#I will block them immediately from fear

[theherdofturtles]

How I think these guys think England - Hobbesian / Fable of the Bees. Anti-language of Rights. Language of Law. An act committed ‘without right’— can occur only under covenant or statute ‘in-jure.’

America - Andrew Fletcher / Civic Republicanism / language of Virtues early life, but falls into language of Manners later (Scottish Enlightenment essentially). Traditional Natural Law ; Pufendorf influence.

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Okay but imagine sex pollen with Miguel fucking you on your back and then even when he cums he just keeps going and it’s spilling out and refractory period who and you’re overstimulated and he’s like no no you’re not allowed to tap out and he — and he —!!!!!

Sorry

MONA. You put me in a fucking MOOD LMFAO This is way longer than I intended. And its pure filth 🫣

Word Count: 2k+

NSFW below the cut.

Part 2

...

Earth 703- A post-apocalyptic world in which New York was nothing more than a ferocious jungle.

You stared off into the distance, the familiar city skyline overrun by wild flora and thick green vines sneaking in through broken windows and cracked concrete. 

“What the fuck.” You whispered to yourself, eyes now trained on the massive dragonfly that whizzed by you. Miguel grunted, punching a large finger over the screen of his watch.

The mission was supposed to be simple: Catch the anomaly—send them back to their own universe—go home. That’s it. No detours, no distractions. In and out.

“Are we close?” You questioned, pressing up against Miguel’s side at the sight of another massive insect, “I wanna get the hell outta here.”

“We just missed him.” He sucked his teeth. His mask disappeared in a flash of digital pixels to reveal his scowling face, narrowed red eyes and brows furrowed in frustration.

You’ve been wandering around the city for forty-five minutes, trekking through the godforsaken jungle with no luck. The anomaly, a Prowler from some random universe (you couldn’t remember, you weren’t paying attention at the meeting), was clever, quickwitted, and inconspicuous. You’d wished Miguel had chosen Jess for this one, but he’d refused. He’d used the excuse of her pregnancy but really, she’d already complained to you beforehand that the humidity would do her hair no favors. 

“What now?” You questioned, plopping down at the base of a bulky tree trunk a few feet away. The trees were so massive that the branches seemed to kiss the sky, monstrous green leaves blocking out most of the morning sunlight.

“Keep lookin’,” he huffed, running his fingers through his hair, “we’re getting close.”

“Miguel,” you whined, your head thumping back against the trunk, “you said that forty-five minutes ago.”

“Get up,” he demanded, shooting out a web of electric red to swiftly pull you toward him. You yelped, crossing the distance within seconds, crashing into Miguel's sturdy body.

“I hate when you do that.” Your words were muffled by his broad chest, peeling your sweaty cheek away from the synthetic material of his suit. The tiniest smile ghosted over his lips. 

“I know.” 

… 

You’d left Miguel on his own for a few minutes. 

You’d gotten distracted, swinging up into one of the treetops to observe one of the colorful parrots squawking in the distance. It’d looked just like the ones back home, except this one was enormous, probably bigger than a medium-sized dog. 

“Fuck!” You’d heard Miguel yell from down below, spitting out curses in Spanish, choking on the words as coughs racked his body. He’d been waving his hands in front of his face to clear his vision to no avail. You watched as his body reacted immediately to whatever it was that ailed him, his body hunching over as if in pain.

“Miguel!” You dropped to your feet in front of him and attempted to reach for him, but he recoiled, fearing your touch. 

“Stay back!” he wheezed, crouching down and holding his head in his hands.

“What’s wrong?”

“It hurts,” he groaned, his eyes screwed shut as his body trembled, his fingers weaving through his thick hair strands to violently tug from the root.

“Stop,” you scolded, getting on your knees in front of him to pry his hands away, “tell me what’s wrong so that I can help you.” You shoved him down by the shoulders so that he was sitting with his knees out, bringing a hand to his face and yanking it up by his chin. His eyes, normally a mahogany shade glowed a disturbing red, his pupils dilated. 

“Ran into a plant,” he forced the words from his throat, his skin gleaming with sweat, “s-some flower, I don’t know, some kind of pollen.” He groaned again, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Shit, ok, ok, ok, we can fix this,” you panicked, placing the back of your hand against his forehead. He was burning, skin blistering hot. “Where does it hurt.”

Miguel remained silent, breathing harshly through his nostrils as beads of sweat began to trickle down his face. He looked down between his legs and you followed his line of vision. Oh. OH.

His bulge was tenting through his suit, fighting against the restraints of the digital fabric. The area glimmered brightly before his cock burst through the pixels, flopping out and twitching with need.

Miguel was big. 

His cock stood tall and proud, bobbing against his stomach, the tip leaking a thin bead of precum that ran down his length. 

You stared for a moment, transfixed on the angry red tip before you found your voice. “Miguel—”

“You need to go,” he spat viciously, his fangs protruding as if to scare you away, “if you don't I’ll—” He stopped himself, lips pressed into a tight line as his chest began to heave. You could hear his heart rate accelerate with every passing second.

“Let me help you,” you whispered, your hand hovering over his cock. He looked away from you, his skin flushed from his cheekbones to the tips of his ears. “Miguel, please, let me help you.”

“I don’t want to force—”

“You’re not forcing me,” you breathed, letting the pad of your finger tap against his tip, smearing his precum over the surface. Your cunt throbbed, squeezing tight with an overwhelming desire to be filled. “I want to.” You cooed, your tone causing his eyes to flutter. 

Miguel grunted, grabbing your hand and placing it over his throbbing cock.

“Then help me.” He hissed.

…

You needed a new suit. Immediately.

Miguel had torn into it, ripping the seams apart from the crotch, all the way up to your neck, revealing your chest and glistening pussy. You had no time to complain, mewling when he spread your thighs apart with his large hands, his eyes trained on the heat between your legs before diving in to eat from you.

You squealed, your hands flying to his head as he kissed and licked and spit over your cunt, his nose pressing against your clit. His tongue dipped into your hole a few times before licking one long stripe up to your bundle of nerves, swirling his tongue around it before sucking it into his mouth.

Okay—you’ve had your pussy eaten before, but goddamn never like this, never like it was a matter of life or death, as if your pussy alone was the answer to all things.

Miguel continued his ministrations, releasing a growl every few moments, licking to oblivion until you thought his jaw would lock. 

He made you see stars, groaning loudly as you gushed into his mouth. He savored your tangy taste as he lapped at your wet folds, making sure to lick up every drop he could find. 

His mouth and chin were soaked in your juices when he came back up, and it shot a fresh wave of arousal through your veins. His hand reached out to cup your face, his thumb smearing over the traces of his cum dotting across your cheek when you’d sucked him off earlier, catching some of it in your mouth before he'd pulled out, wanting to paint your face with it at the last moment. 

He dipped his thumb into your mouth, forcing you to clean it as he slid his cock over your messy pussy, smearing the underside in your juices. His body shook with need, his eyes glazed and lidded, teeth sinking into his lower lip as he whimpered something about you being so wet.

He pulled out his thumb from your mouth with a pop and watched how you panted underneath him, your exposed skin now covered in a sheen of sweat.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, positioning your legs over his shoulders before draping himself over you, folding you in half, “I’m sorry if I’m not gentle.”

Gentle? You were a big girl, you didn’t need him to be—

You cried out as soon as he pressed his fat head into your tiny hole, forcing your pussy to open up for him as he pushed in deeper without giving you much time to adjust.

“Fuck,” you sobbed, your hands scrambling to grip his arms as he began to thrust his hips, dragging his cock in and out of you at a bruising pace. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Miguel began to babble, grunting when your cunt squeezed the life from him, the slick noises of your drenched pussy egging him on. 

Maybe…gentle would have been nice knowing now how big he was, but you understood the circumstances of the situation. This was meant to be anything but gentle.

He had you coming again, your back arching and your bare chest pressing against his clothed one before he filled you with his own spend, pushing it as deep as he could into you. He pulled out harshly causing you to moan, watching his cum leak from your swollen pussy before slapping his length over your folds a few times and dipping back in.

He fucked you harder this time until your pussy throbbed and burned from the size of him, filling you up with so much of his cum, and delighting in the way it dripped out of you. 

“Again.” He grunted, pushing his cock into your convulsing walls, slamming in deep as he licked and sucked on your nipples, leaving red love marks over your skin. You sobbed from the pleasure, feeling his weight push you into the ground.

“I can’t!” You cried, pushing weakly against his shoulders.

“You can and you will.” Miguel commanded. He couldn’t stop, barely giving you a minute to catch your breath after making you both cum again before sinking into your searing heat, stretching you beyond your limits.

You were lightheaded and spent, losing count of the number of orgasms he’d given you. Miguel growled, pulling out his cock from your abused hole and shooting his load over your body. He pressed it into your skin, smearing it over your breasts and tender nipples, down your abdomen, and finally, over your burning pussy. 

He paused, his eyes tracing over your fucked out form before reaching down to pump himself with the leftover cum in his hand.

“I’m sorry, Hermosa,” he whispered, draping himself over you again, “I can’t stop, you feel too good. So fucking tight.” He slurped your nipple into his hot mouth, sucking the taste of him from your skin as he pushed his large cock into you. 

Your eyes fluttered and you cried out, your fingers digging into the earth, focusing on nothing but Miguel's rich voice:

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m—

…

It was nightfall by the time Miguel was satiated.

You felt weak, eyes heavy with sleep and body limp. Miguel sat against a tree and had you cradled in his arms, your body nestled comfortably between his legs. He rested his head over yours, inhaling the scent of sweat and dirt trapped in your hair. 

“See that flower?” He muttered, pointing straight ahead at a few giant white daisies clustering around a tree. They were massive, like everything else in that universe, the stems taller than Miguel when he was standing at his full height. You nodded sleepily, ignoring the ache in your still exposed cunt. “Don’t go near it.”

“Got it.” You absentmindedly played with the frayed pieces of your suit, letting Miguel shield your exposed skin from the elements.

You probably should’ve left already, should’ve gone back to HQ for a much-needed shower and rest, probably schedule another meeting, but Miguel wouldn’t budge, his grip on you tightening whenever you so much as shifted against him.

“Quèdate quieta.” He grunted.

“Miguel,” you protested, “we have to go home. The anomaly—”

“I know, hermosa,” he murmured softly, “I know.” You never seen him this soft before, nor speak in such a gentle way, not with anyone and least of all, not with you.

You both sat there in silence, processing what happened while listening to the sounds of the jungle, the birds chirping in the distance, the leaves rustling in the gentle wind. You sighed, playing with his interlocked fingers over your stomach. It was strangely intimate (despite everything else that happened), having him coddle you. 

“Miguel?”

“Mm?” 

“You better get me a suit like yours.” 

“What’s wrong with the fabric ones from HQ?”

“It’s a waste if you’re just gonna rip it off again.” You heard him snort out a breath, just the tiniest thing that implied he understood your meaning. You were hoping this wouldn’t be the first nor last time you’d be under him. “We got a deal?” 

Miguel chuckled, his hand leaving the safety of your abdomen to venture down into your sopping-wet folds. You bit your lip, spreading your tired thighs, whimpering as his thick fingers swirled inside.

“Deal, Hermosa.”

...

Quèdate quieta- Keep still

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ THE CUTEST COUPLE ON THE INTERNET! ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: what happens when you flirt with one of his many rivals?

contents: fem!reader. playful jealousy, it's nothin' serious. toji flirts with you <3 chat continues to make fun of satoru + fortnite slander. pretty short but uh... anyways.

author's note: live laugh love streamer!gojo

"c'mon, satoru," suguru drawls, smiling at your boyfriend through the screen. "how'd you get eliminated so fast? you must've set a world record," he teases, poking fun at the way satoru completely bombed the last round.

you snicker from your spot on satoru's bed, and he turns and sticks his tongue out at you. satoru had convinced you to come over just a couple minutes ago, and any hope you had of doing your homework in peace flew out the window the moment he went live. 

"shut up," satoru huffs, turning back to his monitor and scrunching up his nose at suguru. the two are close enough for them to banter and insult each other without any fear of resentment. suguru laughs in response, velvety voice resulting in a burst of heart emojis from the comments.

"well, i gotta go," suguru sighs, leaning back in his dark, plush chair. he smiles and waves with a reminder of when his next stream will be before signing off. 

satoru spins around in his chair a couple times and scrunches up his face at the screen. "why are you guys still here?" he asks, ruffling his hair and raising an eyebrow. "y'wanna see my girlfriend again or something?"

the chat explodes with a flurry of yes's, so satoru swivels his chair around and looks straight at you. he looks at you expectantly, opening his arms and beckoning you. "c'mere, sweetheart," he says, voice singsongy and light.

"you're so annoying," you mumble, rolling over and hopping off his bed.

"and i'm all yours," satoru replies immediately, shooting you a cheeky smile. 

whenever you call him annoying or stupid or a clueless idiot, satoru responds the same way every time. and both of you know that you certainly can't do much better than your sweetheart of a boyfriend, even if he is the brattiest boy you know.

you run your fingers through your hair and walk over to him, resting your chin on his shoulder and waving at his camera. "hey guys," you say with a smile. satoru turns to his head to kiss your cheek affectionately, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer.

as you lean into satoru's embrace, you scan the comments. most of them are either hi's and hello's, but a select few make you laugh.

yuuji-itadori: they make me feel so single :( 

inumaki: brb im about to violently throw up

toji-fushiguro: she can do so much better tbh

satoru scoffs at the last two comments, jutting his chin out and glaring at the screen. "why are you two still here?" he huffs, pointing at the camera and narrowing his eyes. the hand on your waist tightens as satoru pulls you into his lap. "inumaki, don't you have a fortnite round to lose? and you, toji, i'm this close to blocking you from my streams!" he grumbles. 

the chat explodes with various expressions of laughter, and you can't help but giggle at the responses satoru's jibes get.

inumaki: kys

inumaki: whats wrong with playing fortnite??? most fire game ever fym

toji-fushiguro: im not here for u loser

satoru mimicks inumaki with a high-pitched voice and goes on a minute-long tangent of why fortnite is the one of the shittiest games ever, and eventually inuaki chooses to retreat with a last snarky comment before he disappears. then, your riled-up boyfriend turns on toji.

"if you're not here for me, who could you possibly be here for?" satoru snorts, resting his chin on the top of your head. his hands intertwine as he wraps his arms around you snugly, securing you on his lap.

the next message from toji catches you and satoru off-guard, but your reactions are entirely different. you laugh and smile bashfully, while satoru nearly knocks you off of him when he yells "what?!"

toji-fushiguro: i'm here for your pretty gf duh

before satoru can fire a thousand insults toji's way, you reach up and clasp your hand over his mouth. your boyfriend's eyes widen in the reflection of his monitor, and you have to suppress the urge to ruffle his hair and kiss him stupid. sure, you'll probably make out with him after the stream, but you think that it'd be even more fun to mess with him first.

"aw, you think i'm pretty?" you ask playfully, directing your words at toji. "i've seen you around," you muse, twirling a strand of hair around your finger with the hand not covering satoru's mouth. you smile coyly at the screen before continuing, "you're not so bad yourself, honestly."

satoru whines incredulously against your hand, and you can't suppress the laugh that slips past your lips. he bounces his foot on the floor impatiently, and eventually he reaches around you and quickly presses a couple buttons to end the stream. "baby, i love you but sometimes you drive me crazy," he grumbles, hoisting you over his shoulder as he stands up. 

"let me go!"

"okay!" he replies, dropping you on his bed with a cheeky smile. satoru's eyes narrow as he watches you scramble to sit up, and you puff up your cheeks indignantly. satoru plops down next to you and pulls you into his chest, face barely an inch away from yours.

"what was that?!" satoru whines, glaring at you sullenly. he tugs at the bottom of your shirt and juts out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout.  

"satoru, are you jealous?" you snicker, leaning in and kissing his nose. he scrunches his face up and frowns, but the corners of his mouth seem to tilt upwards. satoru pulls you into a kiss and holds you there for a second, smiling against your lips. 

"no," satoru huffs, rolling his eyes. "i'm hotter than him, and i'm not a total asshole." he wraps his arms around your waist and nudges your cheek with his nose, clear blue eyes focused on your lips. 

"true," you agree, wrapping your arms around his neck and melting into his embrace. satoru really is the best boyfriend you could ask for—everything about the two of you just works.

satoru pinches you gently and kisses your nose. "say that you love me."

you smile and close your eyes, suddenly more relaxed than you've been in the last couple days. "of course i love you, dummy."

"love you more, cheate— ow, i'm kidding, i'm kidding!"

[bpmiranda]

Beauty and the beast trope with Beast!Logan and Belle!reader has some interesting possibilities xoxoxo

Beauty And The Beast (Logan Howlett)

A/N: fluffy, beast!logan, belle!reader, soft!logan

Everyone in town knew to avoid the cabin nestled between the mountain hills. No one was brave enough to take that hike, scared of the rumors, terrified of being caught on his property.

They told their children bedtime stories of the beast living in the hills. Cautionary tales to keep them from wandering too far into the woods. And he liked it that way, he enjoyed the solitude, the fear of him.

At least he thought he did.

You were driving home from college during a rainstorm. It wasn’t a terribly long trip, but having to drive slow due to the slick, winding roads of the hills did add onto your time and the night had fallen around you. You hated driving in the rain. Your mother had passed away due to an accident in a storm similar to this one and the thought made you anxious.

As soon as you thought about perhaps calling your dad, letting him know you might be late, a flash of lightening and clap of thunder startled you. The blue light of the storm illuminated the road in front of you and you gasped as you realized a large tree had fallen into the road, blocking your path so that you had nowhere to go. “Damn it.” You breathed out, looking around at your surroundings and sighing. You couldn’t very well wait the storm out here in the middle of the road. Where could you go? The town was still a good forty miles down the hill and there was absolutely nothing around here. Except - “Ah!” You gasped, startled out of your thoughts by another clap of thunder and you sighed, holding you heart over your chest and breathing heavily.

There was no other choice.

Slowly, you turned back around and drove through the woods, your breathing shallow and shaky as you could see the lights of his cabin. You didn’t know if anyone that ever came here, you weren’t sure if this might even be the correct cabin. Surely there were other people who owned cabins? To avoid a whole mountain because of one man seemed excessive, terrifying as the stories may be.

The cabin wasn’t covered in moss or decorated in human skulls as you had been told as a little girl, so you figured it was safe enough to knock on the door in seek of shelter. Before you could even get out of your car, the front door opened and in the doorframe, silhouetted by the light behind him, stood an incredibly tall and large man, the supposed beast living here. Your breath hitched in your throat as you slowly got out of your car. You waved, and immediately wanted to smack yourself. Why on Earth are you waving? You thought as you slammed your car door shut and slowly made the walk up the driveway, uncaring of the rain as it poured down on you.

“What do you want?” His voice called as you stood at the bottom of the porch, shivering and holding your arms tightly as the cold rain sliced against your skin.

“The road is blocked by a tree. There’s no way to get to town.” You explain, squinting to try to get a glimpse of his face. “I-I need a place to stay for the night.”

The man was silent until he stepped back into his cabin and left the door open for you to come in. You quickly followed him, closing the door behind you and turning to see, not a beast, but a very attractive man with lots of hair and a thick beard. You could understand the term beast if it meant large and muscular, but he wasn’t ugly or foul-looking as they had claimed him to be. No, he was just a man.

“That road won’t be cleared in the morning.” He told you and you gave him a confused look. “No one comes up here. They’re not going to clear it anytime soon. Especially not for me.”

“Oh,” You breathed out, looking around the cabin and wondering where the townspeople got the idea that he lived like an animal in filth. It looked very much like a home. “I have nowhere to go.”

Logan had never seen someone quite like you. So beautiful while drenched in rain and a shivering lip. Your eyes so deep and big, looking at him without fear, without judgement. You couldn’t possibly be one of the townspeople. He would’ve remembered you. “What were you doing up here?” He asked as he walked into his kitchen and began to gather mugs.

“I’m visiting my dad from college. I grew up in the town at the bottom of the mountain.” You explain, following him and watching him pour some coffee. “I don’t mean to be a burden.”

The man turns to you and sets the mugs on the table, pulling a chair out and motioning for you to sit. “You couldn’t have known. Have a seat, warm up while I find you something dry to wear.” He said as he left you sipping coffee at the table and retreated into the back of the cabin.

When he returns, he looks apologetic as he’s holding a flannel that appears to be one of his own and nothing else. A blush creeps onto your face and you set your mug down. “I didn’t think you’d have much that would fit me.” You say with a light laugh as you get up and approach him. “Thank you, um -”

“Logan.” He answers as he hands you his flannel. Your laugh made his heart jump, the feeling of your soft fingers lightly grazing his hand as you take the shirt sends an electric signal up his arm and he craves more. More of your touch, if to just hold your hand at the very least.

While you’re changing out of your wet clothes, Logan’s decided to fix you something to eat, but he’s not sure of what you eat. Are you a vegetarian? Maybe you have allergies. It’s then that he begins to wonder why he’s even making a fuss. You’ve only had her in your home all of five seconds and you’re playing husband, he scoffs to himself and turns around just to stop dead in his tracks at the sight of you.

His flannel falls right above your knees and you’ve cinched it with the belt you had looped through your jeans. Your hair is messy and wavy from the rain, falling softly over your shoulders and he feels his heartache at the sight. “Almost a perfect fit.” You say as you pad barefoot over to him and take the seat you were previously occupying. “Are you certain I’m not being a bother, Logan?” You ask as you look up at him with those wide eyes, chewing your bottom lip nervously.

Logan shakes his head, sitting across from you as he smiles. “Not at all. Stay as long as you must, please.” You smile bashfully and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as you notice the ingredients he had set out on the counter.

“Oh! Let me do this.” You say, immediately getting up and preparing to fix you both a meal while Logan watches, enthralled by you.

As you’re cooking, Logan asks you about your studies. You ask him about how he ended up in this mountain. He asks about your father, and you ask about his. Then he asks about your mother. “She passed away last year.” You say with a small, sad smile. The pain still slightly raw.

“I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” You say while stirring the contents of the pot gently simmering. “She passed away on this mountain, a car accident during a storm like this one.” You recall and a shiver runs up your spine. Logan nods slowly. “It’s been hard without her. She was very kind and sage, always knew exactly what to say to make me feel better.” Your eyes find his sympathetic ones boring into you and you ask, “Do you know what it’s like?”

“I do.”

You smile kindly at him and you lower the heat on the stove to let it finish cooking slowly before you sit across from him at the table. “Why do they call you a beast?” You ask curiously. Logan chuckles and then holds one hand up from where three large blades slide out between his knuckles and your eyes go wide. “Oh, you’re one of the gifted.”

“Most just call us mutants, or in my case, beasts.” Logan says as he retracts his claws.

You frown and reach over to place your hand over his. The feeling of your small, warm hand gives him that longing feeling again. “You shouldn’t hide up here because of it. You’re just a man at the end of the day. Those fairytales are just that, stories for children. Being gifted like this doesn’t make any of it true.”

Logan’s hand turns around under yours and he holds it gently, his thumb caressing the top of your hand. “I’m afraid no one in that town would be as accepting and kind as you, beautiful.” He says, making you blush as he lifts your hand and kisses your knuckles.

The oven suddenly dings, indicating that the bread is done, you squeeze his hand affectionately. “You hungry?” You ask as you’re getting up to plate dinner for the both of you.

Logan’s eyes follow you, watch every movement of yours with a hawk’s eyes. His tongue moistens his lips as you reach into a cabinet for bowls, his flannel rising slightly on your small frame and giving him a better view of your thighs. “Very.”

I feel like there will have to be a second part🙈 Thank you very much for this request! I thoroughly enjoy Disney movies💚

Part Two

[chuluoyi]

✎ sick days

- gojo satoru x reader

who holds the fort when you fall sick? of course, it's your lovesick husband and baby!

genre: fluff, fluff, fluffff. basically, your baby is adorable, gojo is your husband and not only is he lovesick with you, he humors your baby so much it’s making me— sighs

note: based on this post! hi hi chu is back from vacation and here’s another dad!gojo fluff indulgence and we stan domestic men okay🤭

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

It's plain sight that Gojo Satoru is a highly attractive individual, and now that he has a son, it's fair to say that he’s the hottest dilf on the block.

With one hand twirling a famous brand of flu medicine box and the other propping his baby son at his hip, he garnered curious eyes, even in drugstore near his home.

“Hmm, why is it so cheap? Suspicious…”

Satoru let out a light hum, studying the orange and pink boxes, as well as glancing at the other purple box with bold labels claiming its effectiveness in halting cold symptoms, and then looked at his son.

His baby's big, crystal blue eyes blinked in wonder at the vibrant colors, and he reached out with grubby hands towards them. “Bwah!”

Suddenly, he got an idea.

“Hey, kiddo. Which do you think is better for mama?” he asked the baby, gesturing at the all three medicine on the rack with his jaw. “You choose.”

As if on cue, the little ball of fluff that was his son immediately reached out for the purple box, the more expensive out of all three displayed before him. Without missing a beat, he also seized both the orange and pink boxes in quick succession, holding them close to his chest.

Satoru broke into a hearty laugh, a wide grin split his face, as he affectionately tousled the boy's head with pride.

“That's my boy! Splurging is allowed—after all, we're rich!”

When the first signs of cold manifested in you, Satoru was already worried. He had warned you to take more rest, but typical you, you brushed it off as a mere fatigue.

And when this morning, you woke up to sudden coughing fits and hot-and-cold spells, which ended up with kicking him out of your shared bedroom in fear of spreading the virus, like the doting husband he was, Satoru promptly headed to the pharmacy with your baby in tow to get you some help.

"Oh my, sir, your son is so adorable!" the female cashier gushed when he got over to pay, finally voicing what other customers thought in their heads. He could sense the discreet glances from those around him even now.

As the baby clung to his shirt, Satoru tightened his grip on him and responded with a self-assured grin, ensuring those nearby heard his words, "Of course he is! My wife is pretty as heck too, shame she's down with fever today."

"Aww! Such high praise, you must adore your wife!"

"Mm-hmm!"

Ah, so he still has a wife. The other customers went about their day, some disappointed that the dilf was still evidently devoted to his wife. They could only wonder just who could the lucky woman was.

Moving on— after the short trip to the drugstore, Satoru went back home. He promptly checked on you in your master bedroom, inquiring, "Hey, how are—"

But he immediately halted upon seeing you nestled so comfortably under the blankets, sleeping soundly. For a moment, he simply stood, blinking and observing your serene slumber.

Strange that something inside him both softened and lurched at the sight. You were just that precious in his eyes. Stupid as it was, he was quite miserable to go through the day without your nagging and nitpicking. And above all, he never liked seeing you in any kind of discomfort—it made his protective instincts soar.

Hence his thought— there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, even if it means sacrificing heaven itself.

“Myah!” A hard shove on his arm and his baby’s babbling snapped him out of his trance. Satoru shifted his baby to his other hand, let out a questioning hum, and affectionately pinched his mochi-like cheeks.

“Hmm? You can’t be hungry, I—oooh,” a sheepish expression of realization appeared on his face, his blue eyes widened slightly as his baby glared at him. Then, chuckling like the goofball he was, Satoru patted him on his head to appease his grudge, “I haven’t fed you since this morning, eh?”

“Fwah!”

“Pfft! There, there… Me is sorry~ Now let me whip something up for you and mama, yeah?”

Now, he wouldn't claim to be the best chef, but he could certainly cook to save himself. Rolling up his sleeve, he went to the kitchen after leaving and stuffing his baby boy with a pacifier on his high chair.

“Hmmm, baby food for the minion and… congee? Yeah, congee should be good.”

Next task was feeding his already seething baby after he mixed together his baby food. He was a fussy eater—mostly with him, but surprisingly not so much with you (apparently, that's just his way of showing who he favors between his parents, heh). But when he managed to get the food in, with every spoonful, his son’s smile gradually widened, and so did his happiness.

Satoru thought then that he was the cutest thing he had ever created. His son was clearly a mini-him, but his reactions were definitely so you.

“Is it tasty? It is, isn’t it?” he cooed with baby voice, earning a delightful giggle in response from his son. Pushing his luck, he added with a suggestive grin, “Papa is the best, isn’t he?”

“Bwah...” The joyful expression on his baby's face faded instantly, dissolving into an unamused pout, prompting Satoru to righteously click his tongue.

“Why are you so against me?!”

After he was done with his fill, Satoru picked your baby up to the master bedroom to bring you something to eat. Seated on the opposite edge of the bed, he silently adored your sleeping form once again.

Right at that moment, the baby in his arms wriggled, reaching out for you. Acting on a sudden impulse, he put him on the bed, facing you.

“Now, go to mama, would you?” he whispered gently, grinning and giving his bum a light pat. “Go!”

Your son was also Gojo Satoru’s son, therefore he was an adept crawler even at barely seven months old. With remarkable agility, the little soldier steadily moved towards you, his diapers jiggling with each motion. He stopped right in front of your face, clearly recognizing you as his mother.

And your husband swore that even his logic-driven heart melted at the sight of your cute baby suddenly leaned in and clumsily smooched your nose.

Simply just the two most treasured loves of his life.

“Mm?” you let out a soft grunt, feeling the dryness in your throat as you cracked your eyes open, surprised to find yourself face-to-face with your baby. “Oh… why are you here? Don’t get too close…”

“He’ll be fine.” Satoru picked your son up, placing him on his knee and steadying him with one arm. Having moved next to you on the bed, he brushed hair from your forehead. “What about you, hmm? Feeling better?”

Your eyebrows creased into a frown. “Yeah, I think, but more than that, Satoru, I’ve told you, don’t let him—”

“Yes, yes, sweetheart. He won’t get sick, look, he’s as healthy as he can be~” and to make a point, he turned his baby over and lightly smacked his bottom, prompting a whimper from the little one and a gasp from you.

“Don’t spank him!”

“Ehh? Then can I spank you instead?”

“Satoru, you’re a little piece of—!”

Just you and him, as well as the little treasure that was your son. This little family was enough reason to live. To win.

And Gojo Satoru once again thought, that being the strongest didn’t really mean that much anymore because with his world in his hands, nothing else matters.

Epilogue

“You’re so silly, why did you buy so many?” you grumbled at the sight of three different brands of cold medicine your husband displayed in front of you. “One is enough, do you want me to overdose?”

Satoru snickered. “Don’t blame me, blame your kid. He’s the one picking all of them.”

You totally didn’t get what he meant at all, but yeah, your husband was the silliest human ever and that’s that.

“Hey, don’t you think it’s a bit smelly here?” Satoru suddenly asked, wearing a quizzical expression.

You took a sniff of the air, glancing at your baby blinking innocently and sitting calmly on your husband, and a realization struck you. “Uh, Satoru...”

Following your gaze, as if sensing an omen, Satoru hastily scooped up his son, letting out a bewildered gasp as he felt a slight wetness where the baby had been sitting on him.

“Did he just poo on me?!”

[lxvsiick]

CALLING ON MY ANGEL | PARK SUNGHOON X READER

PAIRING: troublemaker! park sunghoon x good girl! fem! reader

SUMMARY: She was a sweet angel in his world of darkness.

GENRE: imagine, grumpy x sunshine?

WORDCOUNT: 3.3k

A/N: honestly, i don't know what was going on in my head when i wrote this -- but chase atlantic and enhypen just go together so well ,, anyways this is a story/imagine inspired by the song ANGELS by Chase Atlantic! Enjoy!

It was late, and the streetlights flickered dimly, casting long shadows across the pavement as Y/n made her way home from her shift at the convenience store. Her steps were light, but exhaustion weighed her down. The night air was crisp, the silence only broken by the occasional car passing by.

As she turned the corner, a group of guys about her age noticed her. Their voices lowered to murmurs, and then, as if on cue, they called out to her.

"Hey, pretty lady, what’s the rush?" one of them asked, his tone slimy and casual.

Y/n tensed immediately, her heart racing as they approached her, their confidence unnerving. They surrounded her, blocking her path, their grins widening as they tried to engage her with flirty remarks that only made her skin crawl.

"Come on, stay and chat for a bit," another one urged, his voice dropping in what he likely thought was a charming way.

"I... I really need to go," she stammered, trying to sound firm but unable to hide the tremor in her voice. Her eyes darted around, looking for an escape, but the street was empty.

The guys chuckled, sensing her discomfort and ignoring her quiet rejection. One of them stepped even closer, his hand grazing her arm, making her shrink back in fear. Just as panic started to rise in her chest, a figure appeared on the sidewalk, heading in their direction.

Sunghoon walked toward them, his head down, the hood of his black hoodie pulled low over his face. Without slowing his pace, he bumped into one of the guys, shoulder to shoulder, knocking him slightly off balance.

"Hey, watch it!" the guy barked, turning aggressively. But when he saw Sunghoon’s face, he froze. The cut on his cheek was still fresh, and the bruise beneath his eye only added to the dark, dangerous aura he carried. His expression was cold, unreadable, and his reputation preceded him.

"Wait... that’s him," one of the other guys muttered in panic, recognition flashing across his face. Sunghoon and his group were well-known around campus—troublemakers you didn’t mess with unless you had a death wish.

The tension in the air shifted immediately. Without another word, the group of guys glanced at each other nervously and started to back off, retreating with hasty steps as they muttered excuses under their breath. They quickly disappeared down the street, their bravado shattered.

For a moment, Y/n stood frozen in place, her heart still pounding. Then, she let out a shaky breath, relief flooding her as she turned to face her unexpected savior.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible in the quiet night.

Sunghoon didn’t respond. He merely continued walking, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie, his face obscured beneath the hood. But there was something about his presence that eased her fear. Without thinking, she began to follow him.

He didn’t look back, but after a few steps, his pace slowed, just enough for her to catch up. They walked side by side in silence, the tension of the moment gradually fading away. The comfort of his silent protection was enough to keep her calm as they walked through the empty streets, heading in the same direction.

Though no words were spoken, the quiet connection between them felt stronger than any conversation they could have had.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

Y/n strolled down the school hallway, a bounce in her step and a smile on her face. In each hand, she held a can of soda, one of them a free gift from the vending machine that had decided to be generous today. The students who passed by greeted her with warm smiles and waves, and she returned them just as brightly. Known for her kind heart and friendly demeanor, she was one of those people everyone gravitated toward.

As she approached the quieter end of the hall, where the lights dimmed slightly and fewer students wandered, a faint groan reached her ears. She slowed her pace, her smile fading as curiosity took over. Her eyes scanned the area, searching for the source of the sound.

Then she spotted him—Sunghoon, slumped against the wall, half-hidden in the shadowed corner of the hallway. His head rested back, eyes shut, a pained expression on his face. He looked like he had just come out of a brawl, the bruises on his face making it clear that he hadn’t come out unscathed.

Letting out a quiet gasp, she hurried over to him, crouching down beside him. “Are you okay?” she asked softly, concern lacing her voice.

Sunghoon groaned again, wincing as he tried to shift slightly. “Go away,” he muttered through gritted teeth, his voice rough and tired.

Y/n didn’t budge. She tilted her head, eyes narrowing as she studied his battered face. Then, as if a lightbulb flicked on in her mind, an idea popped into her head. Without a word, she grabbed the extra can of soda from her hand and gently pressed it against his bruised cheek.

He winced at the cold metal against his skin, eyes flying open in surprise. “What the—” he started, only to stop short when he saw her sitting there, looking at him with that same concerned expression.

“Use it,” she said, offering him a small smile. “And you really should stop getting into so many fights.”

For a moment, he didn’t know what to say. His usual tough exterior seemed to falter as he stared at her, completely caught off guard. She looked so calm, so kind, her face glowing in the soft light filtering into the hallway. In his dazed state, she looked almost angelic—like someone who didn’t belong in the world of trouble and chaos he often found himself in.

She seemed to notice him staring and a faint blush crept up her cheeks. Flustered, she quickly stood up, brushing imaginary dust off her skirt. “Anyway, um, I’ve got to go,” she stammered, taking a step back. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

Before he could respond, she turned and hurried off down the hall, leaving him behind, still holding the can of soda against his cheek. He watched her retreating figure, the echo of her footsteps fading into the distance.

As he sat there, her words and that small act of kindness played over in his mind. A strange warmth filled his chest—a feeling he wasn’t used to.

For the first time in a while, Sunghoon wasn’t sure what to make of it.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

Y/n stood behind the counter of the convenience store, her fingers idly tapping against the scanner as the hum of fluorescent lights filled the quiet air. It was a slow night—until the bell above the door jingled, announcing a loud group entering the store. Her gaze lifted, recognizing Sunghoon and his six friends immediately. They were laughing and talking, their voices filling the otherwise calm atmosphere.

She couldn’t help but smile a little at the sight of him. When his eyes finally met hers from across the store, she gave him a small, friendly wave. But instead of a smile in return, he only nodded coolly before turning his attention back to his friends.

She swallowed, her smile faltering as she watched him walk over to join his group, who were busy picking out snacks and drinks from the aisles. Despite the brief, almost indifferent interaction, she found herself glancing over at him every now and then, wondering what was going through his mind.

A few minutes later, his friends approached the register, arms full of snacks and drinks, still chattering away. She straightened up, putting on her professional face as they piled their items onto the counter.

“That’ll be $19,851 wons,” she said after scanning everything.

Jake shot her a mischievous grin. “Oh, don’t worry, Sunghoon is paying,” he said with a wink. Before she could react, the whole group hurried out of the store, leaving her standing there, blinking in surprise.

Moments later, Sunghoon appeared at the counter, his usual stoic expression in place. He handed her his card without a word.

Her hands felt a little shaky as she took it, swiping it through the machine. The silence between them felt heavy, almost awkward. She could feel her heart beating faster, though she couldn’t quite figure out why. As she handed his card back, Sunghoon spoke up, “So... when does your shift end?”

His question caught her off guard, and she almost fumbled with his card in surprise. “Uh, it ends later tonight,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady as she handed him back his card.

He nodded, the silence between them settling again as she finished ringing him up. When the receipt printed, he took it without a word and left, the bell above the door jingling once more as he disappeared into the night.

The rest of her shift passed uneventfully, but Sunghoon’s brief question kept playing over in her mind. She wasn’t sure why, but it left her feeling unsettled, a strange mix of anticipation and confusion curling in her chest.

As she finally closed up for the night, locking the door behind her, she stepped outside, breathing in the cool night air. But before she could take another step, her eyes caught sight of a familiar figure leaning against the wall near the store—Sunghoon.

Surprise flickered across her face. “You waited for me?” she asked, her voice soft with disbelief.

He pushed himself off the wall, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Figured I’d walk you home,” he said simply, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

She couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips, warmth spreading in her chest. “Thanks,” she murmured, falling into step beside him as they began the familiar walk home together. Neither of them spoke much, but the quiet between them felt comfortable, different from the silence at the store. This time, it wasn’t awkward—just... them.

And for the first time that night, she felt a strange sense of calm, knowing he was there.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

Sunghoon walked through the crowded halls of the school, his usual scowl firmly in place. The sound of shuffling feet and murmured conversations surrounded him, but none of the students dared meet his gaze as they passed by. Some even went as far as to move out of his way, heads down, whispering under their breath like he was a storm to avoid.

He was used to it by now—being the "troublemaker" on campus had that effect. But today, the weight of the stares seemed heavier than usual.

As he reached the lockers near the entrance, his ears caught the sound of a hushed conversation nearby. The voices weren’t meant to be overheard, but they were just loud enough for him to pick up bits and pieces.

“...Have you heard? Y/n’s been hanging around with him.”

“I know, right? She’s way too nice for someone like him. He’s bad news...”

“She doesn’t deserve that. What if he rubs off on her?”

Sunghoon stopped in his tracks, his jaw tightening as he listened. They didn’t even try to hide their judgment.

“She’s sweet. She shouldn’t be mixed up with a guy like him,” another voice chimed in.

His hand clenched into a fist by his side, but he resisted the urge to turn around and confront them. What would be the point? People had always made assumptions about him, and it seemed like no matter what he did, that wasn’t going to change. But now, it wasn’t just about him—it was about her. And that made something burn in his chest.

Letting out a huff of frustration, he stuffed his hands into his pockets, turning on his heel to walk out of the building. His footsteps echoed loudly against the floor as he pushed through the double doors, his mind racing with the words he had just overheard.

They think I’m bad for her? The thought gnawed at him. Part of him wanted to ignore it, brush it off like he always did. But this time was different. This time, it bothered him more than he cared to admit.

Because, despite his reputation and the way others looked at him, he cared about Y/n. And the last thing he wanted was for her to be caught in the crossfire of people’s judgments because of him. He clenched his jaw, replaying the whispers in his mind.

They don’t know her. They don’t know me.

With a heavy sigh, he stepped outside, feeling the cool air hit his face. He pulled the hood of his black hoodie over his head, trying to shake off the frustration that clung to him. The more he thought about it, the more their words stung, even though he didn’t want them to.

His pace quickened as he made his way down the steps, his thoughts clouded with doubt. He didn’t want to drag her down, but he also didn’t want to push her away. After all, they had gotten close in the past few weeks. For the first time in a long while, he had someone who saw him as more than just his reputation. Someone who didn’t flinch when she saw him, who wasn’t afraid to be around him.

But if staying close to her meant she’d have to deal with all the rumors and whispers... what then?

With his hands still deep in his pockets, he walked out of the school and into the garden, unsure of what he was supposed to do next. All he knew was that the idea of losing her, even as just a friend, felt worse than anything those students could ever say.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

Y/n strolled through the school’s garden, enjoying the calm of the late afternoon. The sunlight filtered through the trees, casting a warm glow on the path. As she rounded a corner, her eyes landed on a familiar figure standing by the old wooden bench. It was Sunghoon, and something about his posture caught her attention.

Her steps slowed as she approached, a frown forming on her face. The closer she got, the more she could see the new cuts and bruises marring his face. It was clear he had been in some sort of altercation recently, and the sight made her heart sink.

"Hey," she called out softly, trying to keep her voice steady. "Are you okay?"

Sunghoon didn’t turn to face her, his shoulders tense. He muttered, "I’m fine. Just go away."

The dismissiveness in his tone stung. Y/n hesitated for a moment, her worry overriding her instinct to back off. She stepped closer, her eyes searching his face. "You don’t look fine. What happened?"

He turned his head slightly, just enough to show his irritation. "I said I’m fine. It’s nothing."

The Y/n’s concern deepened, her eyes softening with empathy. She reached out a tentative hand, but he shrugged it off, a frustrated edge to his movements.

"Stop asking," he snapped, his voice harsh. "I don’t need you to worry about me."

The words were like a slap in the face. Y/n felt a mix of confusion and hurt. Why was he pushing her away like this? She couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t let her help, why he was so determined to shut her out.

"Please," she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper now. "Let me help."

But he was already turning away, storming off down the path with a heavy, deliberate pace. The back of his hoodie was the only thing she could see as he walked away, the anger and frustration radiating from his form.

Y/n stood there, rooted to the spot. The tranquil garden seemed to mock her as she watched him go. The gentle rustling of leaves felt distant, and the beauty of the afternoon was lost on her. Her heart ached, both for him and for the rift that was growing between them.

She wanted to chase after him, to bridge the gap he was so determined to create, but something held her back. She felt helpless and confused, the worry for him battling with the sting of his rejection. All she could do was watch as he disappeared into the distance, leaving her standing there with a sinking feeling in her chest.

She sighed heavily, her emotions a tangled mess. As the garden’s serenity settled back around her, she finally turned and walked away, her steps slow and heavy, her mind racing with unanswered questions.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

The clock on Y/n's bedside table ticked softly as she lay sprawled on her bed, scrolling through her phone. The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of her bedside lamp, creating a cozy, almost ethereal atmosphere. Her thumb paused over the screen as a new message notification popped up.

Curious, she tapped on the message from Sunghoon: 

"Can we meet at the park? I need to talk to you."

She hesitated for a moment, a flicker of worry crossing her face. Despite the late hour, something about the message made her heart race. Quickly, she threw on a white cardigan over her pajamas, the light fabric falling gracefully as she shrugged it on. Taking a deep breath, she headed out into the cool night air.

The park was a short walk away, and the streets were quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves. As she arrived, the park’s lone streetlamp cast a warm, golden glow over the pathway. Her eyes searched the area until they landed on Sunghoon, who was standing by the old wooden bench. The lamp illuminated his face, and he looked up as she approached.

The sight of her, framed by the soft light of the streetlamp, took his breath away. The white cardigan contrasted with her long, dark hair, giving her an almost angelic appearance. His heart ached as he saw her—beautiful, serene, and entirely too good for the mess he felt he had become.

When she reached him, he didn't say a word. Instead, he closed the distance between them and pulled her into a tight hug. The embrace was warm and comforting, and Y/n hesitated only for a moment before wrapping her arms around him in return.

"What's going on?" she asked softly, her voice muffled by his shoulder. "Why did you want to see me?"

Sunghoon buried his face in her hair, his voice barely audible as he mumbled, "I just... I needed to see you. I’m sorry for how I acted the other day. I was wrong to push you away."

The sincerity in his voice made her heart ache. She could feel the tension in his body, the regret in his touch. She held him a little tighter, her own feelings swirling—relief, concern, and an overwhelming sense of compassion.

"Why didn't you just tell me what was going on?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

He sighed, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. The shadows of the night danced across his face, but the vulnerability in his gaze was unmistakable. "I didn’t want to drag you into my problems. I thought it would be better if I handled it alone."

Y/n shook her head, her eyes filled with empathy. "You don’t have to go through things alone. I’m here for you, no matter what."

A faint smile touched his lips, a glimmer of hope breaking through his troubled expression. "I know now. I should have known better."

They stood there for a moment, the silence between them filled with unspoken words and emotions. The cool night air seemed to hold its breath as they embraced again, the world outside fading away.

"Thank you for coming," he said softly, his voice a gentle murmur.

She smiled up at him, her heart lighter despite the heavy conversation. "I’ll always come when you need me."

As they stood together under the streetlamp’s warm glow, it felt as though the night had woven a fragile thread of understanding and connection between them—one that would help mend the rift that had formed.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

MASTERLIST

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, lxvsiick, 2024

[f1fantasys]

uh this is so random idk if you would write this but i have an idea so you are Lando’s roommate. one day you came home early and you heard a girl moaning from his room and immediately feel jealous but you tried to brush it off. then as the voice is getting more intense eventually you lean beside his door and can’t help to start touching yourself. you didn’t realized that you moaned too loud that makes Lando opened the door. he is shocked ofc but then start teasing you until you pushed him away because you respect his girlfriend. and it turns out… he just watching videos so no girlfriend or anything. later he decided to help you and even makes you squirt then ended up fucking you against the wall

Hi anon, i love this! Hope you enjoy.

Caught

Warnings - heavy smut, porn, kissing, p in v sex, oral f! receiving, fingering, swearing, squirting.

You moved to Monaco a few weeks ago, being a Sky presenter, meaning you always had things to film and create with drivers and teams, so naturally, it made sense to live closer to everyones' base.

You had an amazing relationship with all the drivers, and were close to a few of them as well. Of course there had to be one, who'd caught your eyes on the first day of work 3 years ago.

Lando.

You wouldn't particularly say you were as close with him as you were with Charles and Carlos, but whenever you were together there was an undeniable sexual tension. Though you both would always brush it off and act like nothing was wrong.

Things were pretty normal between the pair of you until you'd arrived in Monaco, with your landlord telling you the apartment you were supposed to rent wasn't available anymore.

Long story short, Lando offered you a place to stay for as long as you needed, and you don't know how, or why, but you accepted.

So here you were two weeks later, coming home at an ungodly hour because your meeting at work ran over.

Lando's probably sleeping, you thought to yourself as it was already 12.35am when you checked the time, choosing not to make something to eat in fear of disturbing him at this time of the night.

As you walked quietly to your room, which was next to his, you heard something which froze your body still.

At first you thought your ears were deceiving you. It surely couldn't have been.

But as you willed your body to walk closer to Lando's room, you were done for.

It was moaning. Loud, sexy, goosebumps-raising moaning. There was a girl, and a guy, whom could have only been Lando.

To be honest, you had thought he'd bring random girls home much sooner than today. But still, the thought of him literally fucking a girl on the other side of the wall had your body quivering. In shock and need.

You knew you should retreat to your room, put your headphones on, and block out all of the noise. But once again, your body deceived you, wetness already pooling at your core.

You could hear them both panting through harsh breaths, moaning as if their life depended on it, and swearing as though they didn't care if the neighbors heard them, let alone you.

Somewhere at the back of your heart, it hurt, to think it was Lando with another girl, not you, but in the moment, all you could think about was how his naked body would slide against yours. You imagined his girth to be thick and long, just big enough to fit perfectly, having your walls clench around him as he moved in and out of you. You thought about how it would feel to have his lips on yours, roughly kissing you while slipping his tongue into your mouth, and about how he would pinch your nipples between his fingers before sucking on him, having you a moaning mess underneath him.

Without really realizing what you were doing, you found your hand slide into your joggers and slip past your panties, running your fingers through your folds as you collected you wet and sticky juices.

The noises coming from Lando's room were obscene to say the least. Man must know what he's doing, you thought, as you imagined it was his fingers that were dancing on your folds.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress your own moans as you pushed two fingers through your core, shutting your eyes, mind trained on listening to your surroundings.

You could hear from the girls' whimpers that she was close, saying incoherent words through gritted teeth, and when she finally hit her high, Lando must have emptied himself in her by the sounds he was making, moaning into the oblivion.

Lando's moan alone had sent you spiraling, gushing cum all over your fingers as you let out your own soft whimpers and moans, not realizing that you were actually louder than you thought.

And just as your mind caught up with just how loud you were, Lando's room door suddenly flew open, the both of you staring at each other in shock.

He was stood there wearing nothing but his boxers, hair disheveled and cheek flushed.

You quickly removed your hand form your joggers, holding both your arms behind your back as if you were hiding something, as you looked at him not knowing how to get yourself out of this situation. You wanted the ground to swallow you up.

You didn't miss how Lando's eyes darkened when you did that, and with the way your body was still riding down from the high, you held in soft quivers, opening your mouth a few times to say something though nothing came out.

''I-I, um, I-'' you started but Lando cut you off.

''What are you doing?'' he asked, not sounding one but annoyed or confrontational, but rather teasingly.

You gulped, 'nothing'' you lied, knowing your face would give you away with how hot your cheeks felt.

He smirked, let out a small chuckle. ''Enjoyed that, didn't you?'' he teased again.

''I-, fuck, I didn't mean to eavesdrop'' you mumbled shyly.

He didn't say anything back, just nodded his head with a full on boyish grin.

''I'm gonna go, let you get back to your girl'' you softly said, turning to the direction of your room.

''My-, what? My what?'' Lando asked, clear confusion on his face.

You raised your brow. ''I'll let you get back to your girl'' you said, pointing in the direction of his room, quickly hiding your hand again because your fingers were still glistening with your cum.

Finally it clicked in him. Did you really think he had a girl in there? he thought to himself. And fuck, seeing your wet fingers had him growing hard.

He chuckled again, smirking, before he grabbed your hand and pulled you into his room, shutting the door behind you and placing his hands on both sides of your face, staring into your soul.

You both stayed silent, searching each others face until soft moans filled your ears again. Your eyes grew with shock when you looked past Lando and saw his laptop on the bed, facing you, with two people fucking each other taking up the screen.

Suddenly it dawned on you. He was watching porn, not fucking anyone.

You took a deep breath again when you looked back at Lando. His gaze stern and determined. And then he did the unimaginable. He took you hand in his and brought your fingers up to his mouth, taking them in and sucking harshly on them, swallowing all your juices.

All you could do was watch with your mouth agape, pussy clenching around nothing, desperate to feel him down there.

''It wasn't me babygirl. But it can be if you want it to'' he whispered.

Your breath hitched as his hands landed on your waist and started roaming your body. Instinctively, you wrapped your hands around his neck, and in no time he leaned down to crash his lips to yours.

It was a feverish kiss. Hard and deep but so natural as if you'd kissed a thousand times before. Your mind went back to a few minutes ago to when you were standing outside his closed door, imagining what his lips felt like, and now you could confirm it was a hundred times better, a hundred times sexier, as he slid his tongue into your mouth and memorized every inch of it.

Your hands ran through his hair multiple times before lowering down to roam his back and taunt core muscles, instantly feeling your self aroused again at how hard his muscles were to the touch. It was something you found extremely sexy.

As Lando's own hands continued to dance around your body, he let one slip through your joggers, landing instantly on your core which had you jumping in his hold.

''Gonna take care of you baby'' he said before leaving wet kisses along your neck as his calloused fingers twirled their way through your slick folds.

You moaned out as he began to nip and bite at your neck, no coherent words forming in your mind. All you knew was how good he felt.

''So wet for me, yeah?'' he asked.

''Uh huh'' you replied, shutting your eyes as he let a finger push through you entrance.

You held your breath as he pumped it in and out with ease because of how wet you were.

''Fucking hell, you're so tight'' he said through gritted teeth, using his other hand to get past your tshirt and massage your boobs.

''Been a while'' you said, though immediately regretted it because he did not need to know that.

Suddenly he pulled back and looked at you. ''No'' he states.

''Yes'' you say back.

''How long?''

Does it matter? you thought to yourself.

''I don't know, like 3 month'' you said, not knowing how he would respond.

''Fuck'' he said, before sending you a wink.

''Gonna destroy you'' he said, mumbling it more to himself.

He quickly pulled your tshirt off of you before ripping your bra off, licking his lips at the sight of your perky boobs, nipples already stiff from the cool air.

He took way too long staring at them, and only when you whined did he snap out of his trance and sink down on on his knees, pulling your joggers down at the same time.

You mentally thanked yourself for shaving this morning as you looked down to see Lando licking his lips, before leaning down and licking a strip up your cunt.

You instinctively tried to close you legs around his head through he held them open with his strong hands, and you could do nothing but let your own hands latch onto his precious hair and pull it at.

He was devouring your pussy. Licking, sucking, soothing, nipping, doing everything possible to make you feel every emotion.

''Fuck Lando'' you hissed as he quickly found your clit, biting at it harshly before pulling back and blowing some cool air on it.

He returned his fingers and slid two in, hitching your breath in the process as he let his mouth back on as well, showing you no mercy with a relentless pace.

All you could do was let out a series of moans and bated breaths as you held onto him for dear life, feeling the warmth build up in your stomach.

''Gonna cum Lan'' you said.

He pulled back for a second, ''let me taste you again'' he said, before returning to his activities.

In no time your body was shuddering above hi, your orgasm letting you reach the best high as you gushed your fluids all over his face and fingers.

Lando groaned to himself when he go the first taste of you. Warm and milky with a salty aftertaste that had him grow extremely hard with the mix of hearing and feeling you.

He finally pulled back for a few seconds, letting your body calm down.

He looked at you with soft eyes. ''So fucking delicious baby'' he murmured.

Before you could even respond he was spreading your legs apart again, as far as he could as he ran his tongue through your fold again. Then he used to fingers to pry your pussy open, leaning forward and thrusting his tongue in and out of your core.

Once again you pulled at his hair, body like jelly though he was strong enough to hold you in position as his tongue did wonders to you.

''Hmm, not gonna last long, fuck, Lando please'' you begged.

Suddenly his tongue was being replaced with his fingers again, three this time, which stretched you out, making you gasp for air.

You could feel your next orgasm building up, and just when Lando curled his fingers to hit your g-spot, your body was in a state of bliss. You didn't even know that your cunt was squirting out juices, drenching Lando's face as he smiled wickedly at the mess he's made of you.

''I-fuck Lando!'' you all but screamed, watching as he started licking at every place you gushed over.

You tried to get out of his hold so you could bolt to you room, so embarrassed that you made such a mess on him. ''Lando, let me -I''m so sorry, fuck'' you mumbled.

But he stopped you in your tracks.

''Don't. That was so fucking amazing, fuck I''m so hard'' he said, quickly standing up again and roughly pulling you into a heated kiss, while still holding your body up. You were sure you'd be on the floor by now if he wasn't.

As his face was pressed your yours you could feel the slickness and stickiness rubbing off on to you as he continued to roughly make out with you, sucking on your tongue, probably drawing blood with how intense it was.

When Lando' hands reached down and massaged your ass, giving you a few gentle slaps, you snaked your own hand down and slipped through his joggers, taking his achingly thick girth and pumping him a few times.

When you felt how big he was, you were internally screaming. How the hell is he gonna fit, you thought.

He must have sensed your hesitation because without realizing, your movements with your hands and mouth were faltering.

''Gonna be ok baby, we'll make it work'' he said, pulling back and giving you reassuring eyes.

You just nodded your head and pulled him flush against you again, working on removing his boxers completely.

Once that was done, Lando took himself in his hands and raan his angry dick through your folds multiple times before groaning and pulling back.

''Shit'' he said.

You gave him a confused look, suddenly feeling exposed because why else would he pull away if this was something he didn't want?

''Don't have a fucking condom'' he sighed.

You let out a breath and chuckled. ''Top right drawer of my dresser'' you said confidently.

Lando was quick to shoot out of his room and not a minute later he was walking back in, pumping himself as he ripped the condom wrapper open with his teeth before sliding it on himself. It was tight, anyone would be able to see that with how bigger than average he was. But for now, it would do the job, hopefully.

You watched on in anticipation, really took you time to gawk him up and down and you couldn't help but feel the blood rushing down to your core. He was so fucking hot, and right now you wanted him to ruin you. Use you as he pleased, because god you were putty in his hands right now.

Once he was done putting the condom on, he looked at you and gave you a cheeky smile, as if he was proud of his efforts.

That lasted all but a few seconds because the smile was quickly replaced by a dark lust in his eyes.

As eager as you were to finally have him in ways you'd only dreamed about until now, there was still a part of you that was nervous as hell because, one, he was thick, very thick, and two, this would change everything, and you only hoped it would be for the better.

Lando cupped your face again and gave your forehead a quick peck, as if he could see the wheels turning in your mind.

''Baby'' he whispered, as he lined his dick up at your entrance.

You nodded, and he let himself slide in, all the way in with a single thrust.

You held your breath and shut your eyes, nails digging into his biceps as Lando left little pecks all over your shoulders.

The stretch was blood sore, but as he pulled out and thrust back in again, the pleasure started to take over the pain.

He was going slow, allowing your body to get used to the intrusion as he hiked one of your legs up to his hip and held it in place.

He continued at a slow pace for a few more thrusts before you told him it was okay to go faster.

Now, Lando was relentless, fucking into you continuously as all you did was bite you lower lip as hard as you good, whimpers and broken breaths leaving your mouth.

Lando himself was letting out moans, praising you through gritted teeth.

''Fuck y/n, so fucking tight but taking me so well. Shit. Never felt this good before. Fuck me you're incredible''

You won't lie. Hearing his praise you like that was turning you on even more, though it seemed impossible at this point. But just listening to his hoarse voice had your body trembling in his arms.

''Lando, gonna cum. Fuck'' you breathed out, moans getting louder by the second as he was burying himself deep inside of you.

''Do it'' he mumbled as he caught your left nipple between his teeth and bit down harshly at it.

''Fuck too much'' you squealed. You could feel him smile against you as he soothed his tongue over and blew on it to relieve it.

Lando snaked his hand down to your clit, he had barely touched it and you felt your orgasm over come you, your body shaking violently in his arms as you gushed warm sticky juice all over his cock, having him groaning at ''how fucking sexy'' you are.

He gave you no time to come down from you high, immediately pulling out and turning your body around so your back was to him.

You just about fumbled as you quickly reached your hand down and pulled the condom off, desperate to feel him. His eyes grew wide but all you did was send him a wink as you heard him mutter a few swear words to himself.

You grabbed his dick again and positioned it against you again, before Lando rammed himself into you, the new position having him go even deeper than he was before, making it feel a thousand times better without the condom.

''Fuck me, Lando, fuck'' you moaned, probably the most pornographic noises you'd ever made before.

''I am fucking you baby. And you're taking me so well. Never felt so fucking good before'' he said, nuzzling his nose into your neck.

The pace was raw, unfiltered, as if you were both starved of each other. Lando's hands were surely leaving purple marks on your hips how hard he was pressing down on you, and his cock was surely bruising your insides as he relentlessly thrust in and out of you until you were a moaning mess again, body shuddering in the wake of another orgasm ripping through you.

''Fuck, i'm gonna cum. Where?'' he impatiently asked.

''In me, fuck, please'' you begged.

Within seconds Lando emptied his milky load into you, ropes of it already leaking out and down your thigh as he slowly decreased his pace to ride you both through, both your bodies shaking and overstimulated, high of adrenaline.

Lando leaned forward onto you, squeezing you between his body and the door as your mind tried to catch up to what just happened.

His head was in your neck, and you could feel his curls sticky with sweat as his cool breath left goosebumps on your skin due to the chill of your own sweat.

Neither of you said anything for a while, just basking in each others bodies as you tried to catch your breath.

You could feel Lando softening inside of you as he started leaving wet kisses along your shoulders and back.

His hand found yours, and you both hissed as he slowly pulled out, turning your body back to face him.

He gave you a sheepish smile, cheeks flushed as you bit down on your bottom lip, not knowing what was gonna come next.

Lando tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as he leaned forward to kiss you gently.

''You're so fucking amazing y/n, and I've waited way too fucking long to do this''

''We...waited too long to that'' you said, emphasizing on the ''we''

Suddenly you saw Lando getting to his knees again, and as much as you couldn't wait fro more from him, you were fucking sore.

''Lan, too much'' you whispered, latching onto his hair.

''I know'' he said softly as he let his tongue run through your folds, collecting the mixture of cum before he got back up and pryed your mouth open.

You held your breath as he let the cum drip from his mouth down to yours before giving you a feverish, toe curling kiss, the both of you moaning at the taste of each other.

A few minutes later, and Lando, being the gentleman he is, cleaned you up and pulled you into his bed, your body curling at his side.

''So...goes without saying, but be my girlfriend? I mean, you're already living with me..and I've already made you squirt'' he smirked

You felt your cheeks flush, ''Ug Lando!'' you couldn't help but try to hide your face until he pulled your body to lay on top of his.

''And it was the hottest thing I've ever seen'' he said, smiling genuinely.

''Yes'' you said softly.

''Yeah?'' he asked, eyes growing wide and full of excitement.

''Yeah'' you said, leaning down to kiss him for the hundredth time today, feeling his hands on your ass giving you a few playful smacks.

Hope y’all enjoyed this! Please do leave comments and remember requests are always open xx

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Ok, I don't really post here, but there's a Merlin AU idea that's been rattling around in my skull like it's a pinball machine and I need to get it out, so here we go:

Imagine an AU where Balinor doesn't die and banishes Kilgarrah before sneaking away so Uther doesn't catch him and can't put his newfound son in danger. Of course, both he and Merlin are heartbroken about having to be separated again after just finding each other, but they work out a way to keep in touch and occasionally meet in secret.

And this is all well and good, and everything in the show just kinda proceeds as normal up until about season 4, where we have the knights of the round table well-established in Camelot.

It'd make sense that after a few years of travelling around with Kilgarrah, Balinor would be pretty well-known and well-feared throughout all the five kingdoms as "that dragonlord who escaped the purge and now travels around on the back of a giant dragon", and people all over Albion are kinda terrified of the guy.

Rumors say that he never smiles, that he can kill a man in a split second without even utterring a spell, and can decimate kingdoms with the dragon under his total command. That makes for a formidable figure!

And then one day, Balinor is trying to sneak into Camelot to visit his son (he heard Merlin got hit by a dorocha and wants to make sure he's ok!), and the knights see him and freak out because holy shit that's one of the deadliest guys in Albion!

They're in a tense standoff, with Balinor threatening to call down the dragon on them if they don't let him through. The knights are all ready to give their lives to at least buy the people in the castle time to evacuate, when suddenly Merlin and Arthur make it to the standoff. Arthur immediately starts strategizing with his knights on how they're going to negociate with the sorcerer in an attempt to make sure that they aren't all slaughtered.

Meanwhile, Merlin just laughs and pushes through the rows of knights blocking Balinor's path to the castle. The knights, being very fond of Merlin and not wanting to see their kind little friend be brutally murdered by one of the most terrifying men in exsistence, are trying to grab Merlin and pull him back to safety or shouting at him to get back, but Merlin manages to avoid them as he walks up to Balinor.

For a horrifying moment, the knights and Arthur think that Merlin is about to sacrifice himself for them, but Merlin breaks into a huge grin, yells "Dad!", and runs right into Balinor's arms.

(Merlin and Balinor reason that now that Arthur's king, they might as well start easing him into some of Merlin's less shocking secrets)

And even more shockingly to the knights, Balinor hugs him back, asking Merlin all about how he's been doing, how are his studies under Gaius, etc etc.

And all of the knights just bluescreen. Because the math isn't mathing on this one. Hunith + Balinor = MERLIN?! Does not compute.

They're all pondering how could someone as joyful, friendly, and kind as Merlin be the spawn of a terrifying man like Balinor?? They just cannot comprehend it. The manservant who they all know and love came from this sorcerer who's name is synonymous with the threat of death and destruction??

They're all jolted back to reality however when Balinor asks Merlin if he wants to come back to Balinor's newly-renovated stronghold in the mountains (that's only accessable by riding a dragon) to learn more about one day becoming a dragonlord. And suddenly, the knight understand why Balinor's here. He wants to kidnap Merlin from them and twist him into a terrifying sorcerer to carry on Balinor's legacy!

It all basically dissolves into a long game of high-stakes tug-of-war between Balinor and the knights + Arthur, and Merlin's just enjoying spending time with his father and his friends.

Balinor will just casually crash one of their quests while riding Kilgarrah and "kidnap" Merlin while the knights fight to keep Merlin with them.

Balinor eventually gives Merlin Aithusa so he can get practice raising dragons, and the knights see it as some evil scheme to make Merlin betray Camelot and attack it from within, but damn it Merlin's already adopted the damn thing so now they're stuck with a baby dragon.

IDK if I'd ever write a fic about it since I'm pretty busy writing another fic rn, but I thought that it was a funny idea to throw out there!

PS: if anyone wants to read my current project, where I'm giving Sir Leon more anxiety with each chapter after a kinda-botched magic reveal on Merlin's part (and Merlin may or may not be an eldritch god), feel free to check it out here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54027337/chapters/136771564

Thank you all for sticking with my incoherent rambling! :D I hope you have a great day/night!

Also, please let me know if you guys wants to hear more of the ideas that pinball around in my head!

[valentinedagger]

when i was a child, once it had become obvious that spanking was considered gauche and extreme among their early-2000s drum-circle-attending hippie friends, my parents moved to a new default punishment: standing in the corner.

it was very simple. when told, i was to stand facing the corner, not moving, until i was told i could stop. in retrospect, the standard seemed to be to leave me until i had entirely stopped crying, then to start counting down some short, arbitrary block of time (maybe 5, 10 minutes) once i was silent and still. at the time, i didn't know this; the corner was a limbo state, it was a place i was suspended indefinitely til my parents considered me appropriate to deal with once again.

i wasn't to fidget, to sit down, make noises, sing or talk to myself. theoretically, i was supposed to "reflect on what i did wrong," although that never happened. i was, what, five? six?

frequently, i would get a cold, nauseating sensation that crept its way up my back. i would feel stiff and tense, the muscles in my neck and shoulders growing rigid, goosebumps prickling. i would feel as though i was being watched. i would sneak a peak over my shoulder at those times; when i saw i was alone, i would shift and stand on one foot for a bit, then the other, in order to take the weight off the other and ease some of my aches. sometimes i would start whispering to an imaginary friend, or lean against the wall. anything i knew i was not allowed to do, that i could immediately stop when i heard one of my parents approaching.

one specific time, i got that sensation. the creeping dread, the deep bonesickness of feeling watched. i snuck a peek over my shoulder.

my father had crept into my room, and was watching me silently.

"face the corner," he said.

i did.

almost as an afterthought, he told me i had earned myself more time.

the horror this evokes in me can't be described; it's a sheer, yawning precipice of paranoia, buttressed by the casual, uncaring authority of a parent-god, the architect of the childhood panopticon so utterly foreign, so removed from your world, that they not only do not, but cannot comprehend the pain and fear they're inflicting on you. my feet hurt. my legs hurt. my back ached. i was itchy and damp, utterly helpless, bound by rules i didn't understand and at the mercy of beings whose feelings and responses were utterly unpredictable and incomprehensible.

my father wanted to go play a video game.

i write a lot of horror that i don't think most people would automatically classify as "horror." most of it is an attempt to capture this feeling: the shaky, racing terror of survival without knowing the rules, the stakes, even the consequences. the understanding that anything could be a wrong move, that self-preservation can be punished. or it can be rewarded. or it can go entirely ignored. i want to capture that nauseating, paranoid dread and bottle it. every room is an escape room, the win conditions are up to the gamemaster, and he will change them. he always changes them.

maybe he's watching. maybe he went to the bathroom. maybe he forgot about you. you could always try looking over your shoulder to see.

[rainydaydreamsideblog]

(The Maze Runner) Imagine: He Protects You

It can be dangerous, especially for the only girl in the Glade.

Warnings: Guys being creeps in the Glade (nothing graphic), bullying, the Maze, danger.

. . .Thomas. . .

It’s a beautiful evening in the Glade.  You’re walking straight along the treeline on your way to run a final errand for Alby at the end of the day.  The sun is no longer visible, as it already descended far enough to be blocked by the walls.

Suddenly, you get the creeps.  It was hard to explain, but you feel goosebumps bloom along your skin, and you get the distinct feeling that you’re not alone.  The lovely glow of the bonfire is in your field of vision, but it’s so far away. It’s where most of the guys are gathered.  You can hear their distant whoops and hollers, reminding you that help is far away too.

A twig snaps, and your suspicions are confirmed.  There’s a figure following several feet behind you, lurking in the shadows cast from the trees above.

So, you veer off your original path to draw closer to the homestead where there would hopefully be someone who hadn’t made it to the bonfire yet.  Whoever it was must have caught on to what you were doing because they instantly pick up their pace.  You begin to hurry, increasing your speed so that they can’t catch you before you make it to what you hope will be a haven of safety.

Your heart is pounding, and your chest heaving with panicked breaths as you finally make it to the homestead.  

“Hello?” you call frantically.  

Suddenly, Thomas appears.  He sees your nervous state immediately, his hand taking yours.  But then his eyes lock onto something behind you, and he moves right past you to intercept your pursuer, effectively blocking them from you.

“What’s going on?” he demands.  Your follower is frozen to the spot, stuttering, failing miserably to offer up some sort of explanation.  Thomas steps forward, towering over the guy.  It’s plain to see that he is furious.  His forearms flex and his jaw is clenched.  You can hear his angry breaths as he speaks again.  “That’s what I thought.  Now, get out of here.”

As soon as the guy is gone, Thomas turns around to face you.  His close presence eases your fearful state when he steps into your space, filling your nose with his scent. “You okay?” he asks gently.

You manage a nod.

“We’re going to tell Alby right away.  This isn’t going to happen to you again.  Come here…” He carefully pulls you into his arms for an embrace, as if you’ll break apart if he’s too sudden. You bury your face in his chest, breathing a sigh of relief.  His heartbeat is close to your ears, like a lullaby.

“Thank you…” you whispered.

. . . Newt . . .

You couldn’t take it anymore.

The teasing, the taunts… The inability of certain individuals to just leave you alone.  Ever since you’d rejected him, Allan had made it his life’s mission to make your existence in the Glade all the more difficult.

Most recently, he had purposely bumped into you at lunchtime so that your meal was spilled all over your clothes and onto the ground.  Resources were limited in the Glade.  It was understood that wastefulness wouldn’t be tolerated.  You couldn’t afford to lose food or have clothing ruined.  Fortunately, your clothes would be fine after a wash, but the discarded food was a different story.

You dab at your tank top with a washcloth and pause to look at your reflection in the mirror.  It was all too easy to recall how quickly you’d reached your limit after Allan’s ridiculous ploy.  Your face is still wet from crying, eyes puffy, and lips parted as you took deep breaths.

There’s no use crying over spilled milk, you thought. Or in my case, spilled lunch.

After composing yourself, you decide it’s time to go back out there and face the music. You toss the damp rag aside and march determinedly out of the empty washroom.  To your surprise, you smack right into another individual coming in.  You instantly recognize the blonde hair and grumbles of complaint as he reels from the collision.

“Oi, shank, watch where you’re going-”  Newt quickly realizes it’s you and clamps his mouth shut, extending his hands to each of your shoulders to steady you gently.  He takes in the sight of your tear-stained face with his eyes showing clear concern.  “Hey, what’s gotten into you?”

“Oh, just… Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Newt looks far from convinced, and you lower your gaze.  He’s about to inquire further, but a familiar voice sounds from outside the washroom.

“Hey, _______!” Allan calls tauntingly, making you freeze up.  “How’s it going in there?”

Newt’s eyes instantly flash, and his face scrunches up anger.  You can hardly believe it when Allan continues.

“Sorry about my clumsiness earlier.  Maybe I can make it up to you.  Come on out before I go in there!”

Newt can’t contain himself anymore.  He turns on his heel and heads out of the washroom, and you follow behind just to see the look on Allan’s face when he realizes he’s been caught.

It is so worth it.  Allan’s stupid grin falls hard into a look of horror as the Second-in-Command approaches him furiously.  He doesn’t lay a hand on him, but he looks like he’s awfully close when he jabs a pointer finger in his direction.

“If I ever catch you bothering her, or even breathing in her general direction again, you’ll be a permanent Slopper for the rest of your time here in the Glade.  Do you understand, shank?”

Allan nods quickly, and doesn’t even wait to be dismissed.  He just hurries away, leaving you and Newt both standing there watching him flee.

“Coward,” he mumbles.  Then, Newt turns to you, resting a hand on your arm in a comforting gesture.  “I mean it, you know.  He’ll never bother you again.”

. . . Minho . . .

It’s hard not to panic when you glance up and can no longer see the sun above you. It’s the end of the day, and you’re nearly out of time.  The lightning pain that shoots through your ankle suddenly just becomes too much.  You lean against one of the ivy-covered walls and exhale.

“I don’t think I’m going to make it,” you say aloud, and the words weigh heavily on you.  You mentally scold yourself.  You can’t afford to think that way.  A Runner knows better.  With a wince, you continue limping on your way.  It’s not that the exit from the Maze isn’t close.  If memory serves you right (which it did), it wasn’t too far at all… but at your pace, it would take a lot of effort and some good luck to get you back in time.

Just when you are about to give up again, you hear footsteps rapidly approaching.  Your first thought is that perhaps your cowardly companion had a change of heart, but the footsteps didn’t match.

“Hello?” you call.

“_________!” Minho’s voice responds, and your heart swells with hope.  You aren’t out of the woods just yet, but your chances were much better with help. Minho nearly slides to a stop in front of you, instantly taking your arm and putting it around his broad shoulders to help you up.  There is no time to stop and compare notes, so you update him as he begins helping you back along the path.

“I sprained my ankle.” You hold onto Minho like he’s your lifeline as you push through the pain to keep up with his pace.  He’s right to go so fast.  Time is running out.

“Where’s Derek?” he asks with a grunt.

“He…he left me,” you gasp in pain.  “I think he was worried he wouldn’t make it out in time if he helped me.”

Minho goes quiet for a moment, and you can practically feel the anger rolling off him in waves.  His eyes are focused straight ahead at the path, and he huffs.  Finally, he bites out a sarcastic comment. “I think it’s safe to say that he’s getting demoted from being a Runner.”

You keep talking, trying to distract the both of you from the familiar groan of the Maze walls shifting.  “Why did you come out here?”

“Because it was getting late in the day, and no one had seen you,” he pants.  “Usually, you check in with me right away.  I knew something had to be wrong.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.”

You continue limping with all your might toward the gate, feeling your heart jump, as the walls on either side begin their agonizingly slow crawl to a close.  There’s a small group standing on the other side, ushering you both out anxiously.  It was mostly Keepers, a select few who had been informed of the problem by Minho.

The two of you fell onto the green grass, gasping for breath, while the others surrounded you.  Alby knelt down beside you, resting a hand on your shoulder.  You just let yourself breathe, tears welling up in your eyes from relief.

“So it’s true?” Gally questioned, brows raised.  “Derek left her in there.” “Yes,” Minho replied, sitting up.  “And he will face the consequences.”  He looked over at you, finally catching his breath.  “You’re safe now.”

. . . Gally . . .

James had been haunting your steps for far too long.  He was always there, always hanging around, and sometimes showing up at the most alarming of instances.  What could be done about it?  It wasn’t as if he’d taken severe enough action to warrant disciplinary measures, you thought.  He was only ever seen staring at you, smirking, and just being an all-around jerk at times.

This time, he’d snatched your tools away from your working station while your back was turned. After uncovering a particularly tough old root, you turned around to get a spade to chop it up, only to see that your things were gone.

A few laughs caught your attention, and you glanced over to see James and one of his shadows standing there, staring at you from several feet away.  You couldn’t say for certain, but it seemed like they had something to do with your missing tools.

So, now you’re debating with yourself on the best course of action.  Do you ignore him and try to rustle up some extra tools from Newt or Zart?  Or do you bother to give this shank the attention he’s so desperately seeking to get your stuff back?

You don’t really like the latter option.  Frankly, James gives you the creeps. The last thing you want is to play his little game… But every minute that you spend deliberating is wasted time that could be put towards helping the Glade.

As much as you despise indulging him, you find yourself marching right over to his work area.  Both James and his minion are laughing in amusement, shoving each other at the sight of you approaching.

“Do you know where my tools went?” you ask, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“I might,” James replies cryptically.  “And I might be willing to strike up a bargain for that information.”

You fold your arms across your chest.  “What could you possibly want?”

“Ohh, I don’t know…Perhaps a kiss will do.”

You make a face as the disgust hits you.  “Seriously?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?”

“Yeah, that’s going to be a ‘no’ for me.”  You wave off the concept, turning around.  You decided that your best bet is to find some spare tools.  This just wasn’t worth all the trouble.  Just as you start to leave, James comes running around to block you.

“Hey now, I didn’t say you could go.”

“Yeah, you might want to think about his offer,” James’ lackey said from behind you.  The two of them close in, and you clench your fists in preparation to fight.  If you make enough commotion, you’re sure that someone will notice and come to your aid.

You give him one last chance.  “Let me pass.”

“Come on, just one kiss.  Unless you want more than one after that-” to your relief, James is cut off by a new voice interjecting.

“What’s going on here?” The three of you turn to see Gally standing there, sweating from whatever project he was working on,with dirt and wood shavings on his clothes.  His expression looks expectant as he waits for an explanation, though his tall and bulky form makes him appear positively dangerous as he stares the two guys down with his hands resting on his hips.

“I, uh.. We…”  They break off in stutters and fumbled words.

“I’m fairly certain they have my tools,” you say, and Gally’s famous arched brows raise at the two guys in disbelief.

“Is that so?” As Gally walks forward, he plants his palms harshly on James’ shoulder, shoving him clear out of the way. James stumbles unceremoniously, almost falling straight into the grass.  Gally walks over to the bench and pauses.  He picks up a bundle of leather and tosses it to you, the tools rattling inside.  “Are those yours?”

You recognize it immediately.  “Yes, these are the ones.”

“You shanks had better never even speak to her again.  Understand?” He stares at each of them pointedly with all the authority of a Keeper, and they both nod.  With that, Gally walks up to you and ushers you away with a warm, gentle hand on your back protectively.

“Your timing was impeccable,” you say quietly.  “Thank you.”

“They won’t bother you again.  I’ll make sure of it.”

“I think you already have,” you chuckle.

[pucksandpower]

Ours to Protect

Charles Leclerc x Reader x Max Verstappen

Summary: life with your boys may be chaotic but, through all the ups and downs, you wouldn’t change it for the world

Warnings: depictions of injury, vague descriptions of pregnancy, and Jos Verstappen being Jos Verstappen

You take a deep breath as you step out of the car, the roar of the crowd already audible even from the secure paddock parking area.

Your stomach flutters with nerves and excitement as you smooth down your outfit and head towards the paddock entrance. This is your first race of the season and the reporters and fans are always rabid at the start of a new year.

As you enter the paddock you glance around, looking for Charles or Max but neither are immediately visible in the organized chaos. You clutch your paddock pass, suddenly feeling self-conscious walking through alone.

The other drivers’ wives and girlfriends are already gathered in small groups, greeting each other with cheek kisses as they exchange pleasantries. A few give you sidelong glances as you walk by, no doubt wondering why you’re alone when the rest of them arrived together with their partners.

You keep your head high, ignoring the looks. Your relationship with Charles and Max has been going strong and so far you’ve kept it private, with only close friends and family aware that the three of you are together. The public and the media still think of you as just a friend and you aren’t sure how they would react if they knew the truth. The three of you have discussed going public but agreed it’s better to wait, wanting to enjoy your time together out of the spotlight for now.

Still, you wish Charles or Max were with you as a buffer from prying eyes. You check your phone but there are no new messages. They must both still be busy with their pre-race preparations. Taking a deep breath, you make your way towards the Red Bull garage first, figuring you’ll find Max there.

As you approach, you spot a small crowd of reporters loitering near the garage entrance. They perk up as they see you coming, immediately descending upon you with microphones and cameras.

“Y/N! Over here!” One calls out. “Are you here to see Max?”

You stop short, feeling cornered as they form a semi-circle around you. “Um, yes, I’m just heading to the garage to say hi,” you say carefully.

“And what about Charles?” Another reporter asks, eyebrow raised suggestively. “Will you be visiting him in the Ferrari garage as well?”

You freeze, panic rising. Do they know about your relationship? You haven’t been seen together in public yet. “I-I’m friends with both Charles and Max,” you stammer.

“Just friends?” A third reporter chimes in skeptically. “Our sources say you’ve been getting very cozy with the two drivers lately. Care to comment on the rumors that you’re stringing them both along?”

You take a step back, heart pounding as their questions come rapid-fire.

“Are you cheating on one with the other?”

“How long do you think you can keep this charade going before they realize?”

“Doesn’t it bother you, playing with their feelings like this?”

Their accusations hit you like blows, your anxiety spiking as you find yourself backed up against a wall, cameras flashing in your face. This is your worst fear come to life. You look around desperately for an escape but find only unsympathetic faces staring back at you, judging you.

“I … I have to go,” you gasp out, ducking your head and pushing your way blindly through the crush of bodies. You can hear them calling out more questions but you block it out, focused only on getting away. You’re shaking and feel sick, tears pricking at your eyes.

Is this what it will be like if you ever go public? This is exactly why you wanted to keep it quiet.

Suddenly you collide with a solid chest. Strong hands grasp your shoulders and you look up with a start to see Max gazing down at you, concern creasing his brow.

“Whoa, schatje, what happened?” He asks. He glances over your shoulder at the reporters who have reluctantly backed off but are still hovering nearby. Max’s jaw tightens as he seems to grasp the situation.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” you say shakily, embarrassed by your reaction.

Max studies your face, clearly unconvinced. “Come on, let’s get you out of here,” he says gently, keeping an arm wrapped securely around you as he guides you away from prying eyes.

Once you’re safely inside the Red Bull motorhome, Max steers you over to a quiet corner and helps you sit. Crouching down in front of you, he brushes a strand of hair back from your face. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

You take a shuddering breath, willing yourself to calm down. “The reporters ambushed me outside. They started accusing me of stringing you and Charles along. I just panicked and had to get out of there.”

Max’s face darkens. “Those goddamn vultures. What the hell gives them the right ...” He cuts off his tirade with a sigh, taking your hands in his. “I’m so sorry you had to deal with that alone. I should have been there with you.”

You give him a shaky smile. “It’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

Max kisses your forehead. “Let me go talk to Charlie so he knows what happened. I’ll be right back, okay?”

You nod gratefully. After Max leaves you take deep breaths, willing your racing heart to settle. You knew the secrecy couldn’t last forever but you weren’t prepared for the cruelty of those reporters. The idea of having to face that regularly if you go public makes you feel ill.

You’re lost in thought when another familiar voice says your name. Looking up you see Charles hurrying over, the same concerned look on his face that Max wore earlier. You stand and Charles immediately folds you into a tight hug.

“Are you alright, ma belle?” He murmurs. “Max told me what happened.”

You cling to him, taking comfort in his embrace. “I’m okay now. Just a bit shaken up.”

Charles’ jaw is tight as he pulls back to look at you. “I’m so sorry I was not there. I should have been with you.” His hand comes up to cup your cheek tenderly.

You cover his hand with your own. “You couldn’t have known. I’m the one who decided to come alone like an idiot.”

Charles starts to argue but you cut him off. “Let’s not play the blame game, okay? I just want to put it behind me.”

Charles presses his lips together but nods. “Of course. As long as you are alright.” He kisses your forehead sweetly. “I will not leave your side for the rest of the day, I promise.”

You give him a small but genuine smile. “Thank you.”

Just then Max returns. “How is she doing?” He asks Charles quietly.

“A bit better I think. Still shaken though.”

Max nods, his eyes stormy. “I warned the press to back the hell off but I doubt they’ll listen.”

Your heart sinks. The last thing you want is them continuing to hound you every race. You bite your lip. “Maybe … maybe we should just tell them the truth.”

Max and Charles exchange a surprised look. “Are you sure?” Charles asks cautiously. “We do not have to do anything until you are ready.”

You take a breath. “I’m not really. But I don’t want to have to look over my shoulder constantly either, you know? And I hate feeling like we have to hide.” You look between them. “I mean, only if you both are comfortable with it too. But maybe it’s time.”

Max considers you thoughtfully. “I’m ready when you are. I’m tired of sneaking around too. If this is what you want, I’m with you.” He glances at Charles who nods.

“Oui, I agree. I do not enjoy the secrecy either. I am ready to tell the world you are both mine.” Charles smiles and pulls you close again.

You let out a shaky laugh. “Well it’s definitely not going to be easy, but with you two by my side, I’m ready.” You take each of their hands, feeling emboldened.

Charles grins and kisses your cheek. “Then let’s do this.”

The three of you head out of the garage hand in hand. You hold your head high as you approach the still lingering reporters, flanked on either side by your boys. Their steady presence gives you courage.

The reporters perk up excitedly seeing the three of you together, shouting questions, but you ignore them. At an unspoken signal you all stop and turn to face the cameras head on.

Charles leans in and kisses you sweetly, then Max does the same, before kissing each other with you sandwiched firmly between them. You smile against their lips, the action speaking louder than any words. Then, without giving the reporters time to process what just happened, you continue walking down the paddock, leaving behind an audience with their jaws on the floor.

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face as their shocked reactions fade behind you. Let them talk. You have everything you need right here. Wrapping your arms around your boys, you head off to face the rest of the day, and your future, together.

No more hiding. The world knows now. And you’ve never felt more free.

***

The morning sun filters in through the curtains, stirring you awake. You stretch leisurely, reaching across both sides of the large bed only to find it empty. The faint clinking of dishes filters in from outside the room — your boys must be up already making breakfast.

Smiling sleepily, you drag yourself out of bed and shuffle towards the kitchen, eager for coffee. As you enter, you find Charles at the stove scrambling eggs while Max sets the table.

Charles glances up with a grin. “Bonjour, ma belle. Sleep well?”

You hum affirmatively, accepting the mug of coffee Max hands you with a quick peck on the lips. “What time is it?”

“Just after 9,” Max says. “We were going to let you sleep in but breakfast is ready.”

You sip your coffee, leaning back against the counter. “That’s okay. I wanted to go to the farmer’s market this morning anyway. Care to join me after we eat?”

“I wish I could, but I have a training session in an hour,” Charles says regretfully.

Max shakes his head too. “And I have a sponsor meeting.”

You pout playfully. “Fine, abandon me to go shopping alone.”

Charles chuckles. “We would never. But duty calls today unfortunately.” He plates the eggs with some toast and you all sit down to eat.

After breakfast, you quickly get ready while Max and Charles clean up. Emerging from the bedroom, you grab your purse and find them waiting to walk you out.

“Have fun at the market,” Max says, kissing your cheek. “Get some of those apricot tarts I like.”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Only if you’re good.”

Charles hugs you tightly. “Be safe out there. Call if you need anything, yes?”

“I’ll be fine!” You assure him with a laugh. With a final wave, you head out the door and down to the lobby.

Stepping outside, you pause in confusion. A large crowd is gathered in front of your building. Fans, you realize. But how did they find your address?

Your heart sinks. Ever since going public, you’ve dealt with heightened interest and gossip. But this feels like a violation of privacy. Biting your lip uncertainly, you start trying to weave through the crowd towards the market down the block.

Immediately people press in excitedly around you. “It’s her!” You hear someone shout. Camera phones are suddenly in your face as people call out questions.

“How does being with the two of them work?”

“Be honest, do you prefer Max or Charles?”

You keep your head down, trying not to engage. Their invasive questions make your skin crawl. “Excuse me, please let me through,” you say as politely as you can.

But the crowd only seems to grow more aggressive, everyone shoving to get close and fire off more intrusive questions about your relationship. You feel hands grabbing at you and start to panic.

“Please, I need to get by,” you say, shrinking away from the grasping hands. But the crowd surges and someone shoves you hard from behind.

You cry out as you fall forward, directly into the path of an exuberant fan. Blinding pain explodes in your temple as her flailing elbow catches you across the face.

You hit the ground hard, vision graying out. Dazed, you try to curl into a protective ball as feet trample around you, completely oblivious.

“Stop, please!” You sob, blood dripping from your throbbing temple. But the crowd is a living entity now, crushing in on you. This is a nightmare.

Suddenly you hear a roar over the din. “GET BACK!”

The footsteps stutter to a halt as the authoritative voice bellows again. “GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HER!”

Then Max is there, somehow muscling his way through the press of bodies to drop to his knees beside you. His face is thunderous as he quickly but gently gathers you into his arms.

“Fucking animals,” he spits, glaring venomously at the stunned crowd as you cling to him desperately. “I’ve got you, just hold on.”

Over Max’s shoulder you can see Charles forcibly holding the fans at bay, yelling expletives in a jumbled mess of three languages. The path clears as Max carries you swiftly back into your building.

Once inside the apartment, Max lays you gently on the couch, hands feather-light as he examines your injuries. His jaw clenches when he sees the gash bleeding heavily at your temple.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he says tightly. “This needs stitches.”

You nod weakly, letting him press a towel to stanch the bleeding while Charles comes bursting in, swearing violently when he sees the blood.

“What the hell happened?” He demands, kneeling beside you. His touch is infinitely gentle though as he brushes hair from your face.

“Got mobbed by those goddamn stalkers outside,” Max growls. “One of them elbowed her in the head.”

Charles’ expression darkens dangerously. You’ve never seen him look so livid before.

“We’ll deal with them later,” Max says firmly. “Right now we need to get her to the emergency department.”

Charles nods, visibly reigning in his anger. “You’re right, of course.” He looks back at you, anger fading to concern. “Are you able to stand, chérie?”

You cry out as simply trying to sit up sends shooting pain through your head. Charles’ jaw ticks as he looks ready to rush back outside and fight the crowd himself, before he easily lifts you into his arms, Max holding the cloth to your cut as they carefully get you down to the garage.

The car ride passes in a haze of pain and you cling to Charles in the backseat while Max drives, exhaustion hitting you.

At the hospital, Max scoops you up, carrying you inside despite your mumbled protests that you can walk. He ignores you, striding right up to the intake desk.

“She needs help now,” he snaps. The no-nonsense tone of his voice has nurses springing into action immediately.

Before you know it, you’ve been whisked off for scans and then into an exam room. A kind faced doctor stitches up your wound carefully while Max and Charles hover protectively on either side.

“Any other injuries?” The doctor asks gently.

You shake your head. “Just some bruises I think.”

She pats your leg. “I’d still like to do a full workup, including a pregnancy test, before we proceed with any other treatment or medication.”

Your eyes widen. With everything going on, your period being late hadn’t even registered. But now that she mentions it ...

Charles and Max go still beside you. “Pregnancy test?” Charles asks tightly.

The doctor smiles reassuringly. “Standard procedure. I’m sure it’s just a precaution.”

Charles grabs your hand, tension radiating off him while you wait on the results. Max paces like a caged animal until the doctor returns. Her kind eyes immediately give it away.

The tests come back quickly and the doctor steps back in to review the results. “No signs of fracture or serious head injury, that’s good news. We’ll get you a prescription for the laceration and ...” she trails off, looking at the chart with a slight frown.

You feel Max and Charles tense on either side of you. “What is it?” Max asks sharply. “Something wrong?”

The doctor looks up. “No, nothing wrong. Just unexpected. The bloodwork indicates that you’re pregnant, about 8 weeks along.”

“Mon dieu,” Charles breathes, stunned. Max ceases his pacing, mouth agape. They both turn to you with myriad emotions swirling in their eyes.

“A baby?” Max says hoarsely. “We’re having a baby?”

You place a hand over your still flat stomach, head spinning. “I guess we are.”

Charles lets out an incredulous laugh and surges forward to capture your mouth in a fierce kiss. When he pulls back, his eyes are blazing.

“They could have hurt our child,” he says darkly. You can see the protectiveness rising in him, mixed with anger at those who endangered his baby.

Max’s expression mirrors Charles’ stormy one. “Those goddamn animals,” he spits. “If anything had happened ...” His hands fist at his sides.

You reach for them both. “But nothing did,” you remind them gently. “We’re both okay.”

They take deep breaths, focusing back on you. Charles rests his forehead against yours while Max kneels to press a kiss to your belly.

“We won’t let anyone hurt you again,” Max vows fiercely. “Either of you.”

Charles nods, jaw set. “We will keep you both safe, I swear it.”

Their protectiveness makes you feel warm and cherished. You know with your boys watching over you, nothing can touch you or your child.

“I know you will,” you say softly. Drawing their faces down, you kiss them each lovingly.

A fierce joy lights their eyes now as the shock fades. You’re having a baby, the three of you. Whatever comes next, you’ll face it together as a family.

Charles presses one more kiss to your lips, tender and full of promise. “I love you so much, all three of you,” he whispers.

Max squeezes your hand, eyes blazing. “I love you too. More than I ever thought possible.”

“And we,” your hand drifts to your still-flat stomach, “love you. My brilliant boys.”

***

The paddock buzzes with excitement on race morning, but for once it has nothing to do with fast cars or famous drivers. All eyes turn your way as you make your way through, one hand resting on your growing bump.

At five months along, your pregnancy is impossible to hide anymore. You’d managed to keep it quiet for a while, but last week an overly zoomed paparazzi shot of you in a fitted dress had let the secret out. Now it seems everyone has an opinion on your relationship dynamic and who the father might be.

You keep your head high, ignoring the whispers. Charles and Max wanted to shield you completely, but you refused to be stuck at home or made to feel ashamed. Besides, their steady presence on either side of you is comfort enough.

Charles presses a supportive hand to your lower back. “How are you feeling, chérie?”

You give him a reassuring smile. “We’re good.” Over your head, his eyes meet Max’s, a silent conversation passing between them. Their protectiveness has ramped up tenfold since finding out you’re pregnant.

Nearing the Red Bull garage, Max steers you towards the bathroom. “I’ll meet you inside in a minute, okay? I just need to check in with my engineers first.”

You nod, squeezing his hand before separating. As you exit the bathroom shortly after, a commotion down the paddock draws your eye. Even from a distance, the man’s imposing figure is recognizable. Your heart drops into your stomach.

Jos Verstappen.

He’s gesturing angrily at a retreating figure, who you realize with dread is Max. You’ve never actually met Max’s father, but from what you’ve heard, the man is bad news. Max has only mentioned him in the past tersely, a shadow passing over his face. Whatever he suffered as a child at Jos’ hands seems to have left deep scars.

As you watch, Jos suddenly wheels around and stalks towards the Red Bull garage, no doubt having caught sight of Max going in. Swearing under your breath, you hurry after him. There’s no way this confrontation ends well.

Inside the garage, the mechanics fall silent at Jos’ dramatic entrance. He pays them no mind, making a beeline for Max, who has gone rigid. You slip in behind Jos, catching Charles’ eye where he stands with the Ferrari crew down the pitlane. His brow furrows in concern but you give a small shake of your head — let Max handle this first.

“Max.” Jos’ tone could freeze over hell. “Care to explain what the hell is going on?”

Max’s face shutters. “I don’t owe you any explanations.”

“The hell you don’t!” Jos snaps. “I had to find out from the goddamn gossip rags that not only are you whoring around with multiple people, but one of them is pregnant? Have you no shame?”

Max flinches, looking stricken. Your hands curl into helpless fists at your sides.

“Watch yourself,” Charles suddenly growls, appearing behind you.

Jos whirls on him with a nasty sneer. “Stay out of this, playboy. This is between me and my son.” He turns back to Max. “Well? Explain yourself.”

Max seems to steel himself, straightening his spine. “There’s nothing to explain. What we have is no one’s business but our own.” His eyes flick to you and Charles briefly and soften before hardening again on his father.

“Bullshit!” Jos snaps. “Have you lost your mind? Carrying on with that girl while she whores around with this one too?” He jabs a finger at Charles then points at your belly. “And you’re telling me you’re fine possibly raising another man’s bastard as your own?”

Max’s expression darkens and he steps forward menacingly. “Watch. Your. Mouth.”

Charles moves closer too, vibrating with anger, but you grab his arm, shaking your head again. Let Max stand up to his father himself.

“We don’t care about who the biological father is,” Max continues fiercely. “That’s our child, no matter what. We’re a family.”

Jos scoffs. “A family? You’re delusional. What happens when those two get bored and leave you behind? This little fantasy you’re living is going to destroy your career.”

“You’re wrong,” Max says sharply. “I love them, and they love me. I’ve never been happier than with them.” His eyes soften again as he looks at you and Charles once more. “I don’t need or want anything else.”

Jos’ lip curls derisively. “Pathetic. I didn’t raise you to be so weak. This ends now, before you ruin your life even more. You will get rid of her and end things with the boy too.”

Charles growls, shaking off your restraining hand to storm forward. But Max beats him to it, getting right in Jos’ face.

“No,” he says, so firmly it brokers no argument. “You don’t control my life anymore. I won’t let you tear apart my family. Now get the hell out of my garage before I have you removed.”

For a moment Jos just gapes, clearly not expecting Max to stand up to him. His face purples with rage but before he can respond, security is there grabbing him by the arms.

“I think it’s time for you to go, sir,” one says firmly, already hauling Jos away.

He struggles in vain, spluttering furiously. But Max has already dismissed him, turning away. Only once Jos is gone does Max seem to deflate, shoulders slumping.

In an instant, you and Charles are both there, wrapping him in your arms. He clutches you both desperately, face buried in your hair.

“I’m so sorry you had to deal with that,” you murmur, smoothing a hand over his back.

Charles presses a kiss to his temple. “You were very brave, mon amour. I’m proud of you for standing up to him.”

Max huffs out a shaky laugh. “Didn’t feel very brave. But I meant what I said — I’m not letting anyone take either of you away from me.”

He pulls back to meet your eyes earnestly. “You are my family now. The only thing that matters to me.” His hand comes to rest gently on your belly. “All three of you.”

Emotion clogs your throat and you see Charles blink back tears. You both lean in simultaneously to kiss Max’s cheeks.

“We love you so much,” you whisper fiercely. “And we’ll always be a family, no matter what.”

Charles nods. “You are stuck with us now. We are yours, just as you are ours.”

The last of the tension bleeds from Max’s frame and he gifts you both with a brilliant, beautiful smile. Leaning his forehead against yours, his eyes shine with happy tears.

“I’m the luckiest man in the world,” he says softly. “I have everything I’ll ever need right here.”

You smile through your own tears, heart overflowing. Together, wrapped in the safety of each other’s love, you know everything will be okay.

[sinsirellaxx]

Okay but how about our toxic Slytherin boys who only have a soft spot for the reader🥺

Slytherin Boys – They only have a soft spot for you

Warning: Honestly ... no warnings!

A/N: Thank you for the request! Enjoy!

Not proofread.

Mattheo …

… whose frown disappeared as soon as he heard your voice or spotted you in the crowd. Who immediately hides his injured fist behind his back in fear of worrying you – he didn’t want to taint you with his darkness. Mattheo who deleted and blocked every single girl’s number after falling for you. Mattheo who stopped skipping classes, just to always be with you and see you several times throughout the day. The young riddle brother who’d rather wear cozy pajamas, with a face mask on his face to watch a movie with you together in his bed instead of getting wasted at a party.

Mattheo who constantly has to bite the inside of his cheeks to keep himself from hurting anyone who’s too close to you.

Mattheo who is actually afraid to scare you away with his true self – so afraid, that he constantly has to put up a mask.

Mattheo who’d burn the whole world down just to be with you.

“I love you more than you know, love. From now on, everything I do is for you. You’re mine and I’ll always be yours.”

Theodore …

… who is known to be a womanizer is suddenly ashamed of his past promiscuous lifestyle.  Theodore who only has eyes for you, ever since you ran into him and ended up pulling him to the floor with you. He had been annoyed at first but the moment your eyes connected his head went completely silent. For the first time in a long while. He saw peace and warmth in your eyes – his peace, that he would run after from that day on.

Theodore who spent most of his time with you after having finally won you over. The only thing that mattered to him were you and if your relationship was getting serious and you loved him just as earnestly as he loved you, he’d even quit smoking.

“There is no one that I want more than you. You’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of. Ti amo.”

Lorenzo …

… was surprisingly thoughtful and selfless when with you. Lorenzo had gained himself the title of being the prince of Slytherin, with his charming looks and boyish smile but every girl who had been in an intimate relationship knew how selfish and arrogant Berkshire really was. He is the my-pleasure-only kind of guy, who’d be gone in the morning. Or the guy who leaves girls on read and just sheepishly smiles at them when confronted about it. But with you, Lorenzo can’t help but light up like a small child on Christmas eve whenever you hold his hand let alone are close to him. He’d impatiently wait for your replies and snatch his phone from wherever it was whenever it vibrated in the hopes of it being a message from you. He’d trail after you like a lost puppy, taking advantage of the positive image that he had built for himself and would look at you sadly with his big brown eyes, whenever someone or even you brought up his reputation with the girls.

“Please don’t listen to those rumors … I truly love you so much. So much, it actually hurts me.” Lorenzo brokenly whispers while clutching his chest.

Draco …

… would pamper you with his money – because that is the only love language he knows. He didn’t grow up in a loving, warm household but his parents gave him everything he wanted to compensate for their lack off emotional support. Draco never knew he wanted – no, needed intimacy until he met you. At first, he had been appalled by his feelings for you. You were nothing like the ideal woman his parents expected him to marry one day, but he was lost in your eyes the second you smiled at him – trapped in the warmth that radiated in your orbs. The man completely changed – well, only when it was about you. In the beginning of your relationship, you had to teach him about the other love languages – you had to reassure him, that he didn’t need to spend money on you to express his love. You told him he could touch you, kiss you, hug you and tell you, whenever he wanted or needed something from you. After that, Draco didn’t go a day without hugging you close to his body at least once. He’d kiss you good morning and goodbye, every. Single. Day.

He'd never forget to tell you how much he loved you and how beautiful you were.

“I love you more than I thought I was capable of. My heart is so full. Thank you for being mine.”

Blaise …

… would be – what is nowadays considered as – a simp. He’d go soft for you and only for you. Whatever you want – whatever you need, he’ll get it for you. You want him to straighten or curl your hair? No need to ask twice. You want to apply make-up on his face just for shits and giggles? Anything for his princess – but please don’t take any pictures of him.

Someone looks at you the wrong way and makes you feel uncomfortable? They might go blind soon if they don’t look away asap. Blaise is so infatuated with you, that you wouldn’t even have to ask or mention the idea of a promise ring or matching necklaces – he’d be two steps ahead of you.

“I know it sounds cheesy – but you are the moon of my life. I’d do anything to see that beautiful smile of yours.”

Tom …

… still struggles with showing affection and worries, that it might drive you away. He tries – he really tries hard. Tom Riddle is known for his intelligence, but he soon has to come to terms with the fact that his intelligence won’t help him with romance. He had a lot to learn. When he first started noticing his feelings towards you, he was in complete denial. He outright refused to accept them. He had no time for love. But when another male from his year started flirting with you his resolve to ignore his feelings disappeared into thin air. He couldn’t ignore his feelings any longer – or else he’d have to get rid of many male students and that would not be optimal for his time at Hogwarts. He’d slowly start getting closer to you: Approaching you in the library to help you reach a book from the top shelf, helping you carry your books when one of them fell from your arms. He even had to practically force Snape to assign him as your Potions tutor. You had been intimidated at first, but he slowly grew on you. Tom was very attentive and took mental notes on everything you told him.

Out of respect for you, Tom didn’t want to make use of his legilimency, but he couldn’t help himself. He is still a toxic boy after all.

“I promise to always love you, my love. There is nothing that can stand between us – you are mine forever.”

_

A/N: Feedback and comments are greatly appreciated! ❤️

If you want to support me and my work: https://ko-fi.com/sinsirella

[luffington]

young master ♡

➤ summary: You don't worship the ground Doflamingo walks on, and it turns him on a little too much. (18+)

➤ pairing: doflamingo x afab!reader

➤ word count: 3.7k

➤ warnings: kinda sub!doflamingo (he’s a horny menace), mild dubcon, possessive doffy, spit kink, oral (f receiving), masturbation (m receiving), degradation, name-calling

➤ notes: this takes place before dressrosa but i’m only halfway done with the arc so sorry for any inaccuracies! i haven't posted my writing online in years so please lmk what you think :3

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Doflamingo was sulking. His signature smile was comically turned upside down and his arms were crossed over his chest. Feet resting on top of his desk as he leaned back in his plush office chair, crumpling the important documents strewn underneath them that he was meant to review and sign. He knew he probably looked like a petulant child, and he felt like one, too. This was all your fucking fault.

Even though you were only in your twenties, you were already a well-known Vice Admiral. Vergo had informed Doflamingo of your impressive Haki abilities months ago, but that wasn’t the only reason he kept a close eye on you. You were sexy as hell, even in a Marines uniform, and he delighted in every brief interaction he had with you at Warlord meetings. When you decided to take some time off, he snatched you up immediately with a tantalizing job offer. After all, working for him was technically still a Government job, and he was helping so many countries in need!

You made it clear from the very beginning that this was a temporary gig and you had no intention of permanently joining the Donquixote Family. You were his business partner, not his subordinate. He never planned on honoring that agreement, of course, but you were making his plans particularly difficult. 

The man had hundreds of thousands – if not millions – of loyal and passive subjects. Obedient workers who never questioned his judgment and praised his iron fist, from the filthy commoners at the bottom to the Elite Officers up top. But not you. 

You had the kind of effortless confidence that got under his skin. You were unbothered and detached from his evil antics, from him. He made his presence known everywhere he went and was always the focus of the room, but it seemed like you paid more attention to the damn servants than him. His threats and intimidation which made thousands tremble in fear hardly made you flinch. When he revealed the secret of Dressrosa’s toys in hopes of getting a reaction from you, you practically yawned. 

You knew who he was. You knew what he was capable of. You didn’t fucking care.

You weren’t afraid of him, and this greatly disturbed him.

A few days ago, you had strolled into his office without even knocking on the door. He furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance, but you barely took notice. You were there to discuss your agreement in order to figure out a time frame of how long he needed you. He threw his head back and laughed loudly as he said, “That’s adorable. You really think you can get away from me, hm?”

Perceptive as always, you noticed the slightest twitch of his middle finger and immediately held an Armament Haki-coated hand in front of your chest, blocking the nearly invisible string flung your way. “Doffy, I’m being serious.”

He frowned and narrowed his eyes. Diamante used that nickname once in front of you and now you wouldn’t call him anything else. You thought it was cute. “Since when can you block my strings?”

“Do you really think I’d be a Vice Admiral if I couldn’t do that? You were so obvious about it, too.” You clicked your tongue, knowing full well that anyone less powerful than you wouldn’t be able to perceive his movement. Prominent veins popped in Doflamingo’s forehead but the blonde man stayed silent. “I think I’ll stay here for a few more months, at least. Maybe longer if I don’t have a terrible time here. Dressrosa is kind of growing on me.” 

“You’re acting like I can’t keep you here by force.” Doflamingo interrupted your train of thought. “I could have Sugar turn you into a cute little doll, and then your Vice Admiral position would disappear. Or Giolla could turn you into a painting to hang on my wall.” He paused as if considering his options, knowing full well what he truly wanted. “Maybe I’ll keep you tied up with strings as my own personal pet.”

Many times he’d pictured you tied to the headboard of his bed, stripped naked and covered in his drying cum as he used you however he wanted. Perhaps then he’d finally ignite a spark of fear in you. 

“If you actually wanted to do that, it would’ve happened already. But you’re the one who hired me, remember?” You acted like you were explaining something obvious to a kid. “If you try anything against me, I can always call up the Navy and tell them what you’re doing to your poor innocent citizens. Maybe even let them know your alias? Begins with a J, right?”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He snarled, sitting up in his seat immediately and binding strings around your wrists to keep them pinned above your head. You kept your eyes trained on his, a determined and almost taunting glint in them. 

“I’m not a big fan of blackmail, so I don’t want to do that,” you replied in an even tone. “I’m just saying that I can. Now, are we gonna talk business, or are you gonna play cat’s cradle all day?”

Doflamingo should’ve killed you right then and there. That would’ve put an end to his confusing thoughts about you, but your conversation only made them worse. You were on his mind constantly, to the point where he couldn’t focus on anything else. It was an obsession, an infatuation, one completely unbecoming of a heavenly being like himself. People were meant to grovel at his feet and kiss the very ground he walked on – why the fuck were you not affected?

He finally had enough. He pushed the chair away from his desk and stormed out of his office. Servants hurried away in fear, knowing that his scowl and heavy footsteps meant nothing but trouble. A whirlwind of thoughts swirled around his mind — he wanted to make you scream, to completely immobilize you with his power, to kiss you so hard you saw stars. No, that wasn’t it. 

He wanted you to call him ‘Young Master’. 

Doflamingo threw open the double doors to a secluded drawing room in his typical dramatic flair. You were alone, reclining on a couch and reading a book. Even this pissed him off – you were in a potential viper’s nest, surrounded by powerful people who could turn on you at any point, yet you didn’t feel the need to keep others around you for protection. You turned your head towards the intruder in confusion. His massive body filled the door frame and light from the hallway illuminated him and his feathery coat from behind, making him look like a fallen angel.

“What Devil Fruit did you eat.” It was a statement, not a question. His voice was a dangerously low growl. 

“I already told you, I didn’t eat one.” You said slowly, slightly thrown off by his demeanor but still not afraid. 

“You lying bitch!” He roared, using his strings to slam the doors behind him as he crossed the room towards you in three giant steps. “You must have some kind of mind control ability, or manipulation, or… I don’t fucking know! Tell me what’s happening!” He threw his head in his hands and crouched over, almost as if he was in pain. “Why can’t I stop fucking thinking about you!”

Your mouth opened slightly and you blinked a few times to process the situation, and then it hit you. A sly grin slowly formed on your face as you dog-eared your book and set it down next to you. You knew this man was incapable of love in its purest sense, but maybe… “Doffy, have you never been attracted to someone before?”

His head shot up and he narrowed his eyes at you furiously behind his sunglasses. Of course he’d fucking been attracted to people – he refused to settle for nothing but the best with his lovers. He had fucked enough sexy men and women over the years to form a small army. But none of them were like you. 

They were all cheaply made toys, suitable for one or two uses then tossed in the trash when they broke or when he got bored. He was a greedy and spoiled child who always got what he wanted. But with you… it felt like he was staring through the front window of a shop at a shiny new toy. So close and so enticing but completely out of reach.

“Fuck you! I… I…” You would never know how that sentence was supposed to end, because he sunk to his knees and hung his head in frustrated shame. He slammed his fist against the floor hard enough to rattle the room. “Why won’t you belong to me?!”

The almighty King of Dressrosa, the feared Warlord, the powerful underground broker, was on his knees begging for you. He knew he sounded pathetic. He felt pathetic. But he couldn’t go a moment longer without getting what he wanted, what was rightfully his. 

To say you were shocked was an understatement. You had always stood your ground because you knew your worth, but sometimes you did it to purposely push the blonde man’s buttons since no one else seemed to have the courage to do so. But you were just teasing him – this was not the outcome you had in mind. 

You slowly stood from the couch to move in front of him. Even bent over, the massive man was practically your height, but he had never seemed smaller.

“Doffy,” you began in a quiet voice and reached out to gently touch his feather-clad shoulder, but he slammed the ground again. 

“I don’t need you to patronize me! I need…” he trailed off again and hesitated for a moment before realizing what he needed to do to calm the fire roaring inside him. Fine, he would give you a fucking reason to worship him. He threw himself at your midsection, making you yelp in surprise. He had finally drawn a reaction out of you, and it spurred him on even more. Rough hands yanked your shirt up to your breasts and he hungrily mouthed at the soft skin of your tummy, a frenzied mess of tongue and teeth and soft lips. “I need you. Give yourself to me.” He said breathlessly, punctuating his words with a sharp bite at your hip. 

You were frozen in place but weak in the knees, unable to do anything but accept his bites and bruises. You’d be lying if you said you’d never imagined what his long tongue and nimble fingers felt like on your body, in your body. He nipped at your skin hard enough to bruise then soothed it with his tongue, sending heat straight to your core. 

Doflamingo was in a drugged-like haze, mind clouded with a dizzying mix of lust and hatred and longing. He belatedly noticed that you weren’t resisting him when he popped the button on your jeans. When he looked up, he realized your cheeks were flushed and your gaze was trained on his long fingers dancing along the waistband of your pants. 

He smiled wickedly, feeling a sliver of regained control. “You fucking whore. You want this, don’t you?”

“Doffy, you’re the one literally trying to get in my pants.”

“Shut up.” He snarled, annoyed yet allured by your sweet giggle afterwards. He yanked your jeans down to your ankles to reveal pretty pink lace panties underneath. They practically matched the color of his coat – you had to have worn those just for him. Might as well take them later. 

A needy and unashamed whine tore from his lips when he saw your pussy. Even more perfect than he’d imagined all those times he fucked his fist alone in bed. He told himself this was what was necessary to crush that annoying ego of yours, knowing full well he was nearly shaking with pure carnal desire. He grabbed your hips hard enough to bruise and shoved your thighs apart before diving in. His tongue was ravenous, licking a sloppy stripe from your ass to your clit, mouth closing around the nub and sucking harshly. The sweetest moan he’d ever heard fell from your lips and he echoed it, eager to hear more. 

Fingers tangled in his short blonde hair as you tried to steady yourself. It was too much all at once. You tried to tug him away to tell him to slow down, yet wanted to pull him even closer. Doflamingo flinched at the contact. Part of him wanted to tie your hands behind your back because how dare you touch him without permission. But instead, he groaned at the rough pull on his scalp, which went straight to his hardening cock. His grip on you tightened as he dragged you further onto his face.

His long tongue lapped messily at your folds then slipped into your cunt, shallowly thrusting the wet tip in and out. He laughed in delight at your delicious juices coating his tastebuds and making his head spin.

“You’re so fucking wet.” He panted and rubbed his nose against your clit, making you jump. A sloppy string of his saliva still connected his mouth to your entrance. “I think you like me after all.”

“I’d like anyone who eats me out this good,” you quipped.

“But no one’s as good as me, hm?” To prove his point, he shoved the entirety of his skilled tongue deep inside you. You threw your head back and whined as the wet muscle curled and twisted inside you, hungrily lapping at your sensitive inner walls. “No one will ever be as good as me. Say you’re mine and you can have this every day.”

“F-fuck, Doffy… so, mmh, good…” He ate you out like a man starved, desperately sucking at every part of your pussy he could reach. One hand moved from your hip, leaving dark blue fingerprint-shaped bruises behind, and plunged into his own pants. He let out a deep groan at the contact.

“Call me Young Master.” Doflamingo breathed heavily as he pulled his pants down slightly. Your jaw dropped when he revealed his massive and fully erect dick, leaking beads of precum and bobbing against his stomach. You knew he’d be big based on his height, but this was inhuman. The blonde man noticed your hungry gaze and chuckled. “You want me so badly. Stop denying the truth and I’ll give you everything you want. I am a benevolent king, after all.”

You actually laughed at that, and he didn’t even try to be angry – being on full display for you meant he couldn’t hide the way your disobedience made his cock twitch. His other hand slithered between your legs and rubbed at your folds and the smile fell off your face.

You stumbled backwards – there was nothing behind you to lean on and your legs were quickly turning into jelly. “W-wait, Doffy, I can’t, ahh, l-let me sit…”

Two of his fingers moved downwards and bound your feet to the floor with his string. Immobilizing your bottom half like a statue but intentionally leaving your top half free to grab at his hair and body as you pleased. “Your king will grant you permission to move when I want to.” 

“S’okay, I l-like seeing you look up to me for once.” Your witty reply was lost on the blonde, who had spread your folds apart and was hypnotized by your entrance clenching around nothing. You were so fucking tiny compared to him and he ached at the thought of molding your insides to take him and him alone.

Just one thick finger was enough to make you moan and pant, slowly pushing its way inside your cunt. “Shit, you’re so tight.” The soft squelches of your inner walls rang in his ears and pretty pearls of precum leaked from his dick. “Perfect fucking pussy. Give it to me.”

A second digit was soon added, scissoring you apart expertly. Unsurprisingly, the man really knew how to use his fingers. He crooked them and brushed against your most sensitive spot, causing you to cry out and hold onto him even harder. Sharp teeth playfully bit at your inner thigh in response. Doflamingo gathered some of the constant dribble of precum from the tip of his cock to lube his rough palm. He considered making you spit on his hand to ease the glide, but a better idea came to mind.

“Spit in my mouth.” He ordered, tilting his head up and sticking his tongue out. Waiting for you to follow his command like a good toy.

You were taken aback by the sudden request, but you gathered a ball of spit in your mouth like you were told… and it landed directly on the lens of his sunglasses, obscuring the vision of one eye. Doflamingo knew that it wasn’t just badly aimed. This was an act of defiance. You intentionally spit on his defining accessory, his very essence.

“You stupid slut.” The venomous insult came with a maniacally pleased grin. He pushed the stained glasses onto his forehead and you finally saw his eyes for the first time. Gorgeous and bright blue with lust-blown pupils. Looking at his beautifully depraved expression in its entirety, you briefly wondered if he really was an angel. His fingers sped up to a nearly brutal pace and he slipped in a third digit, causing you to choke on your spit. “Love me. Love me.”

A divine being who fell from heaven to beg at your feet. 

“Y-you’re fucking insane,” you panted with a blissful smile, your cunt clenching down deliciously on him. “Make up your, mmh, mind.”

“Adore me.” He responded immediately. “Say you’re mine. Be mine.”

Even though you refused to respond, the blonde was lost in his fantasies yet grounded in the reality of your beautiful face scrunched up in pleasure. Mouth hanging open, hands nearly going numb from how hard you held onto him. He needed to see you like this every day – no, every hour. He could keep you under his desk like a pet, ready to suck his dick whenever he allowed you to. Or maybe you’d sit in his lap all day, one of his hands fondling your tits as he attended meetings and forced his subordinates to watch him play with his favorite toy. 

But that was too mundane. He could snatch up anyone in Dressrosa right now and do the same. No, the twisted fantasy that really made his cock ache was already happening. That annoyingly sexy confidence of yours was threatening his godliness. 

Maybe he’d make you step on him next time.

“Call me Young Master,” he begged again, too far gone to realize how ridiculous he sounded. Tongue hanging out like a dog (and panting like one, too), he rutted into his hand even faster. His cock was absolutely throbbing, red and angry and dripping precum. He was in no position to be giving orders. You stifled a giggle with your hand, which quickly turned into a moan as his fingers bumped against your cervix. 

“I already t-told you,” you sucked in a few shaky breaths. He was watching you intently and still smiling, but his fingers never slowed down. “You’re not my –mm– Master, I don’t, ahh, work for you…”

“But why not?” He whined again. “At least call me it when you cum. I’ll fucking kill you if you don’t.” 

You didn’t acknowledge the ridiculously empty threat, instead throwing your head back when his fingers crooked against your most sensitive spot. Slick was dribbling down your legs – Doflamingo licked it off of your thighs before slurping around his digits buried inside you. The blonde echoed your unashamedly loud moans, practically on the edge himself. He only needed one thing to send him into a rapturous white bliss. 

He stared up at you unblinkingly, face frozen in a grin as he took in all the telltale signs of your approaching orgasm. Sweat dribbled down your forehead, eyebrows furrowed together, body tense and breath hot. “I-I’m gonna… gonna…” He crooked his fingers inside you the way he’d done thousands of times to turn people into obedient little puppets.

“Doffy~!” Your face contorted into the most divine expression he’d ever seen, crying out his name like a desperate prayer. 

You ignored his order. You used that stupid fucking nickname. 

He came hard. 

The tight coil that had been building in his groin for days at the mere thought of you finally snapped. An animalistic moan left his lips as thick ropes of cum coated his hand and spilled onto his abdomen. He looked even more blissed out than you, panting hard and shuddering and nearly overstimulating himself with the hand on his cock still slowly moving up and down. 

Doflamingo finally removed his fingers from inside you and loudly sucked them clean of your essence. Still craning his neck upwards so he wouldn’t break eye contact with you. You could lose yourself inside that piercing gaze, so full of obsession and hunger, especially when it was coming from a position of worship rather than condescension. 

Blinking out of your stupor, you realized the blonde’s cum-coated hand was in front of your mouth. If you were anyone else, he would’ve shoved his fingers all the way to your throat and made you choke on it. Instead, he stayed still and kept quiet. This was an offering. 

You grabbed his wrist and kitten-licked his sticky palm twice, humming thoughtfully as if appraising the taste. His grin grew even wider. Then you pulled away and teasingly said, “You take care of the rest of it.”

Doflamingo simply giggled in delight — you’d willingly tasted the essence of a god, one that was soon to be your god, but you were still too stubborn to give in. He didn’t expect you to crumble so easily and he didn’t want you to. He was having way too much fun. The blonde smeared the rest of his cum on the crotch of the pink panties still pooled around your ankles. 

“That’s disgusting.” You huffed in annoyance and rolled your eyes. “What am I supposed to wear out of here?”

The man chuckled lowly and rose to his feet, suddenly towering above you at full height. He wiped the dried spit off of his sunglasses before returning them to their rightful place on the bridge of his nose. 

“Who said anything about leaving?” You paled at the sight of his devilish grin but felt your core clench in need. “You still haven’t called me by my proper title.”

[tunatoge]

pairing: s. gojo x reader | next part >

when megumi asks gojo to teach him how to ride a bike, he panics–how would he teach a kid how to ride a bike when he doesn’t know how to ride one either? instead of admitting that, however, gojo goes out and buys a kids’ bike with training wheels, reassuring megumi that ‘of course he knows how to ride a bike, he’s the best cyclist in the world’! megumi doubts him the moment gojo’s confident facade falls and he eyes the bike weirdly. 

you’re in the bath at your small apartment when gojo calls you, saying he desperately needs you. you immediately jump out of the tub and dry yourself as you attempt to simultaneously throw on your uniform. when you get to gojo’s place, you quickly look around in fear that something is wrong only to find little megumi and tsumiki crowded around a gaudy blue bike. megumi looks up at you, a bike helmet a size too big pulled over his messy hair. 

“are you going to teach me how to ride a bike?” he asks as he scratches at the velcro straps on his knee pads. 

huh?

everything clicks into place when gojo comes around the corner with unnecessary biking equipment piled high in his arms. you grit your teeth. of course gojo would ask you to teach megumi how to ride a bike, you and suguru were the only ones who knew how to ride one in the first place. you didn’t think it was too useful of a skill when you and your classmates were younger, especially after the young gojo clan head had called you a country bumpkin for knowing how to ride a bike, but you suppose it was important enough that gojo would deliberately go out of his way to get you to teach a kid how to bike. 

as gojo deposits everything in his arms, you crouch down to megumi’s height with a smile on your face, pushing your still wet hair out of your eyes. you reach forward and adjust megumi’s helmet. 

“how long have you been biking with training wheels?” you ask, pulling the helmet straps a little tighter and clipping them into place. 

megumi purses his lips as he looks away to think. “a few weeks,” he says, “i want to be the first one in my grade to know how to ride a bike without training wheels, though.” you let out a little laugh as megumi tucks his chin away from you, his cheeks a soft pink. 

“alright, megumi, i’ll make sure that you’re the first person in your grade to ride a bike.” you extend your pinky towards him, “i pinky promise,” you say, tilting your head with a bright smile. megumi shyly links his pinky with yours as your smile widens. 

teaching megumi how to ride a bike is hard. gojo hovers over your shoulder as you run behind megumi as he pedals on his bike, watching with a small unhidden grimace every single time you let go of the back of the blue bike and tell megumi to ‘keep going’! not only does having gojo next to you make it significantly harder to instruct megumi, but you also have to listen to him attempt to console and give wrong advice to the kid. 

you groan outwardly as megumi topples over on his bike a few feet away from you. as gojo begins to walk towards him, you bring your arm up and block him. 

“satoru,” you warn, “if you continue to give megumi wrong advice again i will fucking punch you.” you turn towards him and glare sharply. “let me do this.” 

you walk towards megumi and gojo falters, watching as you take the boy into your arms and pat the dirt off of him and make sure his knee pads are on tightly. the evening wind blows through your and megumi’s hair as you crouch down and pick up the ugly, scratched bike and help megumi settle back onto it. tsumiki stands up from the park bench she’s seated at and makes her way towards gojo, watching as you and megumi begin to race even further down the park’s bicycle only section. you let go and cheer loudly as megumi finally gets the hang of it, jumping up and down before bounding after him as he bikes around and around. 

“i like them,” tsumiki tells gojo, letting gojo reach down and pull her hair out of her face as the wind begins to pick up even more.

“me too,” he admits softly, watching you and megumi turn around, listening as your and megumi’s elated laughter fills the empty park.

[highvern]

When I Kissed the Teacher

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, humor

Summary: Mr. Kim has a crush, to his students that much is clear. It's also clear that you like him too. What happens when a group of meddlesome ten year olds decide to play cupid for their two favorite teachers?

Warnings: science teacher mingyu, grammar teacher reader, meddling students, crushes, flirting, lots of candy and coffee

Length: ~5.2k

Note: it's here! thank you to @gyuwoncheol and @gyuswhore for beta reading and to my lovely @tomodachiii for fact checking my knowledge of primary school lol

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Turning from the white board, Mingyu faces the room full of weary children. Mondays are hard. Early mornings are hard. Learning the difference between reptiles and mammals first thing on Monday morning is downright torture. But it’s nothing a little bribery (read: candy) can't fix.

"Alright class, today we're learning about animals! Who remembers what a mammal is?"

Mingyu barely finishes his sentence before a sharp knock interrupts.

“Mr. Kim,” you seethe from the doorway.

Mingyu turns around immediately, eyes wide in fear at your tone. “Yes?”

“Can I speak with you? In the hallway?”

The class of ten year olds “ooooh” as their teacher trails after you like a kicked puppy. If they weren't awake before they sure are now. He shoots a silencing look back before dipping out the door where you wait, foot tapping impatiently.

“Would you like to explain where all my printer paper went?”

Mingyu tries to play dumb. “I don’t know?”

“Oh really?" You blink. "Because I found the box in the workroom and guess what was on the printer? More of your worksheets for your class!”

“How do you know they were for my class?”

You don’t answer, in favor of shoving the animal themed coloring sheets into his chest harshly.

“Listen, anyone could have…” He trails off under your withering glare.

“If you need paper, ask!”

Mingyu burns under the reprimand. “Oh, like you asked to use my paints last month?” 

“That was an accident!" you argue, eyes wide. "And I replaced them.”

“Alright, then I’ll replace the paper I took.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

With a curt nod, you turn to leave; unaware of the blushing cheeks and heart eyes following your retreating form. But the gaggle of elementary students waiting for Mingyu's return see them clear as day; their fits of shrill giggles and whispers falling on deaf ears as he shakes off the stars clouding his mind.

Mr. Kim, their goofy science teacher, has a crush. And like children are wont to do, they hatch a scheme to help him out.

—

“Alright. Do we remember the difference between fragments and sentences?”

The classroom ripples with tiny voices shouting “yes” with varying degrees of confidence. Their last quiz grades are proof they haven’t quite grasped the subject yet but that’s why you’re planning for an intensive review with them today.

“Awesome! So our warm up today should be a piece of cake. I’ll help with the first one so let's all look at the boa—”

A knock at the door cuts you off. Mingyu stands in the threshold, looking positively mischievous. 

“Sorry to interrupt, Ms. y/l/n. But can I speak with you in the hall?”

Forcing a smile, you respond. “Certainly. Class, why don’t you all work with your desk partner on the worksheet and when I come back we’ll go over the answers?”

They break into groups, chattering about everything but the work you’ve assigned; most notably the way Mr. Kim beams as you follow him outside. However, once you’ve crossed beyond the border of the brightly decorated room, twenty pairs of ears strain to hear why Mr. Kim interrupted their morning lesson.

“What's this about?” you ask.

Mingyu smiles, eyes shifting to the floor. “Here's the paper I owed you.” 

“You’re kidding.”

Three hefty boxes are stacked next to your door. It’s far more paper than Mingyu used for his color sheets, and more than you’d probably need for the rest of the semester.

“I thought you could use extra since you’re too stingy to share.”

“I’m not stingy!” You scoff.

Mingyu simply flashes another self-satisfied smile before heaving a box into his arms and carrying it into your classroom. He could certainly carry all three boxes at once; anytime there were desks or anything else remotely heavy to be moved, Mingyu did so with ease. But the kids don’t think anything of the way he so obviously drags out the torture.

The kids watch Mr. Kim weave through the maze of tables towards the back of the room.

“Lia, can you open the door for me please?”

The little girl jumps from her desk and bolts for the supply closet, braids bouncy with each step.

“In here okay?” Mingyu asks.

Blinking from your stupor, you turn back to your desk as you answer. “Yeah, it’s…whatever.” 

Your class stopped their work to focus on the unfolding drama between their two favorite teachers. They don’t know why you can’t seem to stand their science teacher, and it’s anyone’s guess why Mr. Kim has decided to interrupt their grammar lesson for something so silly. But it’s clear that whenever you two meet an argument is clear to follow. And in the guidebook of elementary school, if you like a girl, you always argue with them.

So enthralled in your silent battle of wits with the peppy man, you miss the two girls plotting in the corner.

Hana turns to her friends with breakneck speed. “Did you see the way Mr. Kim smiled at her?”

“He’s so in love,” Arin sighs dreamily.

“And Miss y/l/n is blushing! We should help them.”

Their whispers are cut off when you clap. “Alright! Back to work!”

Mingyu lingers by the front until you forcibly shoo him away, huffing at the permanent smile stretched across his lips even when the door slams in his face.

“Meet at the tree during recess.” 

The two girls nod and return to their worksheets.

A new week comes with new challenges. Today’s is the universe’s determination to make your life as difficult as possible.

Your alarm didn’t go off, your shoddy dryer left you with damp clothes, and your car battery decided a short strike would be a great way to start the freezing morning. There was barely time to wash your face with cold tap water let alone put on makeup or style your hair. To top it all off, the green lunchbox with leftovers from your favorite restaurant sits on the shelf of your fridge which means the crumbled granola bar at the bottom of your purse will finally see the light of day.

Flicking on the lights, you rush to prepare for the day. By the grace of god your first period is planning time so no students witness your near breakdown from the absolute shit storm of the morning. Not much is to be done since you already organized everything you needed Friday afternoon but the tense events of the day leave you feeling off. Not even a cup of coffee with the creamer you reserve for days like these helps the overwhelming unease rippling in the back of your throat.

Your allotted private time washes by and before you know it, a gaggle of students filters into your room, giddy on holiday spirit and sugar. The first five minutes of class are spent reminding them their butts belong in chairs at their own stations, that the warmup is for them to complete on their own, and if they aren’t feeling well enough to do classwork they need to go to the nurse.

Twenty minutes into the lesson and the worksheet for their quiz on Friday finally manages to capture their attention. A few students struggle but most are sailing through. Its the same material as last week just with a new puzzle for them to complete once they have all the correct answers.

“Alright, who can tell me what word fits for number six?” you ask.

The attentiveness you’ve sweated to cultivate all morning dissolves when a volunteer knocks to distribute candy-grams.

“Delivery!” a young woman sings as she enters, dressed in red from head to toe with heart shaped sunglasses and a sparkly headband. Her wicker basket flows with candy bars wrapped with shiny ribbon and cardstock penned with confessions.

The shrill symphony of oohs and ahhs as the kids receive pieces of candy raises the vein on your temple. 

“And for Ms. y/l/n!” the young woman sing-songs, heart headband bouncing as she approaches your desk.

The cardstock reads one of the cheesy messages the school provides for the Valentine cards they sell as a yearly fundraiser.

‘I like you a choco-lot! - your secret admirer’ 

You throw it into a drawer in your desk, oblivious to the crestfallen faces of two little girls watching with rapt attention. 

“I don’t think she likes chocolate,” Arin whispers.

“No. Remember during Halloween? She said her favorite candy is Twix. She gave Gabi an extra point on the spelling test when she brought in her halloween candy and gave them to her.” 

“Well maybe she’s mad because it wasn’t a Twix!”

“Maybe. But Mr. Kim didn’t react to the note on his desk this morning either,” Hana huffs. “But he was late so maybe he didn’t see it.”

Your second attempt to put class back on track falls flat. Instead of group review, kids come up to your desk one by one to check their answers while you nurse your headache until the bell dismisses everyone to their next destination. Another crop of students flood the seats, emotions running high from who did and didn’t receive candy in their last class. Two students end up arguing about who knows what and then proceed to break into frustrated tears.

You bite your tongue to stop from doing the same and put on one of the movies you reserve for days like these.

When Mingyu walks into your room after school ends and all the kids are dismissed for pick up, you give him a look that sends him turning around and exiting the way he came without a word.

Tuesday brings a better attitude. Mostly because you get to take all of your class to the library for silent reading. But the homemade stirfry sitting in your lunch box in the teacher’s lounge helps too.

Your second period kids spread out through the room, some sprawled across the worn rugs on their bellies while others curl up in the much coveted bean bags; a few choose to hide between the imposing bookshelves, crowded on all sides by the smell of old paper. 

With an overly sweetened latte sitting in one hand, and a new novel in the other, you perch at the long table near the librarian's desk to ‘supervise.’

“How did you manage to get a copy of The Gate? I couldn’t even get the pre-order before it sold out.” Elise, the librarian, asks. 

You smile into your coffee cup before responding. “Eh, I know a guy.”

“You do? I thought you didn’t date?”

“I don’t.” You nod. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t have connections.”

“Well whoever your ‘connection’ is, send them my way when you're done with him.”

You pretend to ponder before answering, “I’ll think about it.”

Snapping your book shut, you rise to gather the kids to return back to class. It takes several minutes as a few refuse to join the line until their current chapter is finished and Kai pulls out the puppy dog eyes, begging to stay all day to finish his book. 

You corral them out the door with promises of more reading time on Friday if they behave well the rest of the week. Some roll their eyes but most nod enthusiastically at the opportunity to skip on their weekly quiz.

Unlocking the door, you unpack your things and find a basket of Valentine’s on your desk to be passed out. Almost all the kids receive at least one, some find two or even three heart shaped sugar cookies on their desk. Your heart squeezes when some of the students decide to divy up their cookies and gift them to the students who didn’t receive a note. 

The last cookie at the bottom of the basket has a note with your name on it and a message in the same swirly script as yesterday’s.

We go together like milk and cookies. - your secret admirer

As far as cheesy Valentine’s go, you’ve seen worse. But free snacks are free snacks and the confection tastes great dipped in your coffee.

Your fourth period class focuses on their worksheets, silently deciphering the reading and ticking of questions. You promised whatever group finished first with the most right answers gets a special Valentine treat; full sized candies and extra credit on Friday. 

Whatever it takes to keep them focused while you work through grading everything for your other classes.

You don’t notice the man waiting at the door until one of your kids greet their science teacher; a ripple of tiny ‘Hi, Mr. Kim!’s following. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Mingyu announces from the door. “But, ugh, the volunteer accidentally gave me this.”

“Oh! Thanks Min—Mr. Kim.” 

You take the can of orange soda from his hand and skim the note.

I have a ‘crush’ on you. - your secret admirer

None of the students can read the note from their seats but you and Mr. Kim look equally bashful. 

“What are you guys working on? Mingyu asks, hoping to diffuse the tension.

A cacophony of voice race to explain their assignment. Mingyu pretends to understand, smiling at their enthusiasm and grabbing a worksheet for himself. 

He plants himself in one of the tiny plastic chairs next to your desk meant for ten year olds rather than a grown man of his size. It’s comical the way his knees brush his chest and any small move across the slippery seat threatens to land him on the floor.

Reviewing the sheet, Mingyu announces, “Alright, how about if you guys finish your work before me, we can have a pizza party in my class on Friday?”

More screams bounce off the walls.

“You guys can’t finish if you’re talking to Mr. Kim,” you remind them.

The room descends into a cozy calm; the sound of pencils on paper, your keyboard clicks, and the soft jazz from the computer speakers blending together.

You don’t look up to grab the answer key from the corner of the desk, Mingyu huffing from his seat at being caught.

“No cheating,” you smirk under your breath.

“Creative strategy,” he argues.

Instead of answering you shake your head and continue to focus on your own tasks. 

Ten minutes and twenty emails later, two groups of students rise and approach your desk at the same time. 

“We finished first!”

“No, we did!”

“Guys,” you interrupt them. “I’ll grade them both and whoever has more right wins. Besides, Mr. Kim owes you a pizza party anyway.”

The entire class cheers at the news while Mingyu playfully pouts. Maybe if he hadn’t given up on his worksheet to snoop through the basket full of snacks on your bookshelf, he wouldn’t be eating his own words.

The second group of students to approach your desk ends up victorious. You mark down their candy orders to pick up on your weekly grocery shopping trip on Thursday night before sending them to back up their belongings so you can all head to the cafeteria.

“What’d you bring for lunch?” Mingyu asks as he walks with you to the teachers lounge to retrieve your lunch boxes.

“Pasta salad.”

“Wanna trade?” 

“What’d you bring?” you ask, handing him the black grocery bag you know carries his lunch.

“Pasta salad.”

You roll your eyes and kick the fridge shut.

—

After lunch you have another free period. The printing room is empty so you take advantage and make enough copies for the rest of the week. Perhaps Mingyu wasn’t wrong to bring you three boxes of paper.

Lugging the stack in hand, you turn down that hall only to find a familiar face standing guard outside your classroom.

“Arin? Why are you in the hallway? You should be in class.”

“I was just…going to the bathroom!”

“Really? Because there's a bathroom right outside Mrs. Lee’s classroom if I remember correctly.”

“It was gross!”

Considering Mrs. Lee’s classroom sits on the main hallway and intersects with two other grades, it probably looked more akin to a battlefield than a restroom at this time of day.

“Okay…but hurry back. And I’m gonna let Mrs. Lee know what took you so long so she isn’t worried.” 

You side step around her but she moves right into your path. And then again. And again.

“Arin, what are you doing?” 

“Sorry, Ms. y/l/n. I don’t feel good. Can you walk me to the nurse?”

Crouching to her height, you rest the back of your hand against her forehead. Arin never admits she doesn’t feel well even when she’s tinged green and hacking up a lung. It’s the perfect admission to keep you from peering past the threshold of your classroom and blowing the entire operation.

Until a loud crash and high pitched scream breaks the silence of the hallway.

You jump back up.“What the—”

“Wait!” Arin shouts, throwing her arms and legs wide to block your path like a three foot tall ‘X’.

“Arin, what is going on?” 

“Mr. Kim said animals make themselves bigger to be scarier,” Arin says, tiny face scowling.

“And why are you trying to scare me?” 

Another bang echoes out the classroom forcing you to pick the little girl up by her armpits and carry her inside with you. She slips from your hold as you stare with a wide mouth at the scene. A desk is pulled up to the board allowing Hana to balance atop it as she scribbles across the chalkboard.

Wil you be my Valintin? - Mr. K

“Hana! What are you doing?”

“Arin!” Hana huffs indignantly.

Arin opens her mouth to respond but the look on your face silences both girls. You help Hana down from the desktop before crossing your arms in front of you and taking a deep breath.

“Sit. Now.”

They trudge to the seats next to your desk; heads hung low, tears brimming in their eyes. Neither has been on the receiving end of such a reprimand before; they’re usually your best behaved students.

You allow them to stew in silence as you right the two chairs Hana knocked over. She doesn’t look injured which is a relief but your nerves are shot from the perplexing situation. Hana and Arin can be troublemakers but they’ve never done anything like this before.

Once you're certain the urge to yell at them is quelled you approach your desk and take a seat. You watch them expectantly. Arin chances a glance up and swiftly looks back to her lap while Hana focuses on the picture at the edge of your desk, blinking away tears.

“Girls,” you sigh. “What were you doing in here?”

“Ms. y/l/n,” Arin blubbers.

Presenting the tissue box, you wait several moments while they both dab their eyes and blow their noses before speaking again.

“We just thought…” Hana starts, glancing at the other girl.

“Thought what?”

“Mr. Kim’s in love with you and we wanted to help!”

“I see.” You nod. “Did Mr. Kim tell you that?”

They look at each other before shaking their heads ‘no.’

Your temple throbs from the situation. A measured breath through your nose sends the girls into a frenzy.

“We can tell!”

“You’re perfect for eachother!”

“And did Mr. Kim ask you to sneak into my classroom while I wasn’t here?”

“No ma’am,” they mumble in unison.

It dawns on you that the two girls have been behind all the gifts you’ve received this week.“Are you two behind all the Valentine’s I’ve gotten?”

“We were just trying to help!” cries Arin.

Moving to crouch in front of them, you wait until they both look up at you.

“It’s very sweet what you were trying to do and I’m sorry I yelled at you. But you can’t sneak out of class. What if something happened and you got hurt climbing the table?”

“I’m sorry,.” Hana says.

“Me too.” 

You pass them more tissues to wipe their noses.

“How about we get you two back to class?”

“But what about Mr. Kim?”

“Yeah! He needs to know how you feel.”

“That’s between Mr. Kim and I. Understand? Those are grown up things.”

The repulsion painting their faces forces you to bite back a snort. Instead you offer your hands, pinkies extended towards them both.

“How ‘bout this? I promise to talk to Mr. Kim if you two promise no more meddling. Okay?”

All three of you share a smile as you intertwine their pinkies with your own. 

“Now,” you say whilst jumping to your feet. “You are supposed to be in Mrs. Lee’s class. And you are supposed to be at the library.”

Escorting them both back to where they belong, they can’t help but giggle when you pass Mr. Kim’s room and he waves. The question is clear on his face but you shrug your shoulders. 

You’ll explain everything later.

You smile knowingly at the corner of the classroom where two little cupids sit as the volunteer brings you a lollipop with a note reading ‘I’m a sucker for you.’

Part of you feels guilty they pooled their own money together to supply you and the teacher next door with treats all week in an effort to play matchmaker. But another part can’t help but laugh. And when you get the chance to tell Mingyu what they’ve planned you’ll no doubt laugh harder.

But because the universe somehow knows you lied to your students the day prior you find your reckoning in the cafeteria.

It was Mingyu’s fault. Or at least that’s what you argue. You barely made it three steps inside the room before the large man bulldozes you; sending his lunch and your own down your fronts in a palette of greens and browns.

His eyes widen in horror as a slice of tomato peels off your shirt and flops to the floor. “I am so sorry!”

“Seriously?” you choke.

The entire school watches with baited breath. Students and teachers alike watch with abject horror as you skirt around the taller man and flee with shaking shoulders and your chin dipped into your chest. Mingyu gapes like a fish as you run by, frozen in place. As hundreds of eyes settle on him, he realizes they all saw how he drenched you in salad and coffee. 

Mrs. Lee dismisses him with a nod, silently agreeing to watch his class so he can trapeze out to his car and find something suitable to wear.

—

Mingyu watches the game of kickball unfold across the field, keeping an eye on the rowdier students as they pick teams. But even from a distance he recognizes one face is notably absent.

He finds Kai slumped on a bench at the far corner of the playground using a stick to draw lines in the dirt at his feet.

“Hey, buddy. You feeling okay?” Mingyu asks. 

Kai never misses a game of kickball. Even when his arm was in a cast at the beginning of the year, he insisted he only needed one good arm to play defense and neither to play offense. Kai’s mom simply laughed at Mingyu’s concerned email and said her son was exactly like his dad and there was no stopping him if he was set on something.

So to have the little curly haired boy isolated on the far edge of the field is serious cause for concern.

Kai looks up briefly at Mingyu’s approach before returning to his mud art. “Mr. Kim, have you ever liked someone?”

“Liked someone?” Mingyu drops onto the bench next to him.

“Like,” the little boy inhales trying to explain himself. “Like a girl?”

Mingyu snuffs out his chuckle at Kai’s innocent question. “Yeah, why do you ask? Do you like a girl?”

“I–My friend does!”

“Okay,” Mingyu nods.

“And he doesn’t know how to tell her.”

“Well that's tough.” 

“How’d you tell the girl you liked?”

“Well,” Mingyu drops to a whisper. “Once upon a time, I had a crush on this girl. And she was the prettiest girl I ever saw. Smart and funny too.”

“Did she run fast?”

The question confuses Mingyu at first but then he remembers he’s talking to a ten year old and the rules of attraction hinge on who gets the swing the highest and jumps off.

“She ran really fast,” he nods. “And she made me so nervous I couldn’t talk to her. My palms got all sweaty and my face turned red.”

“That happens to m—I mean my friend!”

“And it feels like there's a bunch of frogs jumping around your stomach?”

“Yeah,” Kai nods. “So how’d you tell her?”

“Well one day, I finally decided to introduce myself. Walked right up to her, opened my mouth and…poof.”

“Poof?”

“Poof.” Mingyu hangs his head. “I forgot everything I was gonna say to her.”

“What happened after that?”

“She waited a few minutes and then said ‘okay, I’ll meet you at 6:30 for dinner.’”

“She knew you liked her?”

Mingyu nods gravely before imparting his most sage wisdom. “Girls are very smart, Kai.”

“So I should try and tell her I like her?”

“Your friend should at least try,” Mingyu shrugs.

Kai blushes, having been clearly caught. “But what if she doesn’t like him back?”

“That’s okay. It just wasn’t meant to be.”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim. You’re the best!”

“You’re welcome, buddy.” Mingyu gives him a fist bump before shooing him back towards his friends. “Now go play kickball, the boys need your help.”

Kai runs off but a new presence fills the vacant seat on the bench. 

“I thought we agreed to keep our romantic life a secret at work.”

Mingyu smiles sheepishly before turning to look at you. “Oh, you heard that?” 

“Yeah, I heard,” you smile. “They already think you have a crush on me.”

“Smart kids.” He says, enjoying the way the worn sage button up swallows your figure. 

Mingyu loves when you wear his clothes, he told you this morning when you stole his favorite jacket. Which is why you both took almost twenty minutes to gain your composure after he spilled an entire tray of food on you. 

Mingyu swears he didn’t do it on purpose. How could he have known you were coming through the door at that very moment? But he’d do it again if it meant seeing you in one of the spare shirts he keeps in the truck again. Even if it meant he’d also sustain minor coffee burns.

“They think I have a crush on you too.”

You watch the way he traces your collar bone, catching the twinkle of the diamond pendant resting at the hollow of your throat; his birthstone. It was the first piece of jewelry he bought you when you started dating almost a decade ago. 

You hadn’t taken it off since the day he gave it to you with shaky hands and red ears.

“Do you?” He asks.

“Do I, what?”

“Have a crush on me?”

“Oh Gyu,” you coo at him. “I have the fattest crush on you.”

“Damn right you do.”

Sitting outside with an entire audience of other teachers and students doesn’t allow either of you to fall into the familiar comfort of adorning kisses or airtight hugs. But Mingyu’s pinky brushing yours in the ample space between your figures is enough for now.

Friday is Valentine’s day which means all the kids don red and pink outfits and prepare for a day of candy filled fun. You spent all morning helping the art teacher set up paint stations. Why she cashed in on the long owed favor with such a simple task was beyond you but the monotony is a nice change from the chaos you’ve experienced all week. When second period rolls around, you shuffle back to your classroom; welcomed by the line of students waiting outside your locked door. 

“I swear! I saw Mr. Kim and Ms. y/l/n at the grocery store last night.”

“Hana, Ms. y/l/n said its grown up business. Maybe you just saw people that look like them,” Arin shrugs. “And I don’t wanna get in trouble again.”

“It had to be them!”

They quiet down as they walk past your figure, smiling like cherubs when you greet them.

Students file in one by one, shrill voices echoing from excitement. Most cheer about their pizza party with Mr. Kim later that afternoon, a few squeals about the set of Valentine’s their parents sent with them to handout. 

Your ears catch a few other snippets of conversation as you wait for the stragglers to make it by. 

“Oh my gosh those are so pretty!”

“Those look like the flowers my mommy likes!”

Curiosity gets the better of you, forcing you to step into the room and see what the kids are talking about. 

An explosion of pink camellias resting on your desk. Huge blossoms with pale pink petals spill over the sides of the vase, slips of greenery sprinkled throughout. Approaching your desk, the floral aroma fills your nose. The blooms feel like soft velvet under the pad of your finger tracing the largest one in the center of the arrangement.

Who on earth?

As if on cue a mop of black hair peaks in from the hall. Mingyu eyes the bouquet and the pleased look on your face before allowing his own to break into his infamous smile.

“Just wanted to make sure they got here safe,” he calls.

You whip your head up, eyes wide and mouth open at the can of worms he just spilled.

“What?” Mingyu asks innocently. “Can’t a man buy his fiancee flowers?”

He disappears with a wink but his laughter at the chaos he’s stirred up can be heard miles away.

“MISS Y/L/N YOU’RE MARRIED?” Mark screams.

Another shrill voice answers, “Fiancee means they’re almost married, idiot!” 

“You lied to us!” Arin and Hana chorus.

Dropping into your chair, you hide your burning face in your hands. Coincidentally it also hides your shy grin from the hoard of ten year olds jumping in their seats at the news.Mingyu is in so much trouble.

A few weeks before the new school year starts, a group of nearly eleven year olds crowd into the pews of the massive church at the center of town. Stained glass reflects patterns over the marble floors, casting them in a rainbow of colors. 

Some sit on their hands to calm the adrenaline pumping through their tiny veins. Others rock back and forth in an effort to watch Mr. Kim strut down the aisle in a fancy looking suit. 

But all of them gasp when you turn the corner.

You look like a real life princess in your wedding dress, floating towards their science teacher waiting at the altar with tears and a smile matching your own.

When you and Mr. Kim kiss, the girls squeal and the boys blush.

Several rows ahead sits a small group of older students, who’ve long graduated elementary school and are headed to college in a few days. They exchange satisfied smiles and pat themselves on the back for getting their favorite fourth grade teachers together all those years ago.

Maybe now your new classes won’t try playing Cupid like they do every year given Mr. Kim finally married their favorite teacher.

-

Fic taglist: @tacosandbitch @leechanniee @syprosight @prettygyuuu @itza-meee @cottoncheol @ashluvy @jkslvsnella @xuimhao @vanishingboots @miujunhui @viciousdarlings @imprettyweird @akeminy @sana-is-ms-rmty @jayfrvr @watermelonsugawara @bouclesdefeu

Permanent taglist:

@cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @tomodachiii @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @gyuguys @primoppang @mine-gyu

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[klipkillakai]

|pt 2|

humming the smooth melodies of jhené aiko’s music, you slowly walk down the aisles of the bookstore, picking up books and looking at the back reading the synopsis, this morning you woke up and decided you wanted to go to the mall..

usually you go with your bestie but she’s been in florida all week, so you decided to go by yourself, this was a little anxiety inducing but you went straight to your safe haven.. barnes and nobles.. where you can pick any escape you want

you decided you wanted to pick up some romance novels, it probably having to do with it being february and your new found crush but your gonna be delusional and pretend that’s not the case..

you think about him as you look through the books, you haven’t seen him at school all week and you feel worried? it’s odd because you wouldn’t have noticed before but now it’s different..

you haven’t attempted to text him out of fear, but you notice he hasn’t texted you either, it hurts a bit and deep down you can’t help but feel like it was too good to be true..

you shake the thoughts away and collect your books and head to the cashier..

connie silently follows the guards as they lead him out to intake, he’d been locked up the past few, some bullshit about a warrant.. he knew that was a lie.. he knew they needed to get him on something, but unfortunately for them he has one the best lawyers in the country..

he smiles when the guard roughly uncuffs him, muttering for him to get dressed.. the guards leave and immediately he shoves off the jumpsuit wrapped around his waist pulling on his cargos and tee he was last in, he opens the ziplock baggie with his phone in it, calling his employee, he tucks the phone between his ear and shoulder and laces up his shoes

“sir?”

“im out, send the car”

connie hangs up and shoves the phone in his pocket along with his keys and wallet and zips up his jacket, before pressing the button notifying he was done changing—

——————————————————————————

you hop off the bus, and start walking back to your house, you carry the few bags of things you bought and shiver at the bite of the cold

“oh nah” you whisper and start to walk a bit faster

a few blocks in you feel the urge to look behind you, you peep a hellcat going slow down the street but you don’t recognize it exactly, you think that’s odd so you keep walking silently keeping note, starting to feel paranoid you turn around again and it’s still following you.. not knowing what to do you keep walking faster until the car finally pulls up next to you and rolls down the window, you prepare to tell the whoever in the car off until you hear

“hey mama”

you stop dead in your tracks and turn to look at the man you’ve been thinking about this whole week

“connie?”

you walk closer to the car and he puts it in park and gets out, before leaning on the door, he smiles

“you missed me?”

wanting to say yes you shrug and say

“where you been? i haven’t seen you at school since last week”

he slowly slides his hands in his pockets and looks at you for a beat and says

“i was locked up, got pulled over on a warrant or sumn, but i got out quick because they had nothing to stand on”

you brows slightly furrow “jail? what kind of warrant did they say it was?”

connie slowly walks closer to you and, softly grabs the bags from your hand and nods towards his car..

“cmon, take a ride wit me real quick”

he goes around the other side of the car opening the door, before you slip inside, he places the bags on your lap and mutters a “seatbelt” and shuts the door quickly walking around to his side and looking around before slipping in the car, the car starts and plays loud drill music before he quickly turns it down and pulls off..

“you didn’t answer my question..” you say softly looking at him

his jaw ticks for a second and his thumb taps the wheel, “ion want you to worry about that aight?” he shoot’s a lazy look towards you..

“should i worry about it” he shakes his head no and you ask..

“is it gonna happen again?” he softly licks his lips and says “i’m gonna make sure it doesn’t”

you look in his eyes as he says that and you get the slightest flash of something sinister behind them, that erupts butterflies in your belly and you softly squeeze your thighs together

“okay” you whisper, and he looks at you again with a slight smile..

after 20 mins of driving you finally ask with a little laugh “where we going?” he pulls up to a parking garage entrance and pulls in before saying

“my crib” your heart skips a beat and, your feel yourself get a bit hot.. “oh” you whisper

“is that okay?” he asks with a teasing smile, pulling into a parking space, “yea i just didn’t expect that”

“don’t worry your safe, your always safe wit me”

you look up at him with a bright smile, and connie nearly wants to fall to his knees, he looks at the brightness in your eyes before it quickly lowers to your lips and he looks away, almost wanting to laugh at how smitten you’ve gotten him..

he opens your door, taking your hand and you walk away hearing the car lock, he leads you to an elevator, and he presses the fob to the button and presses the 10th floor..

you feel his thumb softly go back and forth on the back of your hand “you cold?” he says softly and you nod.. “i could tell when you were outside” he shrugs off his big carthartt jacket and drapes it over your shoulder.. the elevator dings and he pulls you into the hallways stopping at his apartment door, pulling out his keys, unlocking it and nodding you inside

you walk through the door looking around, it smells just like him, the fresh masculine smell, slightly twinged with weed, he kicks he shoes off and you do the same, pulling off your hot pink crocs and neatly placing them next to his shoes…

“so did you just get home today?”

“yea a few hours ago actually, i haven’t been home in a week, i fucking missed it” he pulls off his hoodie causing his shirt to lift under it and you catch a glimpse of his happy trail.. you want to scream because you find that so attractive but you look away fighting back a smile..

you walk further into the seemingly large apartment, looking around at the masculine decor, the black couches and large tv mounted on the wall, you slowly turn and notice a book shelf, you slowly walk towards it, hearing connie in the back opening a fridge.. you graze your fingers on the books about finance, stock investing… and your finger stops on a book about secret society’s.. you look back at connie before you keep scanning the books.. others filled law.. others about cars and guns…

“you like to read?” you ask connie

“that’s how i learn, knowledge is power” connie says as he stands behind you, slowly dragging his hand up your arm.. then slowly moving your braids to one side.. and dragging his lips up your neck inhaling your sent at the same time..

you let out a slow breath.. and you feel his large hands slowly press against your lower belly, and you feel heat slowly pool there..

“your so beautiful you know that?”

you softly smile.. “sometimes i don’t”

he softly pause before slowly turning your face towards his.. “i’m gonna ensure you do”

he looks in your eyes for a beat before letting your face go, “im gonna hop in the shower rq, then we’re gonna dip aight?”

you let a breath “mhm” you nod for reassurance and he smiles a bit before turning around and walking down the hall..

——————————————————————————

10 mins later you sitting on his couch tapping through stories.. you start to think about who connie is.. he got out of jail today and you still have yet to know what.. and.. and that phone call! the last time you were in the car together he told you the same thing “don’t worry about it” do you trust him enough to not worry about it? are you going to let curiosity kill the cat?

you hear the bathroom door open cutting your thoughts short, you look up at connie.. the towel wrapped around his waist, water droplets rolling down his abs.. gold chain dangling around his neck.. and his tattoos.. god you love his tattoos.. a snake winding around his arm.. a cross on the side of his neck and a large chest and back piece..

“i can feel you staring pretty girl”

you immediately look away feeling your body heat up from embarrassment.. he laughs a bit and shakes his head.. “it’s okay.. i stare too” you softly turn towards him and look in his eyes.. “i really like your tattoos”

“oh yeah?” “yeah” you whisper back shyly and he smiles at that, connie likes making you nervous.. he likes catching you stare and that little dazed look on your face..

“your gonna come wit me to pick sumn up, and we gon get food after or sumn aight?”

“you know.. you never ask.. you just tell” you say with a teasing smile..

“would you like me to ask? even if i knew the answer already”

“what makes you think i’ll say yes?”

“you haven’t said no yet..”

“maybe i will”

“well let me know when you decide to do that”

you roll your eyes and connie slightly smirks before walking into his room and changing clothes, he goes into his closet looking behind him before grabbing his piece and tucking it his pants, he covers it with his shirt and grabs a thick jacket and pulls on his timbs..

he sprays some of his cologne and slips on his rings and opens his nightstand and grabs his other phone slipping it in his pocket and leaving..

he walks out the room and sees you still patiently waiting on the couch, hearing your nails tap against the screen.. “cmon mama”

he watches your pretty head snap up, you quickly hop up, pulling up your pink sweatpants and rounding the couch walking towards him..

he grabs your hand and you walk out the door together, heading to the elevator and eventually ending up in the parking garage again, this time getting into a different car, he quickly pulls out, nodding to the security guard and pulling into the street..

he zooms pass other cars as he picks up his phone from the cup holder, calling someone..

he looks around before he turns, and starts to speak

“im pulling up, have it ready” soon after he pulls into a warehouse building, you hear his tires crackle against the the gravel and a man stands there holding a large black duffel bag, connie rolls down the window, dapping the man up before reaching down and opening his trunk, silently plopping the back the trunk and shutting it, without another word he begins to walk inside, connie pulls out the driveway pulling out into the street again..

you almost open your mouth to ask what’s in the bag but you choose not too, do you really want to know? do you need to know? it seems connie doesn’t think you do.. so you stay quiet..

connie softly looks over to you.. “whatchu want to eat?” you smile a bit thinking about it “mmm i dunno you pick” he shrugs and smiles “i don’t care about what i eat, i’ve been eating prison food for a week”

you think about it, and you smile getting an idea “let me cook for you” connie slightly pauses and looks over at you, his heart slightly soars and he says “forreal?” “mhm” you nod and connie looks at you with an amused expression on his face, like there’s an inside joke he’s having with himself..

“aight, bet” he quickly makes a u-turn zooming pass cars and soon after pulls into a whole foods.. he parks and nods for you to get out too, you walk hand in hand inside the store and you grab a basket quickly pulling on his hand, leading him to where you need to go..

you stand in the aisle looking at different types of beans as connie stands close behind you, softly rubbing your back “what are you making?”

“rice and beans with jerk chicken” he groans softly and whispers “sheesh” you smile and continue shopping, quickly grabbing all the ingredients and heading to self check out, connie helps scan and pays of course and you quickly put the bags in the car and head back to his place..

the tv is playing in the back as you cut up vegetables, the meat is already marinating in the fridge, and your just focusing on the rice and beans at this point, connie is standing next to you washing the rice..

connie loves this, cooking with someone, allat wifey shit.. that gets him bad, he hears you giggle at a joke from the show and he smiles, when you proposed the idea of cooking for him he almost fell in love with you on the spot, he likes that wifey shit because he knows he can match that energy by providing, he’s always wanted to be that.. a provider.. it’s just in his nature, he knows dudes who want a wife but act like bums when the opportunity arises, nah he’s gon take care of you back.. always.

he finishes cooking the rice and looks over to you “you need me to do something else?” you finish giggling at the joke and shake your head no “no thank you” you say sweetly.. and he nods before pressing a kiss to your cheek.. “i’m gonna be in my room aight?” “mhm” you nod and he walks down the hallway as you cook..

an hour later your rolling balls of cookie dough and placing them on the baking sheet in front of you, you hear the door open and connie’s comes out the room, he changed into grey sweats and a wife beater he smells the kitchen “damn it’s smells good in here”

you smile and grab the sheet, placing it in the oven and go to the sink to rinse your hands off “we can eat the food is done, i was just making some cookies”

he walks behind you, reaching up grabbing two plates and forks handing them to you, you go over to the pots on the stove and start making his plate..

“you eat alot? you ask and he walks up behind you softly rubbing your lower back “mhm” he hums and you start to put more rice and another piece of chicken and you hand him his plate before making yours..:

you end up on his couch, he puts on a movie and you start to eat.. “you wanna smoke?” he asks and you smile “you stay trynna get me high” he laughs and shakes his head before reaching on his coffee table, grabbing a box and starting to roll up, he sparks it and hits it before passing it to you, you pass it back and forth until your both faded and you start eating

connie takes his first bite and groans softly, pointing and nodding at the food “this is so fucking good mama” you smile knowing that it’s good and you take your fist bite “shiiit” you say and you both laugh high asf..

you talk and eat for the rest of the evening, you open up about yourselves, telling each other things about your insecurities, your outlook on life.. who you want to be as people, and that draws you closer, you both begin to understand that your just people that want love, and company and support.. and that connects with both of you, both of you falling deeper and deeper and not even realizing it..

you and connie cuddle, both wrapped around each other eating the warm cookies fresh out the oven, the high still hitting, you feel his hand softly rub small circles on your hips, and you feel butterflies erupt in your belly, and heat slowly trickling down..you softly adjust yourself, and connie notices looking down, he softly smiles and against his better judgement he slides his palm down, softly rubbing your lower belly, his pinkie lightly grazing under the waistband on your sweats and you softly bite your lip..

you reach back softly, and rub his hand on your belly, softly rubbing it, connie softly presses a kiss to your cheek, slowly moving down to your neck, nipping and sucking softly, your eyes lower and you shudder, you softly turn around, sitting up and connie follows,

you slowly climb on his lap, and his hands immediately finds your waist, you both hold eye contact only breaking it it look at each others lips,he leans in looking up at you for consent, you softly nod and he captures your lips in a kiss, you kiss him back the kiss is slow and sensual, as if your both making a map, slowly figuring each other out.. his tongue grazes your lower lip and you open your mouth , you tongues now dancing around each other, you slowly roll your hips into his his, and that sends a sharp shiver down your spine.. you almost gasp at it..

he hands slides up your chest and up to your neck, grabbing it and squeezing it, pulling you closer, the pace of the kiss becoming faster, more passionate..he softly pulls back softly biting your lip before kissing you again.. you wrap your arms around his neck, your nails grazing against the nape of his neck, causing him to shudder and his bulge under you twitching, this slightly intimidates you.. your a virgin and all of this is new to you.. your just going with the flow.. but damn does it feel good.. it feels better than any words you’ve ever read when reading your silly little romance novels.. even better than when you touch yourself late at night..

you slowly pull away, a string of saliva connecting you both, not wanting you to separate, his eyes are low and filled with lust.. he leans back and groans softly rubbing your ass “you gonna drive me crazy mama” your face heats and you smile “yeah?” you whisper sweetly while you softly rub his chest..

he watches you, and you lean in, laying your head on his chest, he softly rubs your back.. this combined with the weed and food, starts making you sleepy, your eyes begin to lower and connie notices..

“you can sleep baby, i’ll drop you off later” you sleepily nod and you feel connie pull a blanket over you and press a kiss to your forehead.. and you drift off to sleep, feeling safe and warm..

|a/n|

yalll! did you miss me?? hehehe i don’t think you guys understand the bull i just went through!!! tumblr dead deleted half my draft! i’m officially traumatized guys! i see why you guys write in word or like google docs or sumn! but i just wanted to say thank you for over 1000 notes on soft thug 1!! like ermmm i did NOT expect that thank you so much guys!! ily 🩷

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