to drop Duke off in oversized sweaters and shirts. just looking at you like this made his dick hard, “plus you owe me an apology.”

that’s how you found yourself face down ass up in your bedroom with the man you’d never thought would step foot in your new apartment. Eren was behind you standing at the edge of the bed, his black and grey nike tech sweater was thrown somewhere in your room leaving him in a white wife beater and his golden cuban link chain. his grey sweats were down so that just his dick was out.

“mm fuck Eren! please,” you cried out. no matter how deeply you arched or angled your hips you couldn’t get him to reach where you needed him the most. he knew that but he loved watching you struggle and the way your brown cheeks jiggled after coming into contact with his pelvis. you were a sight to see, one that he deeply missed.

“you can do better than that mama,” he raised his pierced brow watching you. Eren stood completely still behind you, you had your face buried in the sheets as you attempted to throw it back on him. you were still dressed in your mesh dress but he ripped your thong off. “I saw you in that video. you were shaking that shit so c’mon, fuck me back ma.”

your makeup was staining your sheets but you could care less right now. the feeling of Eren stretching out your practically virginal walls was dumbfounding. he didn’t bother to stretch you out believing that your body was already moulded to his shape. but it’s been about two years since you last had sex. your tight walls were struggling to accommodate his humongous size.

“ ’m trying,” the lack of stimulation on your sweet spots had you in tears. the stretch was pleasurable but it wasn’t enough, paired with the shallow thrusts. you so desperately craved more so you reached in between your legs to play with your clit. Eren groaned at the sight of you touching yourself, not to mention you began to clench around him. 

“damn ma, now that’s what I’m talking about,” Eren gave your ass a harsh slap. you let out a little whine as you lost your rhythm because of it. but you soon found it again. your wetness was soaking his dick and you were basically twerking on his dick. Eren loved every second of it. 

he took one of your ass cheeks and pulled it to the side with his tattooed hand, he watched himself go in and out of your brown folds. feeling the unsteady approach of his orgasm watching as you struggled to fuck yourself on him he decided to finally grant you mercy. he languidly began to thrust into you. “go ahead and nut on this dick mama.”

 “o-okay” you stuttered out. you struggled to concentrate on stimulating your sensitive clit while bouncing back to meet Eren’s lazy thrusts. your fingers were covered in your own wetness while you rubbed little circles on your bud. each loop paired with the tip of his dick pressing against that spongy spot inside you brought you ever closer to your climax. “ ‘m so close!”

“let it out for me baby,” the pace became erratic, you guys’ release at its peak. sometimes his dick collided straight into your soft spot and sometimes it completely missed. but the feeling of him pummeling in and out of you had you convulsing around his dick. “keep squeezing around me like that and I'll put another baby in you, fuck.”

you let out broken whines as you struggled to continuously stimulate your bud. you were soaking wet that your fingers slipped around. “‘ren! ren!” you chanted, reaching out toward him with your slick-covered hand. Eren grabbed it and put it in his mouth. groaning deeply as he licked and sucked on your coated digits.

“don’t worry mama, I got you. let it out for me,” Eren leaned over your arched form and whispered in your ear. his husky sending shivers down your spine as he talked you through it. you listened to him feeling the wave of pleasure overwhelm you, the sensation in your stomach bursting.

“f-fuck, fuck!”

“shit,” when he felt himself about to burst he pulled out of your pussy's compelling grasp. he watched the lewd scene in front of him and used it to jerk off. he groaned out stroking his soaking dick. your pussy hole remained gaping after he pulled out and your liquids were spilling on your sheets. after a few strokes, he released all over your back onto your mesh dress staining it.

you plopped down onto your empty bed exhausted. the room filled with the sound of laboured breathing as you guys tried to catch your breath. the sound of Eren shuffling around could be heard soon after. your heart ached at the thought of him leaving you so soon but you closed your eyes, ‘it’s for the better’ you thought. you wanted a few moments of rest before you went to wash up.

but Eren wasn’t finished yet, he was shedding the remaining articles of his clothing leaving him naked. your eyes opened feeling the bed dip under the extra weight. before you could protest, Eren had already climbed on top of you, grabbing your legs and having them pushed over your head, “we’re not finished yet.”

this time Eren took the lead, he had ripped off your dress leaving you completely naked and exposed to his eyes. he had you folded over like a pretzel leaving you open for him. your legs were bent so far over your head you could see the top of your pussy and watch as Eren thrusted in and out of your overstimulated hole from above. the pleasure made you want to slither away but Eren’s strong hold kept you still.

“E-eren!” you were losing your mind from the stimulation. “too much! it’s too much!” you cried out. you reached out to push against his rock-hard abdomen. you didn’t want him to stop, not when you were so close to your second orgasm of the night but it was too much. he was being so rough with you. you didn’t think you had it in you after motherhood to be manhandled like this.

“nah, you can take it. you’re a big girl now, dissing me at the club with your friends. be glad I’m even fucking you since I’m such a “bad baby daddy.” Eren mocked you from above. he didn’t even flinch as you tried to push him away. he smiled down at you watching how easily you got fucked out. moans were no longer coming out your mouth, more like strangled sobs and whines that were being forced out after each deep thrust of his. the head of his dick battering your insides and abusing your soft spot left you tremoring underneath him.

“imsorryimsorry,” you babbled out. your mascara and eyeliner were running down your cheeks and your lipstick was smothered but you couldn’t look any prettier to Eren. he enjoyed watching as your tits bounce around. he brought his forest green eyes back up to you watching as you bit your quivering lip.

“how’d that song go again?” Eren sarcastically asked. with the number of times he replayed that video he had the lyrics, beat and rhythm all memorized. “something like this right?” pap! pap! pap! Eren changed the rhythm of his thrusts, the sound of his balls clapping against your ass and the squelching sounds of your pussy mimicked the bow bow bow of the song. he angled each thrust to deliver a particularly harsh hit to your g-spot.

without warning an intense feeling of pleasure erupted in your stomach. “imcuming!” you cried out. you could feel a liquid flow out from your pussy, completely drenching Eren’s dick. he quickly pulled out to watch you squirt, a sight he immensely missed. the translucent liquid gushed out of your hole soaking the sheets as well.

“you said fuck your baby who?” Eren smiled down at your fucked out face. you couldn’t even answer him with the overwhelming pleasure rendering all of your senses useless. your head was thrown back and your face furrowed, coming down from the high of your intense orgasm. “oh aight.”

I think I got a bit carried away🤭

[httpsdana]

Hey love!

I was wondering if you could write something for Max Verstappen with a super soft, quiet little girlfriend? She’s a chunky little thing, all round and cute, with blonde hair, and she’s just very… pink. Everything about her is soft and feminine—her clothes, her nails, even the way she speaks. She’s also a little dumb (in the most adorable way possible), always getting confused about things, and Max just finds it endearing. Maybe some fluff where he’s super protective over her because people underestimate her a lot? Thank you so much!

Softer than Sakura~Max Verstappen

・❥・prompt list

・❥・motorsports masterlist

・❥・who I write for

・❥・a/n: this HAS to be my fav fic EVER. I love max sm yall don't understand. pls don't let it flop 🙏🏻🙏🏻

She was the total opposite of Max. Opposites attract, they say. Max, the serious, sarcastic Formula One champion, dating her; the short, blonde girl whose whole life was pink and ribbons.

But Max found everything about her so endearing.

The way she got confused over the smallest things, the random questions she asked out of nowhere, and mostly, the way she managed to be the most adorable person when he asked her to go to her first Grand Prix with him: to Japan.

“Well, everything is pink, and it’s all flowers and stuff there. I think you'll like it,” he said softly, his smile unwavering when she jumped up and down before climbing on him.

“Oh my god, yes! I have the perfect outfit for race day. Should I do my nails too? When are we going? Do I have time to pack?” she rambled, unable to hide her excitement, and also nervousness.

Max chuckled, putting his finger on her lips to stop her from talking.

“Don’t worry, schatje. I already booked your nail appointment. We’re leaving Tuesday morning, so you have plenty of time to pack,” he mumbled before brushing his lips over hers.

Max took his headphones off as his engineer finished telling him the new updates on the car. His eyes scanned the garage slowly until they found her.

She stood by the corner, carefully reading the schedule on the paper that was on the wall. The pink ribbon sat perfectly in her blonde hair, while her hands clutched her small bag tightly.

He smiled softly before quietly making his way to her. He sneaked his hands around her waist gently, which made her flinch for a second before relaxing in his arms.

“Maxie,” she mumbled, her eyes still fixed on the paper, her head tilting in confusion.

“Hey, baby,” his fingers brushed against her pink dress as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“I’m confused,” she stated, turning to look up at him. “The schedule says you have media duty from ten till twelve. It’s eleven-thirty now. Are you breaking the rules?” she gasped softly, her voice lowering as if afraid someone might hear her.

Max chuckled, his heart melting at the pure confusion in her expression.

“No, darling. I finished early and had some stuff with the engineers,” he said, making her lips part as realization dawned on her.

“Let’s get you seated in the garage before qualifying,” he gently tugged her hand as he took her to the back of the garage where families and guests usually sat. He helped her up on the stool before handing her one of the big blue headphones.

“For me?” she asked, confused, making him hum.

“It can get loud, so you’ll need it,” he placed it on her neck before brushing her hair away from her face to admire her soft makeup that she always did—the one he always adored.

“But it doesn’t match my outfit,” she frowned, making him laugh with a shake of his head.

“Sweetheart, the sounds are pretty loud. You need it,” he insisted, making her frown deepen even more. He smiled before leaning down to kiss her pout away.

As soon as his lips touched hers, she quickly gasped and pulled away.

“Someone could see us,” she whispered, making him pout.

“Just one?” he asked, leaning in again. He kissed her softly, and she couldn't help but kiss him back.

When he pulled back, he hummed in satisfaction. She opened her eyes and giggled at the sight of him.

“What?” he asked, an amused smile on his lips.

“You’ve got some lip gloss on your lips,” she murmured, reaching over to wipe it off with her thumb.

“Do I look pretty?” he teased while she hummed.

“You always look pretty,” she whispered shyly, making him smile.

“Only because I have you by my side.”

“Hey, where's my girlfriend?” Max asked one of the mechanics, who he saw a while ago talking to her.

“They told her to go to your driver's room after quali. She was asking way too many questions,” he chuckled, expecting Max to laugh with him, except he didn’t. Max scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Yeah? So what? This is her first race and she's still new to everything here,” he said defensively, eyes narrowing as the mechanic started squirming nervously under his intense gaze.

“I-I didn’t mean-” Max interrupted by rolling his eyes.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, already walking away to his room.

He opened the door gently, peeking his head into the room slowly. He saw her sitting there, his plushie, which she had bought him, tucked under her chin while she scrolled through her phone silently.

“Hey baby,” he said softly, afraid to scare her away.

“Hi Maxie,” she mumbled, her voice a bit down and softer than usual, the usual bubbly and excited tone not evident.

His face twisted in anger, knowing that she was upset by something someone had told her.

“What did they say?” he asked calmly, but his fists clenched by his sides as he walked closer to her.

“Mhm, who?” she avoided looking into his eyes, still scrolling on her phone.

Max took the phone gently out of her hand to have her look at him. Her eyes were dull, the usual light in them faded out.

“What did they say?” he asked again, this time more gently.

“Nothing… they just said that I should come here because they can’t stand someone asking so many stupid questions,” she shrugged, but her teary eyes showed how much she was affected.

“Oh darling,” he murmured, pulling her into a hug as he sat next to her. He tucked her head under his chin, securing it by holding the back of her head. His other hand soothed her back, mumbling sweet nothings into her ear to help her calm down.

After a while, her body relaxed more and she let out a sigh into his neck.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her arms tightening around his torso.

“Don’t be, schatje. They’re assholes who don’t deserve to listen to anything you say. If you have anything to ask, I’ll gladly answer you, even if it was the silliest question,” he said, pulling her head back to look at her.

“I love you,” he held her gaze, his fingers threading through her blonde strands as he spoke.

“I love you more, Maxie,” she said, her smile finally finding its way back to her face.

He held her more in his arms, watching some TikToks with her on her phone, ignoring the fact that he had already skipped two interviews.

She pulled away then, making him look at her, confused.

“So... what does DRS mean?” she asked sheepishly, making him chuckle.

“I’ll tell you everything. Just let me hold you some more, sweetheart.”

my taglist: @barcapix @paucubarsisimp @spidybaby @mxryxmfooty @n0vazsq @joaosnovia @ilovebarcaaaa @f1lover55 @jajajhaahaha @universefcb @mariejuli (lmk if you want to be added!!)

[simplygojo]

Cheater! ⸺ Suguru Geto

author's note ⸺ Wrote a cheating fic!! WHOOPS! lmk your thoughts on this!! I hope you all enjoy cheating on your deadbeat husband with your daughters sexy ass teacher <3 pairing ⸺ teacher!Suguru Geto x parent!reader word count ⸺ 4k content warnings ⸺ 18+ only - mdni!, adultery!, grey morals, reader uses female pronouns, reader has a vagina, fingering, p in v intercourse, nipple play, rough grip?idk, not edited teaser ⸺ "You’re a married woman, after all. You’re loyal, and I respect that. But..." He pauses, his lips curling into a knowing smile, the hint of something far more dangerous in his eyes. "It would be wrong of me to let you leave here tonight without telling you... that you deserve more than this. You deserve to feel wanted, to feel desired." Something inside you snaps.

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Your husband wasn’t always like this.

Or maybe he was, and you just didn’t notice it at first.

There was a time when you believed in the love you shared—the way he used to pull you close without needing a reason, the way he promised that no matter what, it would always be both of you against the world. And for a while, it felt real. Then life happened. Then the baby came.

And slowly, little by little, you started doing everything alone.

At first, it was small things. He worked late, so you handled bedtime. He forgot to grab the groceries, so you took care of it. He stayed home when your child had a fever, but somehow, you were the one up all night, holding them while they cried.

Then, the little things became everything.

You started managing schedules, meals, school functions, doctor’s appointments, PTA meetings—every single thing that kept your child’s world turning.

And your husband? He was there, technically. He existed in the house, he took up space in the bed, but he was more like an afterthought in your life than a partner.

You’d hear other moms talk about how they split responsibilities with their husbands—how he got up for night feedings, how he packed lunches in the morning, how they took turns being the “fun parent” so the other could have a break.

You stopped talking in those conversations.

Because what would you even say?

That your husband doesn’t even know your child’s teacher’s name? That you’ve gone to every parent-teacher night alone for the past three years? That sometimes, when you wake up next to him, you feel more alone than if the bed was empty?

You tried to fix it. You really did. You asked him to come to school events—he always had an excuse. You asked him to help with homework—he’d forget. You asked him if he was happy—he shrugged.

And eventually, you just stopped asking.

Instead, you did what you always did: you handled it.

You got up every morning and made breakfast. You checked backpacks, signed permission slips, scheduled playdates. You listened when your 6 year old came home talking about her day. You made sure they felt loved, seen, safe. You gave them everything you never had.

And you told yourself, this was enough.

You told yourself you didn’t need to feel wanted.

You told yourself you didn’t need someone to look at you the way that he used to.

You told yourself you didn’t need more than this—but you knew that none of that was true. 

The clock ticks past 9 PM. The school halls are eerily quiet now, save for the soft hum of the overhead lights, casting long shadows along the walls. It’s well past the usual time for parent-teacher conferences, and once again, you’re the last parent left.

The usual scenario.

You check your phone for the fifth time—no texts, no calls. Your husband’s absence from this school event doesn’t surprise you anymore, but it still stings in ways you can’t shake. There’s a lingering resentment there, buried beneath the routine, hidden in the cracks of your patience.

You tap your foot against the tiled floor, feeling the exhaustion deep in your bones. It’s been a long day of running from work to school pick-up, to soccer practice, to dinner, to bedtime—only for your husband to still be nowhere to be found. 

He’s present physically, but emotionally? Mentally? Nowhere.

You’ve long since stopped asking him to show up at these meetings, to participate in the day-to-day, to even make an effort. You’ve grown used to doing it all, but some nights, like tonight, the weight of it feels like too much. 

The door to the classroom finally opens.

And there he is. Suguru Geto.

His eyes soften when he sees you standing alone in the hallway. It’s nearly 9:30 now, and he has that gentle look on his face, the one he always wears when he’s speaking with you. There’s a warmth there, but tonight, you can’t help but feel like he’s been watching you for longer than you realize.

"You’re the last one," Suguru says, his voice smooth and calm, as though he’s already made peace with the late hour. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

You offer a tired smile, trying to mask the fatigue that’s clearly weighing on you. "It’s no problem," you say. "I’m just used to it."

He steps aside to let you into the classroom.

The soft glow of the desk lamps and the smell of chalk and paper fill the air as you sit down, the worn-out chair creaking slightly under your weight. Suguru takes his usual spot at the desk, but instead of diving into the paperwork, he looks at you with a level of attention that makes you feel like the only person in the room.

“Everything going okay?” He asks, his tone casual but with an undercurrent of concern. You think he’s been asking you that for weeks now, and for weeks, you’ve given the same nonchalant answer.

“Yeah, just the usual,” you reply, keeping your gaze steady on the desk in front of you. “Busy. You know how it is.”

Suguru nods, but his eyes don’t leave you. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you that makes you feel exposed, like he sees more than just the tired mom who’s barely holding it together. He watches you as if he’s picking up on the subtle cracks in your composure, the ones you’ve been trying to hide for so long.

“I’ve noticed,” Suguru says, his voice steady, yet his eyes seem to soften with understanding. “You’re here for every parent meeting. I don’t think I’ve ever seen your husband at one.”

You stiffen slightly, but not enough to make it obvious. Of course, Suguru would notice. He’s always been observant, always so aware of the details. He’s never commented on it before, but the fact that he does now makes something inside you ache.

Your gaze flickers to the side, focusing on anything but him.

“Well,” you start, your voice quieter than usual, “he’s always… busy with work.”

Suguru’s gaze doesn’t falter. “I get it,” he says, his voice even, but there’s a knowing look in his eyes. "Work can be demanding."

You feel a flush of embarrassment creep up your neck, and you try to laugh it off. “Yeah, it’s just... me, really. I handle everything at home, too.”

There’s a long pause as Suguru silently assesses you. His eyes narrow slightly, not in judgment, but in a way that makes you feel seen. Really seen.

“You’ve been doing it all alone for a while, haven’t you?” He asks it softly, like a statement more than a question.

The words hit you harder than you expected. You swallow, the pressure in your chest growing heavier. It’s not like you haven’t noticed it yourself. You’ve been doing this on your own for a while now—balancing everything, carrying the weight of your family’s responsibilities while your husband remains detached. But hearing Suguru say it, hearing him acknowledge it, makes you feel more vulnerable than you care to admit.

You nod slowly, avoiding his gaze as your throat tightens.

"Doesn’t seem fair, does it?" Suguru continues, his voice still calm, but his eyes darken ever so slightly, an intensity that wasn’t there before.

You don’t know how to respond. All you can do is sit there, feeling the weight of his words hang in the air between you.

“Sometimes, people don’t realize what it means to be present,” Suguru murmurs, his tone laced with something more than just professional concern.

And in that moment, you realize just how much you crave someone to acknowledge the effort you’ve been putting in—to see you as more than just a mother, more than just someone who’s keeping everything together by sheer force of will.

The silence stretches between you two, but Suguru doesn’t look away. It’s almost as if he’s waiting for you to say something.

And for the first time in a long time, you feel like you’re on the verge of saying something that you definitely shouldn’t.

The weight of Suguru's gaze is palpable, drawing you in like a magnetic force. For the first time, you're not looking for validation from the outside world, from your husband or anyone else. You’re looking at him, and his presence seems to fill the entire room, suffocating yet somehow liberating.

"Sometimes, I wonder if it’s worth it," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "I mean, all of it. The constant doing, the giving... but it’s never enough. It feels like I’m just... waiting. For someone to notice. For someone to... care."

Suguru’s expression shifts, and he leans in just slightly, as though he’s pulled by some invisible thread. There’s something in his eyes that’s far from the calm teacher you’ve known. It’s deeper, darker—filled with a quiet understanding that makes the air between you both thick with unspoken emotions.

"You deserve more than that," he murmurs, his voice low, almost intimate. “You deserve someone who sees you. Not just the mother, not just the wife. But you.”

You take a shallow breath, feeling the rush of emotions swirl inside you. 

You’ve heard those words before, but from him, they hit differently. The way he’s looking at you, the way his words seem to reach right inside you, it’s too much to ignore.

Without thinking, your gaze flickers down to his lips, then back up to his eyes. And you see it then—the shift. The barely perceptible tension in his jaw, the way his shoulders tense as if he’s fighting some invisible current pulling him toward you.

You stand abruptly, the sudden movement shaking you from the haze of desire that had slowly clouded your mind. Your pulse races in your ears, and you feel a rush of heat flood your face, the intensity of the moment unsettling you.

You attempt to gather yourself, your mind a chaotic storm of conflicting emotions. 

“Is there... anything my daughter needs to work on—uh, outside of school?” You ask, your voice lacking the usual certainty, the question tumbling out awkwardly as if to distract yourself from what’s happening between you.

Suguru stands slowly from his chair, the chair legs scraping against the floor as he glides around the desk with measured steps, his gaze never leaving you. Every movement of his feels deliberate, calculated, and yet somehow fluid, like he’s in complete control of the space around you.

He comes to stand directly in front of you, just close enough that his presence fills the air, thick and charged with an undeniable tension. 

You can’t help but notice the way his body moves, the subtle power in the way he stands, shoulders broad, chest rising and falling in time with his deep, steady breaths.

“Your daughter?” Suguru repeats, the corners of his lips curling up slightly as he leans in just enough for you to feel the heat of his breath against your skin. “You’re not really thinking about her right now, are you?”

You want to pull away, to say something, anything that could snap you out of this, but his presence is overwhelming, and your body betrays you with every passing second.

"I..." you try to say something, anything to pull yourself together, but the words falter in your throat. The part of you that knows better, the part of you that remembers you’re married and committed to someone else, is struggling to assert itself. 

But the other part of you, the one that’s been ignored for so long, is screaming to be heard, to finally feel seen, to be touched like how he could touch you, to have someone care.

Suguru watches you carefully, sensing the internal conflict as his fingers twitch at his sides. He takes a small step closer, his hand brushing against your arm just lightly enough to send a ripple of heat through your skin.

"I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do," he says softly, his voice almost a caress. 

You notice the way his body towers over yours, his broad chest just inches from yours, making you feel small in comparison. The warmth of him radiates against your skin, and it’s hard not to notice how much bigger and stronger he is than you. 

The sharp, intoxicating scent of his cologne wraps around you like a blanket, mingling with the faint trace of cigarette smoke that clings to him, adding a dangerous edge to the allure of his presence. 

It’s impossible to ignore how every inch of him feels commanding, even in the way he stands so close to you.

"You’re a married woman, after all. You’re loyal, and I respect that. But..." 

He pauses, his lips curling into a knowing smile, the hint of something far more dangerous in his eyes. "It would be wrong of me to let you leave here tonight without telling you... that you deserve more than this. You deserve to feel wanted, to feel desired."

Something inside you snaps.

Maybe it’s the exhaustion, the loneliness, the months—years—of feeling like you married a bum who couldn’t give a damn about you. 

Or maybe it’s the way Suguru is looking at you now, those sharp dark eyes, like he already knows how this is going to end, like he’s been waiting for this moment just as long as you have.

You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly, you’re in each other’s space, the tension breaking like a dam. 

His mouth is on yours, firm and demanding, swallowing the sharp, needy gasp that escapes you as his hands grip your waist, pulling you flush against him.

Your fingers find the front of his black button-up, fisting the fabric like it’s the only thing anchoring you to reality. His lips part against yours, a low sound vibrating in his throat when you arch into him.

His hands are everywhere—on your waist, your back, sliding down to your hips, fingers pressing in like he needs to memorize the feel of you beneath them. He walks you backward with slow, deliberate steps, forcing you to move with him, until the edge of his desk digs into the backs of your thighs.

A sharp inhale is all you manage before he lifts you effortlessly, his hands gripping your hips as he hoists you onto the desk.

He steps between your legs, crowding you, his breath hot against your lips. His hands spread over your thighs, fingers pressing into the soft flesh as he tugs you forward, drawing you closer with a grip that’s firm, possessive. 

One hand drifts upward, sliding to the back of your neck, his fingers curling there as he tilts your head back slightly, deepening the kiss with a slow, consuming hunger.

“This is what you need, isn’t it?” Suguru murmurs against your mouth, his voice rough, thick with something dangerous. “Someone to take care of you for once?”

You nodded weakly in response, your breath hitching as you let his mouth roam yours.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging slightly, and the low groan he lets out makes heat pool deep in your stomach. He presses himself between your legs, the firm drag of his body against yours making you gasp into his mouth.

Suguru breathes against your lips, his voice a low rasp as he rolls his hips into yours, just enough for you to feel how hard he is through the fabric of his slacks. "Feels good, doesn’t it?"

A soft whimper slips past your lips before you can silence it, your nails grazing his scalp as you clutch him closer. 

His response—a low, guttural mix of a groan and a growl—rumbles against you, sending a sharp jolt of heat through your body.

One of his hands slides up your thigh, slow and deliberate, his fingers ghosting over the sensitive skin until he reaches the hem of your skirt. His touch is light, teasing, his fingertips barely skimming beneath the fabric before he grips the material and pushes it up, baring more of you to him.

"You’ve been running yourself ragged, haven’t you?" Suguru murmurs, his lips moving to your jaw, trailing heat along your skin as he speaks. "Taking care of everyone else while no one takes care of you."

His other hand stays firm at the back of your neck, keeping you exactly where he wants you as his lips drag lower, grazing over your pulse point before he nips at the sensitive skin just enough to make you gasp.

His fingers, deft and sure, find the first button of your blouse. He flicks it open with ease, then another, and another—each one undone with deliberate precision, as if savoring the act of peeling away the layers you’ve hidden beneath for so long.

"And all this time," he continues, his voice like silk laced with something darker, "you’ve been aching for someone to touch you like this."

You should push him away, should tell him this is wrong, but when his teeth scrape lightly against your throat and his fingers slide higher, your resolve shatters completely.

"Tell me to stop," he murmurs, though his grip on you says he already knows you won’t.

Instead, you tilt your head back, baring your throat to him in silent invitation. A satisfied hum rumbles from his chest as his hand finally finds the heat between your legs, fingers pressing against the thin fabric covering you.

As he pops open the final button, the fabric parts, slipping from your shoulders as he slides the blouse down your arms, letting it pool behind you on the desk. 

His gaze darkens as he drinks you in, his thumb brushing against the newly exposed skin, tracing slow, lazy circles over your collarbone before dipping lower.

"Fuck," he groans, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he feels how soaked you already are. His fingers flex, teasing over the damp fabric, and when you arch into his touch, he exhales a shaky breath. "You’re dripping for me, aren’t you?"

Your hips jerk instinctively, chasing the friction, but he pulls his hand back just enough to keep it out of reach.

"Be patient," Suguru murmurs, his lips brushing your ear as he presses down even further on your panties. "I’m going to make this so fucking good for you."

And when his fingers slip beneath the fabric, finding your bare skin, you realize—he’s going to ruin you.

A shaky breath stutters from your lips as he works you open, his fingers sinking deeper, curling just right. The sensation is almost too much, a slow, aching pleasure that makes your stomach tighten, your nails digging into his shoulders.

"Does this feel good..?" He breathes against your mouth, his voice laced with something tender, something reverent. "Because you fuckin’ deserve it."

You barely register his other hand moving until you feel the warmth of his palm smoothing up your stomach, then higher, slipping beneath the lace of your bra. His thumb drags over your nipple, a soft, teasing brush that sends a shudder rolling down your spine.

You gasp into his mouth, your body arching into him as his fingers press deeper inside you, a slow, deliberate stroke that has your thighs trembling around his waist.

His fingers curl just right, pressing into that sweet, aching spot inside you, and the cry that leaves you is swallowed by his mouth as he kisses you deeper, his tongue sweeping over yours in a slow, intoxicating rhythm.

The slow, insistent roll of his fingers inside you has you spiraling, pleasure coiling tight in your stomach, and when his thumb finds your clit, circling with just enough pressure, your breath stutters, a choked whimper slipping past your lips.

His thumb strokes over your nipple again, this time pinching lightly, rolling the sensitive peak between his fingers, and the sensation sparks through you like a live wire. Your hands clutch at his broad shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as a sharp gasp escapes you. 

The dual sensation—his fingers working you open with slow, deliberate strokes while his other hand teases your breast—has your body arching into him, desperate for more.

Suguru chuckles, low and pleased, his lips brushing against your jaw. “So sensitive,” he murmurs, giving your nipple another slow roll between his fingers before soothing the sting with a warm, open-mouthed kiss against your throat.

Your head tips back against the desk, thighs trembling around his waist. “Suguru—” you gasp, a desperate plea wrapped in his name.

He groans in response, the sound low and wrecked, vibrating against your skin. His fingers retreat suddenly, leaving you empty, and you whimper at the loss. But before you can protest, he’s shifting, straightening up between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs as he pulls you closer to the edge of the desk.

“I know, sweetheart,” he murmurs caressing the side of your cheek, his voice thick and warm against your kiss-swollen lips. His fingers find the waistband of your underwear, hooking into it as he tugs the fabric down, his knuckles brushing against your thighs as he bares you to him.

His dark eyes flicker up to meet yours, filled with something deep, something hungry—but there’s tenderness there too, something almost reverent as he takes you in.

His hands smooth over your thighs, parting them further as he shifts between them, his own clothes rustling as he undoes his belt, his zipper—getting ready to help you where you need him most.

“‘M gonna take care of you,” he promises, low and fervent, his fingers curling around your thighs, hiking them up just a bit as he lines himself up. "Gonna make you feel so fucking good."

And then—he pushes inside, stretching you, filling you, tearing a gasp from your lips as your fingers claw at his shoulders.

His mouth finds yours again, swallowing your moans, his pace already deep, deliberate—like he’s set on making you feel every inch of him, making sure you know exactly what it means to be wanted.

Suguru’s grip tightens on your thighs as he lifts them higher, angling you just how he wants, and then—he drives into you, deep and unrelenting. 

Every roll of his hips knocks the air from your lungs, every deep, deliberate thrust sends another ripple of heat cascading through you.

You can barely think, barely breathe, your mind foggy with the heady mix of desire and disbelief—disbelief that this is happening, that you let it happen, that it feels so impossibly, devastatingly good.

Suguru groans low in his throat, his grip tightening, his fingers pressing bruises into your thighs as he holds you exactly where he wants you, giving you exactly what you needed. 

His lips brush against your jaw, his voice dark and hushed when he murmurs, "Not so bad for a parent-teacher meeting, hmm?"

The desk creaks beneath you, the sharp edge digging into your back, but you barely register it over the heat flooding your veins, over the way he stretches you, fills you, drags pleasure from you with every purposeful thrust.

Your fingers claw at his shirt, desperate to ground yourself against the overwhelming sensation. His name spills from your lips in a breathless gasp, your body arching into him, chasing more, more, more—

"That's it," he murmurs, voice rough, almost reverent. "Taking me so well."

His hands pull your legs even further up, deepening his angel, holding you open as he moves harder, faster, his breath hot against your cheek. The sharp, rhythmic press of him inside you has you unraveling, pleasure curling tight in your core, so close you can taste it, so close you can feel yourself slipping—

And then?

Well.

You never complained about going to parent-teacher meetings alone again.

a/n ⸺ I may or may not already have half of a choso version drafted if anyone wants to see that PLS LET ME KNOW

[ducktoo]

How to take care of Jiwon

IVE's Liz x Reader

Note: Anon, hope this was something you were asking for (I think). Twas' a fun prompt and I enjoyed it frfr. Feel free to DM me ur thoughts!

(This German girl do be looking cute-)

“Again?”

You don’t even look up from your computer screen. You already know who it is.

There’s a quiet giggle, followed by the sound of someone shuffling through your things. You sigh, rubbing your temple before shooting a glare at the intruder currently invading your workspace—none other than Kim Jiwon(or Liz), your childhood friend turned global idol, standing beside your desk like she owns the place.

“Can you not touch my stuff?” you grumble, snatching a framed photo from her hands before she can get any ideas.

She blinks at you innocently. “You keep this here?”

You glance down at the picture, already knowing which one she’s referring to. It’s an old, slightly faded photo from elementary school—Liz, missing her two front teeth, flashing a peace sign, while you stand beside her with the grumpiest expression imaginable. You had never liked taking pictures, but Liz had insisted back then. Looking at it now, you don’t even remember why you agreed to keep it on your desk.

“It’s just decoration,” you mutter, setting it back down.

Liz hums, but there’s a knowing glint in her eyes. “Sure, sure.”

She doesn’t leave. Of course, she doesn’t. You’re already used to this little routine.

Despite her packed schedule, Liz always finds time to drop by your office whenever she’s at the company. She claims it’s because she’s curious about what you do, but you know better. The real reason? She just enjoys annoying you.

She picks up your stationery, taps at your keyboard, sometimes even steals your coffee—because “staff coffee tastes different.” You tolerate it because, well… it’s Liz. You’ve known her since you were kids.

It’s still crazy how you both ended up here…especially after how you reunited.

-

To this day, you still don’t know how the hell that situation happened.

You had only been working at Starship Entertainment for about a month at that point. Just a regular staff member, trying not to get scolded, running around delivering paperwork, managing schedules—nothing out of the ordinary.

Then came that time.

One of your first bigger assignments had been to handle some logistics for IVE’s new comeback. Simple enough. Make sure the equipment was working, ensure the space was ready, help with any requests—it was routine.

What wasn’t routine was somehow ending up in a storage closet with a girl in a hoodie, a bucket of spilled cleaning supplies, and the worst case of déjà vu you’ve ever experienced.

…Let’s back up.

That day, you had been in a rush, carrying a stack of documents for the management team when you took a wrong turn down a hallway you didn’t usually use. It led to one of the storage rooms, where cleaning supplies and extra equipment were kept.

The door was slightly open.

Then, without warning—

CRASH.

Something—or someone—barreled right into you, sending both of you stumbling backwards into the closet.

The door slammed shut behind you.

Silence.

For a moment, you just laid there on the floor, trying to process the fact that you had just been body-slammed into a janitor’s closet. Your head throbbed. You could hear the faint creak of a mop falling somewhere nearby.

And then—

“…Wait. Grumpy?”

You froze.

That voice. That stupidly familiar voice.

Slowly, you looked up.

And there, crouched in the dim light, staring at you like she had just seen a ghost—was the one and only. Your childhood friend. The same girl you hadn’t seen in years.

In a janitor’s closet. With you.

What. The. Hell.

“…What are you doing here?” she asked, blinking rapidly.

You stared at her. “What are you doing around here in the management area?”

“I asked first!”

“I work here!”

That seemed to short-circuit her brain for a second. Her eyes widened, then darted to the staff ID clipped to your shirt. Slowly, realization dawned on her face.

“…You work at Starship?”

“Yes?!”

"Since when?!"

"Since I got hired, duh!"

Liz opened her mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again. She blinked.

Then—

She burst out laughing.

“You—You actually work here?” she wheezed, clutching her stomach. “Oh my God, this is unreal. This is so unreal.”

"Tsk." You scowled. “Glad to see my suffering is entertaining you.”

“I can’t believe this! We literally grew up together, lost contact, and now you’re working for my company? This is insane.” She wiped at her eyes, still laughing. “And—wait, you of all people? You always hated dealing with people!”

“Yeah, well, life’s funny like that,” you muttered. You rubbed your temples, exhaling through your nose. “Okay, but why were you sneaking around?”

Liz suddenly looked away, suspiciously avoiding eye contact. “No reason.”

“…You were stealing snacks from the staff area again, weren’t you?”

Silence.

“…Maybe.”

Unbelievable. Some things really never changed.

-

And that was how you reunited.

You had spent a solid fifteen minutes stuck in that closet with Liz before someone finally found you two. The rest of the staff had been utterly confused, and you had to endure Liz wheezing with laughter for the rest of the day.

Ever since then, she had made it her personal mission to annoy you at work.

Which brings you to now.

“Alright, stay put. Don’t touch anything,” you warn as you stand from your desk, stretching your arms before grabbing your phone. “I need to get some files from the storage room.”

Liz, perched on the edge of your desk like she owns the place, swings her legs lazily. “No promises.”

You narrow your eyes. “I mean it. Hands off.”

She hums innocently, lips curling into a playful smile. “Of course, of course.”

You don’t trust her one bit.

Still, you leave, because you have to, but you throw one last suspicious glance over your shoulder before stepping out.

The door clicks shut…and Liz immediately disregards your warning.

“Don’t touch anything,” she mocks under her breath, rolling her eyes. As if she could ever listen to that. "Bleh. What are you, my mom?"

She stretches her arms with a yawn, then lazily lets her fingers drift across your desk, poking at whatever looks mildly interesting. The keyboard? Tap. A stack of documents? Poke. Your half-empty coffee cup? Swirl.

And then she sees it.

A small, slightly worn notebook tucked beside your monitor, the corner peeking out as if daring her to take a look.

Curious, she pulls it free and flips it over in her hands. The second she reads the cover, her breath catches in her throat.

"How to Take Care of Jiwon the Annoying Child"

She blinks. Once. Twice.

Then, a slow, delighted smile spreads across her face.

“Oh?”

Her heart beats a little faster as she carefully flips the first page. The handwriting is neat—your handwriting. She skims over the lines, amusement bubbling in her chest.

Jiwon gets grumpy when she hasn’t eaten. Always have snacks on hand.

She giggles. “So that’s why you always have extra snacks.”

She flips to the next one.

She gets sleepy after eating too much. Don’t let her nap on the practice room floor. Would be annoying to tend to the sick Jiwon.

A small gasp escapes her lips. “Wait, is that why you always wake me up first?”

Another page.

If she’s sad, buy her ice cream. Preferably chocolate.

Her heart flutters. You really do notice everything, huh?

She keeps reading, her amusement growing. But then—

The notes start getting weirder.

If she starts humming randomly, she’s in a good mood. If she’s humming AND staring at me, she’s plotting something. Probably my usual dose of suffering.

Liz snorts. “What do you mean?”

DO NOT let her near a stray cat. She will try to take it home.

She gasps, clutching her chest. “That happened one time, trust me–”

If she says ‘Trust me,’ DO NOT TRUST HER.

Liz bursts into laughter. “Damn it! Okay, fair.”

The notes only get more ridiculous.

She once ate an entire cake by herself just to prove she could. Do NOT challenge her to food-related dares.

If she looks too smug, she probably stole my drink.

If she looks too cute and uses her dumb aegyo, she’s about to ask for a favour.

Her giggles come uncontrollably now. She flips through the pages quickly, eager to see what else you’ve written. But then—

The shift happens. The notes stop being ridiculous. They start being… something else.

When she’s nervous, she fidgets with her necklace. Let her hold onto my sleeve instead.

Her fingers touch her necklace instinctively. "Huh…you do wear long sleeves every time we meet…"

Liz acts tough, but she cries at sad movies. Keep tissues ready.

Her laughter softens. "No I don't…mostly…"

She overworks herself even when she’s exhausted. Sometimes she just needs someone to tell her to rest.

Her heart clenches.

And then, the last note. It might have been scribbled out but…She stares at it. She couldn't unsee it after once.

If she ever gets too tired, remind her she doesn’t have to do everything alone. Remind her that I’m here….

Her grip tightens on the notebook.

She rereads the words, once, twice—three times.

She always knew you cared. In your own way—grumbling, teasing, acting like she was the most annoying person in the world. But this? You had written this down. As if it was important. As if you wanted to remember, just in case.

As if she mattered.

Her chest feels warm.

The door creaks open.

“Alright, I got the—”

Your words cut off when you see her holding the notebook.

You freeze mid-step.

Liz is holding the notebook. Jiwon is reading the notebook.

Your stomach drops.

She looks up at you, notebook still clutched in her hands, her expression unreadable.

You stand there, the file folder limp in your grip.

Then, slowly, a mischievous glint appears in her eyes.

“You mother f—”

Before you can even lunge for it, Liz hugs the notebook to her chest, scrambling to her feet. Her breath comes out in an excited rush.

“Oh my god,” she breathes, eyes sparkling. “You do care about me!”

You feel actual panic set in. “PUT THAT DOWN. KIM JIWON.”

She takes a step back, holding it tighter. “No way! This is adorable! You—You actually wrote down how to take care of me?!”

You can feel your dignity slipping away.

“I— It’s not what it looks like—”

“Ohhh, let’s see what else—” She flips back to the earlier pages, reading aloud dramatically. “‘If she’s nervous, let her hold onto my sleeve instead.’”

Your ears burn as your hand subconsciously rolled up your sleeves in embarrassment.

"Oooohh, you're wearing long sleeve today as well, huh?!" Liz gasps, looking up at you with exaggerated shock. “You let me do that? Willingly?!”

You grit your teeth. “GIVE. IT. BACK.”

She twirls away, flipping through more pages. “Wait, wait—‘If she looks too smug, she probably stole my drink.’” She gasps in fake offense. “So that’s why you glare at me whenever I take a sip.”

You groan, dragging a hand down your face. “Jiwon—”

She keeps going, eyes darting across the pages. But then—

She reaches the last note again.

Her laughter fades.

Silence stretches between you.

She rereads the words, her fingers brushing lightly over the ink. Then, slowly, she lifts her head.

The teasing glint in her eyes is gone. Instead, there’s something softer. Something more sincere.

“…You really meant this?” she asks, voice quieter.

You shift uncomfortably. “U-um…I—”

Her gaze lingers on you for a moment. Then, before you can react, she lunges at you again, but this time, she hugs you.

You stiffen immediately.

“…Ya.”

She squeezes you tighter.

“Shhh,” she mumbles into your shoulder. “Just let me hug you, you tsundere.”

You stand there, unmoving, ears burning. Your hands hover awkwardly before—finally—you sigh and pat her back.

“…You’re so annoying.”

She giggles against your shoulder. “I know.”

After a moment, she pulls back, grinning. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

You roll your eyes, snatching the notebook from her hands before she can react. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t expect me to serialise this and give it to your members.”

She beams. “That sounds fun actually.”

[mocchiixxx]

Words in Ruin Series # | 09 : Kim Mingyu 🐶

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstanding, Domestic Drama, Reconciliation

Warnings: Shouting, emotional vulnerability, self-doubt, crying, making up

Summary: Mingyu has always been loud, not just in voice, but in presence. But when stress from packed schedules, rehearsals, and expectations build too high, his usual warmth disappears behind frustration. When you try to offer comfort, he shouts without thinking— only to realize the sound of his anger breaks more than the silence. It breaks you.

The apartment was unusually quiet.

You stood in the kitchen, a towel in hand, watching the storm behind Mingyu’s eyes grow darker as he paced the living room. He was late coming home again, and this time, it wasn’t just exhaustion that followed him, it was tension, spilling over with every step.

You knew the comeback preparations were taking a toll on him. The late-night practices. The re-recordings. The need to always be everyone’s sunshine when he felt like he couldn’t even light up his own world.

“Gyu,” you said gently, “I heated your food. You haven’t eaten all day.”

“I’m not hungry,” he muttered, flopping onto the couch and rubbing his face with both hands.

You hesitated before stepping closer. “Seokmim said you didn’t even touch your lunch earlier. At least eat a little bit.”

“I said I’m not hungry!” he snapped, voice echoing louder than he intended. “Can you just stop fussing over me for one second?!”

Silence...

Your eyes widened, lips parting slightly, not from fear, but from hurt.

Because the Mingyu you know...

never yelled at you.

He was the type to trip over furniture while rushing to bring you flowers. The type to laugh through mistakes and apologize over the smallest accidents. His love was loud, yes, but never angry.

Until now.

“…I’m sorry for caring,” you whispered, stepping back.

His heart dropped.

The way your voice cracked. The way your shoulders stiffened. The way your hands, which had just been setting the table with care, fell limply to your sides.

“Y/N, wait—” He stood up quickly.

But you were already walking toward the bedroom, not slamming the door, not shouting back... just quietly leaving.

And that’s what scared him the most.

Mingyu had always been loud. But your silence? It was deafening.

It took him fifteen minutes to work up the courage to knock.

He hated himself for yelling.

He hated that his frustration wasn’t with you at all, but he had thrown it at you like it was.

He hated that the one person who always looked at him like he was more than just an idol, like he was Kim Mingyu, clumsy and all, was now too hurt to even look at him.

He knocked again.

“…Y/N? ” His voice was soft this time. “Can I come in, love?”

You didn’t answer.

He opened the door slowly anyway.

You were curled on the edge of the bed, blanket wrapped around you like armor. Your eyes were closed, but he knew you were awake.

“I didn’t mean to shout,” he said, sitting on the floor beside the bed. “I wasn’t even angry at you. I’m just… tired. And I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair.”

You stayed quiet, so he kept talking.

“I don’t like who I was earlier. I always promised you I’d be better than that. That I’d never be the reason you felt small or unwanted or… like this.”

He leaned his forehead against the edge of the bed.

“I spend all day trying to be someone everyone else can lean on, but I forgot I have you to lean on too. You try to take care of me, and all I did was throw your care back at you.”

Your voice came out small. “You scared me, Gyu.”

He looked up quickly, eyes pained. “I know. And I hate that I did.”

“I’ve seen you upset,” you continued, finally turning to look at him. “But not like that. Not… angry like that. Not at me.”

He crawled up beside you now, carefully, like he wasn’t sure he had the right.

“I would never want to be the reason you feel unloved,” he said, voice breaking. “You’re the only quiet I have in this noisy world.”

You sat up, looking at him through glassy eyes. “Then don’t raise your voice just to drown me out.”

“I won’t,” he said, cupping your face gently, thumb wiping away the tear that slipped. “From now on, I’ll talk. Not shout. Not walk away. I’ll tell you what’s wrong before it builds up and explodes.”

You leaned into his touch, slowly starting to forgive.

“I just need to feel like we’re still a team,” you murmured. “Even when things get hard.”

He pulled you into a hug, arms warm and firm around you. “We are. You and me, always.”

The two of you sat in that embrace for a long time, the silence no longer sharp, but healing.

Later that night, after the silence had softened, Mingyu lay beside you, his arm wrapped around you in the way that felt like both an apology and a promise.

“I’ve been feeling… overwhelmed lately,” he confessed, his voice muffled against the top of your head. “I never wanted to bring that to you. But I kept bottling it all up, thinking I could just deal with it alone. I thought I was doing the right thing, staying strong and keeping everything in, but I didn’t realize how much it was eating me alive.”

You shifted slightly, looking up at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because… I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he said, his fingers tracing soft patterns on your skin. “I wanted to be the one to always make you feel safe and happy. But now I feel like I’ve failed you.”

“You haven’t,” you reassured him, tilting your head back to look at him more clearly. “It’s okay to not be okay sometimes, Gyu. You don’t have to be perfect for me.”

“I know,” he whispered, sighing. “But I hate that I hurt you. I never meant to.”

You cupped his cheek, gently turning his head toward you. “I’m not angry. I just… I want to help. I want you to let me in.”

He closed his eyes, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly. “I’m trying, Y/N. I really am. I just… I don’t know how to stop trying to fix everything on my own.”

“You don’t have to fix everything on your own,” you said softly. “We’re a team. We’ve always been.”

He pulled you closer, burying his face in your hair. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve all the love I have to give,” you whispered. “And you’re the only one who’s ever made me feel truly heard, Gyu. It’s okay to let me take care of you now. You’ve been doing so much for me. Let me return it.”

Mingyu stayed quiet for a while, simply holding you close. But the weight on his heart slowly began to lift, replaced with the soft comfort of your touch, the reassurance that no matter how loud the world got, you’d always be his quiet.

The next morning, Mingyu woke up before you, the sunlight casting soft patterns on the floor. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, feeling the warmth of your body beside him. He smiled softly, realizing that despite everything, you were still here.

You stirred beside him, sleepily blinking your eyes open. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, beautiful,” he whispered, brushing the hair away from your face. “Thank you for being patient with me. I’m going to be better.”

You smiled, the softest warmth in your eyes. “I know you will. And I’ll be here, every step of the way.”

Mingyu held you a little tighter, his heart full, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like he could finally breathe without the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He might always be loud, but now he knew how to use that voice for good. He had learned that love wasn’t about shouting over the noise, it was about listening when it mattered most.

And for you? he would always listen.

Taglist: @babycaratdeul @viacb97 @christinewithluv

A/N: You know what the real deal is? Mingyu would definitely seek you out immediately if you were ever in that situation. He’s not the type of man to prolong any misunderstanding or argument with his partner. This man won’t let you stay upset or mad at him for long. Whether it's through acts of service, doing silly things, non stop gentle persuading, or even taking care of everything around your shared home just to earn your forgiveness— he’ll do it all. He might even woo you with flowers, your favorite things, or your favorite food. Yes, he’ll spoil you to win you back, but not to bribe you into forgiving him— it’s more like a gift of appreciation. He’s a real man, I’m telling you; his entire being screams green flag. Overall, you’ll never feel unloved with this man being your significant other.

To whoever ends up with this man, Just know that you are incredibly lucky to be loved by someone like him. Mingyu is everyone’s dream man—loyal, caring, and endlessly thoughtful. So please, protect him like he’s your whole world. Never let go of the hands that so many only dream of holding for eternity.

[hummingbird24220]

Ello, I'm back to respectfully request Sanji with a reader who smokes. Reader has been stealing smokes from Sanji while also keeping their bad habit a secret from the rest of the crew. Once the rest of the crew find out and a light scolding from sanji (especially if you wanna do fem reader because he'd never yell at a lady in anger) Reader and Sanji become smoking buddies and it becomes a kinda unspoken thing that when sanji steps out for a smoke break reader will follow.

(A very fluffy request after the the flith I requested as a palette cleanser <3)

Yuus!! Something about Sanji smoking is just so..GODDAMN...HOT. Unfair, really.

Hope you enjoy!

Smoke Signals

Sanji x Reader

You didn’t mean to start stealing them. It just… sort of happened.

At first, it was one—snuck from a box left out on the counter while Sanji was distracted bickering with Zoro. You were planning to toss it. Honestly. But it sat in your pocket all day. And when the sun set low and the crew was distracted by a loud game of cards, you found yourself behind the galley, crouched next to a barrel, lighting it with shaking hands.

One became two. Then five. Then… well. You were practically on a schedule.

No one knew. At least, you thought no one knew. But Sanji? Sanji always knows.

It came to a head one quiet afternoon.

You were perched behind the Sunny’s mast, tucked away in your secret spot between some crates, the butt of a half-finished cigarette between your fingers. You hadn’t even gotten three puffs in before:

“That’s my brand, y’know.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, spinning to see Sanji leaning on the railing just around the corner, one eye visible through his fringe, narrowed with something between amusement and quiet judgment.

“…Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He tilted his head, slowly approaching with a cigarette of his own tucked behind his ear. He didn’t look angry—if anything, he looked… smug. Too smug.

“Thought I was losing my mind,” he said. “Box after box, lighter always warm. You think I don’t keep track of my own stash?”

You blew smoke to the side and muttered, “Thought you were just chain smoking more than usual.”

He huffed a laugh at that, crouching beside you.

“I do chain smoke,” he admitted, “but not that much. You’ve got light fingers.”

Silence.

The breeze tickled the hair at your temples, but you didn’t look at him. You focused on the cigarette instead, avoiding the way he was watching you.

“…You gonna tell the others?” you asked, tone low. “It’s a bad habit. I know. I don’t need Chopper or Nami getting on my ass.”

Sanji was quiet for a beat. When he finally spoke, it was gentle.

“No. Not unless you want me to.”

You blinked, glancing at him. “Why not?”

He shrugged. “I get it. Sometimes it’s not about the smoke. Sometimes it’s just about the moment.”

He pulled the cigarette from behind his ear and lit it, flicking the lighter once before handing it to you without looking.

You didn’t speak, just took it with a small nod.

The two of you sat like that for a while—quiet, back to the mast, knees pulled up. The smoke curled in lazy spirals, drifting off into the wind.

Then Sanji added, a little softer, “But I am cutting you off.”

You blinked. “What?”

“If you’re gonna keep the habit, you’re buying your own packs. I’m not your dealer, sweetheart.”

You snorted, laughing for the first time all day. “Fine. Stingy.”

He smirked. “Damn right I am.”

“You know, if I were anyone else, I’d be giving you a damn lecture,” Sanji said, flicking ash over the rail as you exhaled beside him. “It’s a filthy habit. Bad for your lungs, your skin, your stamina—”

“Your teeth,” you added, puffing smoke toward his head with a sly smile.

He side-eyed you. “I was being mature, thank you.”

“You’re being hypocritical.”

“Tch.”

You both went quiet for a moment, listening to the soft creak of the ship as it rocked against the sea. A gull squawked overhead. Somewhere in the distance, Usopp shouted something about a “sea beast with too many eyes.”

You took a long drag, eyes half-lidded. “How long have you been smoking anyway?”

Sanji gave a small sigh, his lips curling into a crooked smile. “Since I was about fourteen, actually. Zeff used to catch me behind crates and throw bread at my head.”

You laughed. “Sounds like something Nami would do.”

“She’d use a shoe,” he muttered, and you both grinned.

Then—

“WHAT IS THAT SMELL?!”

You froze. Sanji swore under his breath. You turned to see Chopper, eyes wide, nostrils twitching like he’d just walked into a burning pharmacy.

“WHY DOES IT SMELL LIKE BURNT POISON?!” Chopper shouted.

You panicked, immediately stuffing your cigarette behind your back (like that would help), while Sanji coolly tried to step in front of you. It didn’t work. Chopper had already seen everything.

“You’re smoking?! YOU’RE BOTH SMOKING?”

“Calm down, Chopper—” Sanji tried.

“CALM?! CALM?! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT DOES TO A DEER’S LUNGS?! OR A HUMAN’S?! OR A HALF-HUMAN-HALF-GIRAFFE—?! Wait. No. That’s Kaku.”

The shouting attracted everyone.

Luffy dropped down from the upper deck. “Smoking? Who’s smoking?” Usopp and Franky came bounding over. “Yo, what’s the drama—whoa. Are you smoking behind the barrels?!” Nami’s eyes narrowed. “Wait. You? You’re smoking?”

You looked at Sanji. He looked at you.

“…Traitors,” you muttered.

“WE KNEW SANJI SMOKED,” Nami said, pointing a very betrayed finger your way. “You were supposed to be the healthy one! The one who eats fruit voluntarily!”

“I still eat fruit voluntarily!”

“NOT ENOUGH IF YOU’RE PICKLING YOUR LUNGS!”

Franky leaned on the railing, looking impressed. “Didn’t think you had it in you. Secret smoke ninja. Suuuper stealth.”

Usopp gasped. “You’re the smoke thief! I told Sanji he wasn’t just losing them!”

Sanji, still trying to play it cool, waved a hand. “Alright, alright—everyone back off. I already gave them a hard time. They know it’s bad. They’re cutting back.”

You snorted. “No, I’m not.”

He kicked your shin. You elbowed his side. The two of you bickered until Luffy finally said:

“Wait. Are cigarettes like candy sticks?”

“NO!” “YES!” “Sanji—!”

The cook sighed, rubbing his temples. “Okay. Fine. Don’t be like me.”

Nami crossed her arms, and Robin, from the stairs above, smiled with that ominous softness. “We could always hide the cigarettes.”

Sanji and you both paled.

“Try,” you challenged, only half-serious.

“Please don’t,” Sanji added. Fully serious.

That night, the two of you lit up behind the kitchen’s back wall, now exiled to the furthest edge of the deck. You both inhaled quietly, the stars above you, the sea whispering soft shushes around the ship.

Sanji spoke first, blowing smoke toward the moon.

“…You’re gonna quit someday.”

You didn’t answer.

After a long pause, you replied, “Maybe. But not tonight.”

He bumped your shoulder. “Yeah. Me neither.”

It became a rhythm. Not one either of you planned, exactly. It just… was.

If Sanji stepped outside after a meal, still rolling his sleeves up and sighing like the weight of the kitchen was dragging him down, you’d be about thirty seconds behind him, arms crossed, pretending you were just happening to be out on deck at the same time.

If you stood up mid-conversation and brushed a hand against Sanji’s arm, gave the lightest nudge to his side or shoulder, he’d sigh with the fondness of a long-suffering boyfriend, reach into his breast pocket, and wordlessly follow.

Eventually, Sanji stopped bothering with words. He’d pat your head twice—tap tap—and head toward the usual spot near the edge of the galley, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you were following.

You always did.

It was quiet time. Not for venting, not for planning. Just existing. Just breathing the same poisoned air together while the Sunny glided across blue.

And to everyone else on the ship… it was maddeningly, weirdly cute.

One afternoon, Nami was laying out her maps, trying to concentrate while Luffy snored on the floor beside her. She didn’t even look up as she muttered:

“There they go again.”

Zoro, from the other side of the deck, raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

She jerked her chin toward Sanji, who had just padded across the deck. Tap tap. Two fingers on your head. You blinked, stood up, and followed him with zero hesitation, the two of you slipping around the corner like practiced dancers.

Zoro blinked slowly. “They really do that every day now, huh.”

Robin turned a page in her book. “Every afternoon, post-lunch, and before dinner prep. Like clockwork.”

Usopp groaned from above, dangling off the mast. “They’re like pigeons. Pigeons that blow smoke rings and flirt without knowing it’s flirting.”

“I can hear you,” you called over the wind.

“THEN STOP BEING CUTE ABOUT IT!” Usopp yelled back, voice cracking.

That evening, as the stars peeked out of the inky sky, you and Sanji leaned against the railing, barely speaking.

He offered his lighter, but you were already flicking yours.

“Beat you,” you said.

“Only ‘cause mine’s temperamental,” he muttered, puffing smoke from the corner of his mouth.

You were quiet for a moment, letting the silence settle.

Then: “Why do you pat my head like that?”

Sanji blinked. “Dunno. Habit now. Easier than calling out.”

“You do it in front of everyone.”

“Is that a problem?”

“…No.”

You leaned forward on the rail, elbows braced, head tilted slightly to the side. The way your hair caught the breeze made something tight curl in his chest. He quickly looked away.

You didn’t say anything else.

Neither did he.

But when he flicked the ash from his cigarette and nudged your elbow with his own—lightly, just once—it felt like a wordless secret. A shared ritual. A pact of smoke and quiet and weird affection.

Back in the kitchen later that night, Zoro shoved a dish into Sanji’s arms.

“You’re insufferable, you know that?”

Sanji blinked. “What did I do this time?”

Zoro rolled his eyes. “You’re turning smoking into flirting. It’s disgusting.”

Sanji just smirked, lighting another stick.

“Jealous?” Zoro growled. You walked past. Tap tap. Sanji followed you with a grin.

Zoro muttered, “I’m gonna start setting their cigarettes on fire with my swords.”

-

You didn’t always smoke anymore.

Sometimes, when Sanji stepped out for a break, you followed just to be there—hands in your pockets, leaning beside him in the breeze, letting the silence hum between you while he lit up. No cigarette in your mouth. Just presence.

He noticed the first time.

“You forgetting something?” he asked, tapping the box in his hand.

You just shrugged. “Nah. Just wanted the company.”

He blinked. Looked at you for a second too long. Then turned away, ears just barely pink.

“…‘Course,” he murmured, smoke curling around his lips.

It happened gradually. You’d disappear after docking on a new island and return with little brown-paper-wrapped bundles tucked under your arm. Sanji would be in the middle of slicing something or stirring a sauce, and you’d toss them onto the counter with a casual, “Got your favorites. That one vendor in the alley with the beard. He remembered you.”

The first time, he blinked, looked down at the pack, and tried not to smile too obviously.

“You didn’t need to,” he said, voice soft.

You just shrugged again. “Did anyway.”

Even if you weren’t low. Even if he had cartons stashed away. Even if you were technically trying to cut back.

Didn’t matter. You always brought him more. Unprompted. Like a quiet habit.

He always thanked you. But over time, the thanks started slipping into things like “You’re too sweet for your own good,” or “How’s a guy supposed to stay cool when you do stuff like that?”

The words came with little touches. A nudge of knuckles. A pat to your head that lingered half a second too long. His thumb smoothing a wrinkle out of your sleeve.

The crew noticed.

“Oh, they’re worse now,” Usopp muttered one day, watching the two of you return to the ship side-by-side, matching stride for stride.

“They’re not even smoking!” Nami whisper-hissed. “What’s the point of sneaking off together?!”

Robin didn’t look up from her book. “The point is each other.”

Franky whistled. “That’s suuuper soft.”

“Do we say something?” Chopper asked, fidgeting.

“No,” Zoro groaned. “If we say something, they’ll stop. Let the weirdos have their little smoke-date thing.”

“…You’re just mad no one shares cigarettes with you.”

Zoro turned to Usopp slowly. “You want to go through what their lungs are going through?”

“…Touché.”

That night, you leaned against the galley wall, eyes closed. Sanji was beside you, watching the stars. He was halfway through a smoke, and you were sipping a cold drink instead, exhaling like you’d just finished a long day.

He glanced at you. At your relaxed posture, the way your eyes flickered open to look at him without urgency. The way the corners of your mouth pulled just slightly upward.

He wanted to kiss you. He didn’t.

But he said quietly, “Thanks for the pack earlier.”

You just smiled and said, “Don’t mention it.”

He didn’t. Not out loud, anyway.

But when he knocked the ash off the end of his cigarette and brushed your pinky with his own, holding it there for a heartbeat longer than usual…

You understood.

-

Sanji wasn’t watching you. Not intentionally.

He just… happened to be looking in your direction. And happened to see you talking to some flashy vendor with too many rings and not enough shame. You were laughing—shoulders bouncing, face bright in a way he hadn't seen all week. And you leaned in close—too close for his comfort.

He felt something cold twist in his gut. It wasn’t rage. Not the kind that flared and shouted. It was quiet. Burning slow, like the cigarette pinched between his fingers.

He turned away.

Didn’t even finish his smoke.

Later that afternoon, you returned to the Sunny with a bounce in your step and a suspiciously smug grin.

He was cleaning up the galley, moving a little more sharply than usual. His sleeves were already rolled, jaw clenched slightly as he chopped onions like they’d personally offended him.

You came in with a paper bag and chirped, “Sanji!”

He grunted, not looking.

You held the bag out with two hands. “Look what I got. I don’t even want to smoke these—I just wanted to see your face.”

Still silent.

You dramatically opened the bag with a flourish, revealing a golden box of premium black-label, sea-aged cigarettes, the kind Sanji would never buy for himself.

His knife paused mid-chop.

You beamed. “They’re limited run! Normally like—five times the normal price! But the guy was a fan of the Straw Hats and gave me a discount!”

Sanji finally looked up. His eyes flicked from the box to your excited face, and something in his chest twisted in a completely different way.

“…You dumbass.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

He sighed, putting the knife down and walking over. He took the box gently, fingers brushing yours—just for a moment—and examined the seal with an incredulous look.

“You bought me the stupid expensive ones,” he muttered, voice softer now. “Just ‘cause you like seeing me happy.”

You shrugged, a little bashful now. “Well. Yeah.”

Sanji snorted. Then laughed. Then reached out and flicked your forehead.

“You really are a dumbass.”

You rubbed your forehead, pouting. “Rude.”

He didn’t deny it. But the way he looked at you—lingering, fond, helplessly endeared—it said more than words.

That evening, you didn’t even get a chance to step outside.

As the crew gathered for dinner, Nami finally put her chopsticks down and stared across the table.

“Alright,” she said. “What’s going on with you two?”

Silence.

You paused mid-bite. Sanji froze, halfway through pouring water into Luffy’s cup.

Robin looked amused. Usopp leaned forward eagerly. Zoro sighed with a muttered “Finally.”

Chopper blinked between you both. “Wait—are they not together?”

Luffy tilted his head. “I thought they were married.”

“MARRIED?” you both exclaimed.

“Emotionally,” Robin clarified. “It’s a very domestic vibe.”

Nami crossed her arms. “So?”

You looked at Sanji. He looked at you. There was a beat of quiet. A little laughter bubbling at the back of your throat. You nudged his foot with yours.

Sanji scratched the back of his neck, exhaled slowly through his nose, and said—

“…I like them. A lot.”

Your heart thudded once, loud.

You smiled, slow and sure. “Yeah. I like you too, cigarette hoarder.”

Luffy let out a victorious whoop. Usopp choked on his drink. Franky pumped his fist and yelled “SUUUUPER FINALLY!” Zoro raised his glass wordlessly. Robin smiled behind her book.

Nami leaned toward Chopper and whispered, “Pay up.”

He groaned and handed over ten berries.

That night, Sanji stepped out for a smoke.

He didn’t say anything.

He just tapped your head—tap tap—and waited with a crooked smile until you followed.

You didn’t smoke. You didn’t even bring a lighter. You just leaned on him while he puffed quietly, the two of you close enough to share warmth. He reached over and laced his fingers through yours.

“…This counts as a date, right?” you asked, voice low.

He chuckled, brushing your knuckles with his thumb. “Dumbass.”

But he was grinning.

And you knew he meant yes.