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amirasainz · 2 days ago
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hi! Could you maybe do something like reader is Lando's baby sister and it's her first time at a GP so he shows her off to all the drivers?
Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!
- xoxo babygirl 🧡
Proud big brother
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Lando was bouncing with excitement as he led his six-year-old sister, Y/N, through the paddock at the Silverstone Grand Prix. It was her first time attending a race weekend, and he was beyond thrilled to have her here. He'd been talking about it for weeks, sending her little videos of the track, the car, and the crowd. He’d told her everything he could think of to help her understand what a race weekend was like.
Today, though, seeing her tiny hand in his, wide-eyed with awe as she looked around, he felt a mix of pride and protectiveness. He was determined to make this the best day ever for her.
Lando grinned as they entered the McLaren garage, and his engineer shot him a look of amusement, clearly surprised to see him accompanied by someone so small.
“Y/N, meet the team!” Lando gestured with a grand sweep of his hand. “These guys keep my car fast and safe.”
Y/N looked around with big eyes, giving a shy wave, which earned a couple of chuckles from the engineers.
Just then, Lando spotted Carlos walking by, and his face lit up. “Oh! Y/N, you have to meet Carlos.” He crouched down beside her, whispering, “He used to be my teammate, and he's one of the nicest guys on the grid.”
Y/N’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as Carlos approached, his expression softening immediately when he saw the young girl.
“Hola, Y/N!” Carlos crouched down to her level, extending his hand for a handshake. “I’m Carlos. I've heard so much about you already, niña"
Y/N giggled and shook his hand with both of hers, looking up at Lando as if to say, isn’t he cool?
Lando chuckled, ruffling her hair. “You know, Carlos is really fast too, just like me.”
“Like a race car?” she asked, eyes widening as she looked back at Carlos.
Carlos laughed. “Exactly like a race car. Maybe even faster than Lando.”
“Oh, we’ll see about that,” Lando teased, giving Carlos a playful nudge.
As they chatted, the crowd around them started to notice the heartwarming scene. Cameras from media outlets and phones of fans began focusing on the Norris siblings. Lando noticed the flashing cameras and shifted uncomfortably, glancing down at Y/N, who was too enthralled with Carlos’s explanation of “how to go fast” to notice.
Oscar walked over, intrigued by the gathering. “Who’s this?” he asked, bending down to give Y/N a warm smile.
Lando's eyes sparkled with pride. “This is my little sister, Y/N.”
Oscar’s face lit up as he crouched beside her. “Hi, Y/N. I’m Oscar.”
Y/N looked up at Oscar, studying his soft hair, and before anyone could say a word, she reached out and began gently petting his head as if he were a small animal. She tilted her head, seemingly fascinated by the texture.
Oscar froze for a second, clearly surprised, but then he let out a soft laugh. “Guess I have soft hair, huh?”
Carlos burst out laughing, clapping Lando on the shoulder. “Looks like you’ve got some competition here, Lando. She’s already got a favorite driver.”
Lando’s face flushed, caught between amusement and a sudden urge to shield his sister from all the cameras and teasing.
“Y/N, don’t bother him too much,” he said gently, giving her a small, protective smile. “Oscar needs to save his energy for racing.”
Y/N giggled and looked back at Oscar, who just winked at her, clearly enjoying the attention. Lando could feel the eyes of the media zooming in on their little interaction, the moment drawing attention from fans and reporters alike.
Max strolled over, smirking when he saw the scene. “So, this is the famous Y/N I’ve heard so much about?”
Y/N looked up, wide-eyed. “You’re the one who’s always beating Lanno!” she said with innocent frankness, making all the drivers burst into laughter.
Lando groaned, covering his face with one hand. “Thanks, Y/N. I feel the love.”
Max chuckled, bending down so he was eye-level with her. “You know, it’s only because I have more experience,” he explained, trying to keep a straight face. "And because I'm just a bit better than he is right now," he teased gently.
Y/N tilted her head, looking from Max to Lando. “Will you beat him, Lanno?”
Lando nodded, trying to sound confident, though he was smiling at her earnest expression. “Of course I will, Y/N. I’m going to win a championship one day.”
Y/N’s face lit up with excitement, and she threw her arms around him. “You’re my favorite driver, Lanno!”
The other drivers couldn’t help but chuckle at the sweet interaction. Charles had joined the group by now, observing everything with an amused smile.
“Don’t worry, Lando,” Charles teased, folding his arms. “Y/N’s loyalty clearly lies with you.”
“Yeah, for now,” Carlos chimed in, smirking as he watched her go back to petting Oscar’s hair. “But give her a couple more races with us, and she might just change her mind.”
Lando rolled his eyes, but there was a smile tugging at his lips. He gently tugged Y/N’s hand, leading her away from Oscar. “Alright, alright, don’t get too comfortable with my teammates. You’re here to support me, remember?”
Y/N nodded, but her attention was soon stolen by a nearby display of miniature cars in the McLaren hospitality area. She tugged on Lando’s sleeve, pointing at them with wide, sparkling eyes.
“Oh! Look, Lanno! Tiny race cars!”
Lando chuckled, letting her excitement distract him from his nerves about the media coverage. “Want to pick one out? Maybe we can find one that looks like my car.”
As she eagerly examined the toy cars, the other drivers exchanged grins, clearly entertained by Lando’s newfound protective side.
“Just wait until she wants to attend all the races,” Charles teased, nudging Lando. “You’ll be too busy babysitting to focus.”
“Right, and she’ll be rooting for Oscar,” Max added, giving Lando a playful shove.
Lando gave them all a playful glare. “You all wish,” he shot back. “She’s my number one fan, right, Y/N?”
Y/N looked up, clutching a toy car that she’d chosen. “Yep! Lanno is the best driver in the world!”
All the drivers exchanged looks of amusement, sharing a laugh, but Lando’s expression softened as he glanced down at his little sister. She didn’t understand the rivalry, the pressure, or the spotlight. To her, he was simply her big brother.
And in that moment, as he held her hand and watched her excitement, he realized that he wouldn’t trade this for anything.
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lumibuns-blog · 2 days ago
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Can’t stop thinking about how much Simon “Ghost” Riley loves his American girlfriend.
Unlike the other 141 boys he wouldn’t poke fun at you or tease you about the different words you use. Kyle loves to correct you,
“Whens the soccer game on tonight?”
“Its football love, not soccer, ‘cause you kick the ball.”
“You kick the ball in American football as well.”
“Yeah but...ours is better”
Johnny’s a tease
“Have you seen my swimming suit?”
“You wear a suit to go swimming?”
“I’m not calling it a costume”
“Well it sure as hell isn’t a bloody suit”
Even Price gets in on it by pretending not to hear you,
“Can you grab some chips from the kitchen?”
“Hm? Sorry dear can’t hear ya’”
“Grab me some chips!”
“Gunna’ have'ta repeat that”
“....crisps”
“There ya’ go, really outta speak up more sweetheart”
Never mind the fact he was right beside you on the couch.
But Simon, Simon is different. Never once has he corrected or teased you, to the point where its become a bit of a hindrance.
“Can you stop by the gas station on your way home?”
And he’ll just stare at you, an almost blank expression on his face, only the fidgeting of his fingers give way to what he’s thinking.
“The petrol shop Si’”
“Right.” 
Is it because he doesn’t care? Or maybe he’s too frightened he’ll scare you away if he corrects you? Whatever it is he’ll never say, but one thing is for certain, he’s absolutely elated when you start to pick up the British dialect.
You tell people your boyfriend is a leftenant instead of a luitenant and he’s looking at you like you hung the very stars in the sky.
Ask for a “wife beater” while pointing at the bottles of Stella Artois in his fridge and he swears his heart just skipped a beat (despite the crude connotations of the nickname)
Ask him to pick up ‘Maccies for you bolth on the way home and he almost causes a 20 car pileup because he has to hide his burning face.
Tell him you like the black jumper he’s wearing and theres three more in the online cart already.
And when you start swearing like a “proper brit” he’s ready to get down on one knee. He hears you mutter “bloody hell” from across the flat as you listen to news report an expected  10cm of rain for today and for the first time in his life he’s thanking god Manchester is such a dreary place.
You’ve become part of his life, he hadn’t scared you off, you hadn’t gotten tired of him. You wanted to be here, you wanted him. You’ve been here long enough to pick it up, you’ve spent enough time together even your words are beginning to match each other, and theres nothing in the world that could make him happier. So he’ll never once correct you or tease you when you ask to go on a vacation even if he’s blindly nodding along to your requests and scurrying off to the bathroom later to look it up and figure out you wanted to go on holiday with him. Cursing under his breath while he fishes his phone from the sink because he dropped it in his shock at the revelation you wanted to go on holiday with him. Give him two days and he’s already bought the tickets
Sorry for the lack of posting! Schools been getting busy and I'm working on getting a draft of a book ready to send to a publisher so it's been a bit hectic but I absolutely love posting for you guys here on tumblr (srsly all your comments make my day) so I'm going to try and keep posting as regularly as I can! working on a longer chapter for my Ghost and Soap's roomie series rn so that should be out somewhat soon! thank you all so so much for your support.
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rafesfawn · 2 days ago
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đŸȘœđŸ§ș 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋
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đœ—à§Žâ‹†ïœĄËš when rafe sees a precious little doll on the side of the road with a broke-down car, how can he resist out of the kindness of his heart offering her a ride? just a ride home, that's all...
or how trailerpark!angel!reader and rafe met!
warnings: use of the nickname pet & little one, reader! is eighteen-nineteen! bit of perv!rafe, barely proofread!
a/n: first time writing a rafe fic/blurb! im so excited, also this is based on this ask and thank you so much for sending something I really appreciated it and I hope u like it mwah! I would say you two meet in like early season 2 (right before the cross storyline) also for the format slight ib to others on here esp @rafesangelita (sorry for the tag!)
this was based off of this ask! which tysm i literally love requests and rafe and trailerpark!angel!reader is my new obsession <3
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a small, meaningless kick was made to the tire while you huffed and groaned, putting two hands over your frustrated features as all you wanted to curl up into a ball and cry.
“piece of shit,” you mumbled under your breath, kicking the tire once more, but immediately a whimper fell from your lips. the pain shot from your toe up to your spine. making you sniffle and tip-toe in pain. in your denim ruffle skirt, white socks, and pink converse, you sat down on the asphalt, on the side of the road, leaning against the side of your broken-down car.
she wasn’t the best car, but she surely got you around most of the time. most of the time. it was a little volkswagen beetle, light pink in color, covered in so many stickers some wondered if it was passing inspection. it wasn't.
sitting with your head against the car for what felt like hours (it was maybe ten minutes), but spending even that on the side of a main road in kildare island was torture. especially with the beating sun late august provided.
rafe was speeding down the road on the way to play golf and get drunk with topper and kelce. “ah shit, i don’t know, man.” he said into his phone, holding it up with one hand; his voice gruff and confident, topper on the other line. “you really think i won’t kick your ass today huh?” a smirk grew on his already smug expression.
letting out a short chuckle at toppers response, nothing anybody ever said meant more than a laugh to him. or that's what it used to be like anyway, his act wasn't together if anything, it was worse than it'd ever been. his father condemning him to disingenuous "discipline" to forget about the possible death of his golden daughter.
"the fuck?" he mutters into the mic, his voice laced with confusion. as he sees up ahead on the road, a pink car broken down, with the most precious thing sitting against it. a pout on the angels soft lips and the most defeated look in her eye. aw, you just fell right into my lap, didn't you? little angel.
your eyes glued on the pavement, your entertainment of watching a little ladybug try to make it to safety in the distance, was shortly interrupted.
a nice black truck coming into view it came to such a short stop it almost took your breath away, the breaks slightly screeching at the haste. a tire replaced the spot the ladybug once was.
you stood brushing the dirt and gravel off the backsides of your pale thighs, left bare by the short fabric of your skirt.
the man stepped out of the truck. he was tall, and the sleeves of his polo looked like they were about to burst at the seams, not able to contain the biceps beneath. his features strong and statue-like, his deep sea eyes hidden behind the curtain bangs that hung over his forehead. a grin that seemed too genuine, too good to be true.
you removed your heart-shaped sunglasses, placing them on top of your head to see him more clearly. your possible savior, but he was anything but.
he stepped a bit closer, seeing the state of her already pretty beaten car, "having some car trouble?" rafe asked as if he wasn't stating the obvious.
you pretended he wasn't either as you nodded, the frown only slight now but still on your lips as your eyes remained looking up into his.
"aw.. poor thing we can't have that, what happened?" his voice, a mockery of sympathy. as he inspected the piece of shit car she loved so much. his care coming from a place of ownership, of burning ache or want.
still, in slight shock, you hadn't answered him, following behind him as he reopened the hood like he owned the car. not even realizing you'd been rude and not replied till he spoke again. "little one, i can't fix it if you don't tell me what's wrong." a heady mix of gentle and firm that made your mouth go dry and your head dizzy.
"oh- it's been on her last limb for like ever, i guess she finally called it quits... right on my way home." you said with a little sad laugh that rafe wanted to bottle the sound of and listen to on repeat. "and I really need to get home," you added fiddling with your fingers in front of you.
a sweet girl all out of options, rafe was so glad he was here to provide her with his help. "tell you what, I'll take you home and come back and fix this thing up for you, huh?" he offered, there goes his saturday plans he presumed. it'd be worth it. he told himself he'd make it worth it, with those shy eyes and the expression you carried like a lost puppy. you'd owe him he'd make sure to get something in return.
just like he figured, you shook your head. never wanting to accept such a grand favor. "I can't ask you to do that, I mean, I don't even know your name." nerves, curiosity, and a glint of something else tinged in your voice, so many wonders in that head as soon as his truck came to a stop for you. why? the only question running through your mind.
"It's rafe, can I help you out now?" his genuine grin turned almost smug at his own remark, brushing that bangs out his face, the effort pointless as they immediately fell back again.
you paused. picking at the already chipped white nail polish on your sore fingertips, a larger-rougher hand covered your own, stopping your movements with that firm gentleness he carried around her. you looked up at him, he was so much closer. the scent of some cologne that probably could pay your rent, and a tinge of smokey wood filled your senses.
"pet?" he questioned with an expecting tilt of his head, calling you that like it was the most natural thing in the world.
your body and mouth responding before giving another second for your brain or anxiety to think it over, you nodded. "can you please give me a ride home?" you hesitantly asked, it felt weird. getting help, and even asking for it felt foreign, he offered it so graciously like it was nothing.
looking down upon her, his grin turned genuine once again, his eyes seemed almost proud it was a soothing balm to her nervous heart. a rosy hue to her cheeks as his palm covered the side of her neck, making a few pats to the flesh before leading her to his truck.
you'd owe him. something he was sure you were ready for.
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theonottsbxtch · 12 hours ago
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MISS YOU BABY | MV1
an: i need a hug from max verstappen stat, based off this request! thank you for sending it :)
summary: max thought his girlfriend was missing his final race during his triple header, little did he know she'd planned to come and visit all along.
wc 3.6k
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The hotel room she was in was quiet.
She sat cross-legged on the bed in a dark hotel room that mirrored his, only three floors below, making sure he couldn’t see her surroundings. Her phone was propped up against a pillow, and Max’s face filled the screen, his hair still damp from the shower, tousled and messy. He looked worn-out but managed a small, tired smile just for her.
"I’m sorry, Max. I really tried to get time off, but there was just
 no way," she said, the fib slipping from her lips with surprising ease. "I wanted to be there with you. Especially now."
Max exhaled, leaning back against his headboard. “I know. It’s alright.” His voice softened. “I just miss you, is all. It’s been a rough couple of weeks.”
She nodded, biting the inside of her cheek, wishing she could reach through the screen and wrap her arms around him. "You’ll get through it, though. You always do."
"Doesn’t feel that way." He laughed, but it was brittle around the edges. “I feel like I’m letting everyone down. The team, the fans
 you.” His eyes searched the screen, as if he might find a solution hidden somewhere in her gaze.
"Never me." She leaned closer, her face so near to the camera that she could see her reflection in his eyes. "I’m so proud of you, Max. Always. No matter what."
For a moment, he just looked at her, his expression softening, and the tension she’d seen in his face for days seemed to melt, just a little. "I wish you were here," he murmured. "I swear, you’re the only thing that keeps me sane sometimes."
She swallowed, feeling her heart pull toward him with a force that was hard to resist. "Soon, I’ll be back with you. Just
 hold on a bit longer, okay?”
She gazed at his face on the screen, her heart swelling as she watched the way his eyes softened every time he looked at her. She knew he was tired and worn down, but in this moment, he looked at peace.
"I love you, Max," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.
He closed his eyes, letting the words wash over him, and when he opened them again, there was a warmth there that seemed to cut through the miles between them. "I love you, too," he replied, a little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "More than you know."
She tucked her hair behind her ear, feeling her cheeks flush, and nodded. "Get some sleep, alright? Big day tomorrow."
He grinned. "Yeah, yeah. You, too. Dream about me, okay?"
She laughed, rolling her eyes, but her heart skipped all the same. "Always. Goodnight, Max."
"Goodnight, love."
With a final smile, she ended the call, letting the screen go dark as she leaned back into the pillows, her heart fluttering with anticipation. She’d hardly been able to sleep on the plane ride here, and she could already tell tonight would be the same.
Still, the thought of finally seeing him in person tomorrow kept her too giddy to care. She’d surprise him at the track, slipping through the garage just as he arrived, or maybe even at breakfast if she could manage it without spoiling the surprise. Her mind spun with ideas, each more elaborate than the last, but all she really wanted was to see his face light up when he realised she was there.
Pulling the covers up to her chin, she let her eyes drift closed, replaying the moment over and over in her mind, savouring the thought of his reaction. She loved him fiercely, and she knew that being here—no matter how much of a secret she’d had to make it—was exactly where she was supposed to be.
As she finally began to drift off, her last thought was simple but bright, shining like a promise: Tomorrow, he’ll know.
And while she was glad she held onto the secret.
The following morning she wished she’d told him earlier.
She woke to the faint glow of her phone on the nightstand, her morning alarm. Blinking herself awake, she squinted at the screen and saw Max’s name, followed by the time—5:02 a.m.
Heading to the track early today. Miss you already, wish you were here.
She smiled, feeling that familiar warmth spreading through her chest. But then her heart sank a little. She’d been hoping to catch him in the hotel this morning, maybe surprise him over breakfast. Now, with him already gone, she'd have to adjust her plans.
Throwing back the covers, she got up and went to the window. Rain streaked down the glass in thick, heavy drops, and the sky was a murky grey. The weather was only supposed to get worse throughout the day; she knew that’d make things complicated, especially for an outdoor track. She had no clue if her surprise would even be worth the stress of navigating the drenched, crowded paddock.
After a moment’s hesitation, she tapped her phone, scrolling through her contacts until she reached the name she wanted. She dialled, and after a few rings, Max’s assistant, Sophie, picked up.
“Hey!” Sophie greeted, sounding pleasantly surprised. “What’s up? Did you make it in?”
“Yes, I’m here!” she whispered, unable to contain her excitement. “I wanted to surprise him before he heads out on track, but with this rain
 do you think I should even bother?”
Sophie sighed sympathetically. “Honestly, it’s a mess out here. They’re saying the rain’s going to be even heavier by the time qualifying starts. He’ll be in back-to-back meetings until then, and I’d hate for you to sit in the rain, just to get a few minutes with him.”
She nodded, glancing out the window at the sheets of rain. “So you think I should wait?”
“I’d say hold off until right before the race,” Sophie replied. “He’ll have a short break, and I think he’d love the surprise then. Plus, everyone’s less frantic between qualifying and race prep.”
“Good point,” she agreed, a little disappointed but knowing Sophie was right. The track on a rainy race day was chaos, and if she could avoid it until the right moment, she’d have a better chance of actually spending time with him. “Thanks, Sophie. Let me know if anything changes?”
“Will do! He’ll be so happy to see you,” Sophie said warmly. “Hang tight, okay?”
As she hung up, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement, knowing the surprise would be even more perfect with the wait. So she ordered herself a coffee, sat by the window, and watched the rain pour down, imagining the look on Max’s face when he’d finally see her just before the most important race of the weekend.
The rain hadn’t let up by the time she arrived at the track, the skies dark and moody, the air thick with humidity. She’d navigated her way through security and weaving lines of drenched fans, her heart racing as she got closer to Max’s garage. But by the time she finally made it, he was already in the car, helmet on, visor down, his focus entirely on the track ahead.
Her heart sank a little as she scanned the bustling garage, hoping for some last chance to catch his eye. But he was already strapped in, a crew member leaning in to give him a final check before he rolled out. She spotted Sophie in the corner, scribbling something down on a clipboard, and made her way over to her.
“Hey,” she whispered, feeling the dampness of the rain still clinging to her hair and clothes. “I
 I just missed him, didn’t I?”
Sophie looked up and gave her a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, he was swamped the moment he got here. They barely had time to get him settled with all the delays.” She gestured to the grid display above them, where Max’s name glowed beside the stark “P17” position. “Rough start, but he’ll be glad to know you’re here.”
She nodded, feeling a pang as she glanced at his car just as it rumbled to life. His fingers flexed on the steering wheel, even from a distance she could see the tension there. She let out a breath, feeling a swell of pride and worry all at once. “Well, I’ll be here watching, then.”
Sophie handed her a headset, which she slipped on just in time to hear his engineer’s voice crackle through with the first instructions as they prepared for the start. The rain was relentless, turning the track into a slick, treacherous maze, and she felt her stomach twist as the cars peeled out onto the track for the formation lap. Max’s car trailed near the back, but she knew he’d fight, as he always did, with a ferocity she both admired and feared in moments like this.
The race began, a chaotic blur of spray and metal, the cars kicking up rooster tails of water, visibility nearly zero as they fought for position. She gripped the edge of her seat as the laps ticked by, heart pounding with every close call. It quickly became clear that the conditions were only worsening, drivers struggling to keep their cars on track, a few even skidding off into barriers with loud, bone-jarring crashes. Her hands tightened around the headset as Max navigate his way forward, battling his way to P10, then P6.
And then, just when the tension seemed to reach its peak, there was a deafening crash, followed by a sudden hush as the red flag went up, halting the race.
Her breath caught in her throat. The screen above replayed the incidentïżœïżœa skidding into the barrier that had caused an emergency stop. The seconds felt like hours as she waited, desperately searching for a glimpse of his car on the feed. Finally, there it was, intact, safe. Relief flooded her, and she felt her shoulders sag.
The race restarted after the delay, and she watched in awe as Max took advantage of the reshuffled positions and tire changes, surging forward with a newfound intensity. Lap by lap, he clawed his way through the field, passing car after car with a precision that made her heart race. It was as if he’d transformed, harnessing every ounce of his frustration from the last few races, channelling it into something extraordinary.
The garage erupted in cheers as he moved into P3, then P1. She stared at the screen, hardly daring to blink, her heart racing as he crossed the finish line in first place, drenched in rain and glory.
She could hardly believe it. From P17 to P1. He’d done it.
Forgetting herself, she laughed, a sound of pure joy, her heart swelling as she watched him slow down, the victory finally sinking in. She couldn't wait to see his face when he finally realised she was here, to be the first person he’d see when he stepped out of that car, soaked and grinning, finally at the top.
Ripping her headset off, she followed the crew as they ran out to parc fermĂ©, her heart racing as fast as the roar of the crowd. The team, buzzing with excitement, parted slightly as she joined them, nudging her to the front so she’d be the first face he saw. She could barely breathe as she caught sight of Max’s car, now still, the rain glistening on its blue-and-red bodywork.
With all the force he had he climbed out, pulling off his helmet to reveal damp, messy hair and a face lit up with exhilaration and disbelief. For a moment, he simply stood there, taking in the shouts of the crowd and the blinding flashes of cameras. And then, his gaze landed on her.
His eyes widened, his exhaustion and surprise giving way to pure joy. Without hesitation, he broke into a run, crossing the slick tarmac with the kind of speed and determination that made her heart leap. She barely had a second to react before he wrapped her in his arms, his lips crashing against hers as he pulled her close, his hands pressed firmly against her back, as if he still couldn’t believe she was real.
“You came,” he murmured breathlessly, pulling back just enough to look at her, his face filled with awe and happiness.
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” she replied, her voice trembling with emotion, brushing a wet strand of hair from his face.
He smiled, a bright, unguarded smile that melted her heart. “God, I needed this. I needed you.”
And then he kissed her again, a kiss filled with all the missed moments and the words they hadn’t been able to say, the thrill of his victory mingling with the fierce love they shared. She felt the rain soak through her clothes, the crowd and the noise around them fading as they held each other, his arms wrapping around her as if he could protect her from the rest of the world.
“I still can’t believe it,” he whispered against her lips, his forehead resting against hers, his hand gently brushing her cheek. “P1. And you’re here.”
She laughed softly, her eyes shining. “You deserve it, Max. I knew you could do it.”
He held her close, a triumphant laugh bubbling from his chest as he buried his face in her neck, and they stood there in the pouring rain, lost in each other, savouring the victory and this long-awaited moment they both knew they’d never forget.
As the noise of the cheering crew and fans started to swell around them, Max pulled back slightly, brushing his thumb across her cheek, his gaze lingering on her face as if he was trying to commit every detail to memory.
“I have to go,” he said softly, his voice tinged with regret. “The interviews, cool-down room, podium
 but wait for me? I’ll meet you in my driver’s room as soon as I can.”
She nodded, understanding but already missing the warmth of his arms. “I’ll be waiting. Go,” she whispered, giving him a small smile. “Enjoy every second—you deserve it.”
He pressed one last, lingering kiss to her forehead, then turned and jogged off to join the waiting crew, helmet in hand, while she stayed rooted to her spot, watching him disappear into the crowd. Her heart swelled with pride as she trailed after the team to watch his interviews, his beaming, breathless face glowing with pride and energy as he spoke about the gruelling conditions and the unbelievable climb from P17 to P1.
Then came the cool-down room, where she watched from the sidelines as he bantered with the other drivers, sharing exhausted smiles and congratulatory claps on the back, the weight of his achievement settling in as he finally let himself relax a little. She couldn’t help but smile, feeling as though she could burst with joy just watching him, his eyes sparking with energy even as he looked ready to collapse from exhaustion.
And finally, the podium. She felt the crowd’s excitement echo through her as she looked up to see him standing tall, drenched from head to toe, a bottle of champagne in hand. When he raised it in victory, the crowd erupted, and she joined them, cheering at the top of her lungs as he sprayed champagne with abandon, laughing as he celebrated with the other drivers. His eyes swept over the crowd, and when they found hers, he gave a subtle nod, a silent promise that he’d be back with her soon.
After the podium, she made her way to his driver’s room, her heart fluttering as she paced the small space, the thrill of the day lingering in every fibre of her being. And then, finally, the door swung open, and there he was.
He looked completely worn out, his hair still damp and messy, his fireproof undersuit clinging to his skin. But his smile was bright, and his eyes lit up the moment he saw her.
Without a word, he crossed the room, pulling her into his arms, his lips finding hers in a soft, exhausted kiss. She melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as he held her close, the adrenaline and joy from his victory radiating between them.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy,” he whispered against her ear, his voice low and hoarse. “Winning today
 and having you here with me. It’s everything.”
She brushed a strand of damp hair from his face, smiling as she traced her fingers along his cheek. “You did it, Max. I’m so proud of you.”
He took her hand, pressing it to his heart, his eyes never leaving hers. “None of it would mean anything without you,” he said quietly, his voice steady.
She felt her eyes sting with tears, overwhelmed by the depth of his words. “I’m here,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I’ll always be here.”
They stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world slipping away. He stroked her hair, pressing gentle kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, her lips, as if savouring each moment.
“Let’s get out of here,” he finally murmured, his voice warm and soft, “celebrate somewhere a little less chaotic.”
She laughed, nodding. “Anywhere, as long as it’s with you.”
They headed back to his hotel, hand in hand, a peaceful quiet settling over them as they left the track behind. Once in the privacy of his suite, he gave her a lingering kiss, then smiled, nodding toward the bathroom. “Give me a few minutes to wash off all the champagne and
 probably half the track dust,” he said with a laugh.
She grinned, watching as he disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water filling the suite a moment later. While he showered, she took the opportunity to pack up her things from her own room, gathering her scattered belongings quickly. The thrill of being close, of finally sharing a space for the night, filled her with a warmth that had nothing to do with the tropical heat outside.
By the time she returned, he was out of the shower, towelling off his damp hair, his expression softening as he took in the sight of her standing there with her things. Without a word, he crossed the room and took her bags from her hands, setting them by the closet as he gave her a smile that made her heart skip.
Once they’d both changed into fresh clothes—she’d opted for a simple dress, and he in casual jeans and a loose shirt—they slipped out of the hotel through a side exit, making their way to a tiny, tucked-away Brazilian restaurant that had been recommended. The place was hidden, small enough to be missed by the crowds, with soft, low lighting that created an intimate, cosy atmosphere. A few locals lingered around tables, but they paid little attention to the couple as they took a corner table in the back.
They ordered caipirinhas and he reached across the table to hold her hand, his fingers tracing gentle circles on her skin as they laughed over silly little things, shared stories from the past few weeks, and spoke of things beyond racing, beyond work, just slipping back into the easy flow they always shared. The food was rich and delicious—small plates of feijoada, grilled meats, and pão de queijo—everything flavorful and homey.
He leaned across the table, his eyes warm and filled with that familiar spark, as he watched her speak, clearly savouring every moment. “You know,” he said softly, “I think this is the best victory celebration I’ve ever had.”
She squeezed his hand, smiling back at him. “Same here. I missed just
 being with you like this.”
They stayed until the restaurant closed, lingering over the last bites of dessert, letting the night stretch out as long as possible. Eventually, they headed back to the hotel, the city streets now quiet and still beneath the soft hum of streetlights.
Once back in his room, Max changed into a pair of soft pyjama bottoms, leaving his chest bare, his skin still warm from the shower. She slipped into one of his t-shirts, the fabric soft and oversized, the scent of him comforting and familiar. When she stepped out the bathroom, he was already waiting for her by the bed, his gaze softening as he took her in, a gentle smile curving on his lips.
Without a word, he reached for her, lacing his fingers through hers as he pulled her close, guiding her to the bed. She sank into the mattress beside him, and he wrapped an arm around her, drawing her against his chest, his fingertips trailing absently over her shoulder. She nestled into him, feeling his warmth seep through her, a cosy silence wrapping around them.
They lay there, tangled together, her head tucked beneath his chin as he gently traced circles on her back, his breath even and steady. He tilted her chin up, his eyes searching hers for a quiet moment before he leaned down, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss, filled with a tenderness that said everything words couldn’t. She kissed him back just as gently, savouring the intimacy of being close like this, the world beyond these walls feeling miles away.
When the kiss ended, he pressed his forehead to hers, a soft sigh escaping as he held her close, one hand settling over hers, fingers intertwined. They stayed that way, her head resting against his heartbeat, lulled by the steady rhythm.
Finally, they drifted off, still tangled in each other’s arms, wrapped up in the warmth and comfort of just being together. As the night settled around them, Max couldn’t help but smile, holding her a little closer as he slipped into sleep, his heart full and light.
Max couldn’t have wished for a better weekend.
the end.
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iraprince · 2 days ago
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HI!!!!!!! i have some public comm slots left after the patron head start!!
only a few slots available but i'm not really limiting it to like, "sketch pages are sold out, i'm only taking busts" the way i have in the past; it's really just going to depend on what comes in and what i can fit well amongst my existing workload!​
as always, these are not first come first serve; i will wait a day or two, let's just go ahead and say friday, for requests to come in across timezones and then get back to people!
TO REQUEST A COMMISSION SLOT, please send an email to [email protected] with "commission" somewhere in the subject line, and include: 1. a description of what you'd like (size/style, pose and expression if relevant, etc) 2. references 3. an email i can send a paypal invoice to
i WILL NOT RESPOND to emails that just say "hi, i'd like a commission" or "do you still have slots open," only messages that actually describe what you'd like me to draw. thank you for understanding!
thanks so much for your support and your interest!! so excited to work with you guys <3
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writingwarmupsofthedamned · 17 hours ago
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My maid’s hands trembled as she brushed my hair. 
“I can do that myself, really. It’s fine,” I said, taking a sip of my tea. I tried to make my movements smooth so as to not spook her, but the gold-rimmed teacup probably cost more than my entire village back home, and it was hard to treat it casually.
“Oh, no, Miss. Sorry, Miss. I’ll work faster, Miss.” Her voice was barely louder than a whisper. I watched her through the mirror, her gaze fixed steadily on my hair. She had yet to meet my eyes since I’d arrived the evening before. 
I forced an easy smile. “Take your time. I’m in no rush to get to breakfast. I’m not even sure why I’ve been invited, if I’m honest.”
The brushing continued, slower but less shakily than before. There was a careful deliberation to it, the kind I’d seen in alchemists carrying explosives. 
“We’re all just honoured to have you here, MIss.”
I wanted to scream, but the shock of it might kill the girl. She looked barely sixteen and I wondered if they’d sent her because she was the youngest and everyone else had refused. That happened, sometimes, though mostly households tried to send their best- if they didn’t quit at the very request. 
She began to braid my hair. I watched in the mirror as her hands gently weaved everything into place. She was using the technique that was currently fashionable at court, which was strange for a country girl. Perhaps the mistress of the household was particularly fashionable, or perhaps it was the girl herself. 
“Do you do the mistress’s hair as well?”
“Yes, Miss. I did it this morning.”
“What’s she like? I must confess I don’t know much about the Stormfells. I am mostly here at the King’s suggestion. They are cousins, I think?”
“Yes, Miss. He comes here with his entourage sometimes. My mistress is a very proper lady, very honourable, very good.”
Utterly useless adjectives.
“Twyla, may I ask you a blunt question?”
Her hands faltered but she did not look up from my hair. “Of course, Miss.”
“What is it you’re so afraid of that you think I might do?”
She dropped the braid and finally looked at my face, her eyes wide. “I...”
“Please.” 
“They say that you turned the Duke of Bradywaithe into a beast and cursed all of his staff to be objects. I don’t want to be a footstool, Miss.”
Twyla’s eyes filled with tears. 
Oh.
I opened my mouth to correct her, to set the story straight, but, catching sight of myself in the mirror, I stopped. I was dressed in a beautiful silk gown in a lavish bedroom the size of my whole cottage. Being feared was dreadful indeed, but it was certainly better than always being hungry.
“I promise you, I won’t turn you into anything. Especially not a footstool.”
“Thank you, Miss.” 
A slight tingle of guilt crawled up my spine as she went back to styling my hair, but I shoved it down and took another sip from the gold-rimmed teacup.
You are the most influential and powerful person in the kingdom. Even the royals walk eggshells around you at risk of offending you. The thing is, you have no idea what you’re doing or how it has gotten to this point, but you’re in way too deep now and you have to keep the lie going to survive.
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strrykais · 9 hours ago
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stray kids sending you a nude ...
authors note: there is wang photos (blurred) but still there!! you have been warned ?? thank you for the request my pookie!!! guys im serious so much wang ... wang
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stray kids masterlist
ⓒstrrykais
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nvtstvrns · 2 days ago
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Prettied Up - Chris Sturniolo
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Smut, dom!chris, sub!fem
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Summary: you and Chris are getting ready to go to dinner with Nick and Matt when he sees you doing your makeup in the mirror, he decides to eat you out while you do your makeup.
Contains: smut, sub!fem, dom!chris, oral (fem!receiver), almost getting caught, pet names (ma, pretty girl, etc)
Authors note: I am so sorry I put this story off for so long, here it is 😭
Divider Credits: @bernardsbendystraws @adornedwithlight and @cafekitsune
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Chris and I were getting ready for dinner with Nick, Matt, Mikayla and Nate, we were in Boston for a few weeks and we wanted to get together with our old friends. I was standing at the mirror starting my makeup, Chris was in the shower.
“Ma, can you hand me that towel, please?” He asks me his finger pointing through the shower curtain. I walk over to the towel and I hand it to him. I quickly go back to doing my makeup, we only had twenty minutes left before we had to leave.
Chris comes behind me and wraps his arms around my stomach and he lays his head on my shoulder.
“Chris, you’re getting my clothes all wet.” I say pushing him off my slightly.
“That’s not too bad though right-“ he says hugging me from behind again. This time his hands trail to my bare waist. “Clothes will dry
” he reaches up and cups my breast.
“Chris.” I warn as I watch him run his hands all over my body in the mirror. “I’m trying to do my makeup.” I say blending out my blush trying to shake off the goosebumps. I could feel myself throbbing in need and I took a deep breath.
“You gettin all prettied up f’me?” He says as he puts on his underwear and then his pants. I grin and turn around. “Chris stop making me-“
He gets closer to me and grabs my jaw. “Stop making you what?” He says in a husky voice. My knees buckled. His grip on my jaw was light and soft but it still put a huge effect on me.
I look up at him with puppy eyes and he lets me go.
“Can I make you feel good baby
give you a little reward
”
“For what?” I ask quietly.
“You deserve it
but keep gettin prettied up for me ma.”
He gets down on his knees in front of me. This was a new thing from him, it’s always me getting on my knees for him, was he really going to make me feel good with no returns at all? I feel his hands fiddle with my button on my pants and then he unzips them, pulling them down to my ankles and then pulling them all the way off. His eyes trail up to mine and he places a soft kiss to my lower abdomen.
“Keep doing your makeup don’t watch me.” He says pulling my underwear off and throwing them somewhere with my pants. He doesn’t even hesitate, his mouth quickly attaching to my clit, I let out a gasp and I hang my head back. He taps the back of my thighs telling me to continue doing my makeup, so I do, trying to line my lips with all of this pleasure is not working, so I move on to my mascara.
“Oh my-fuck Chris
” I say as my legs begin to shake, I can’t focus on just my makeup, the image of him pumping his fingers in and out of my wet pussy while his mouth abuses my clit was way too much. “I’m gonna cum, Chris! Oh my fucking god, Chris
” I say grinding my hips on his face.
“Mmm yeah grind my face ma, cum all over me.” I continue grinding my hips reaching closer and closer to my high, with a final cry my legs jerk and I cum all over his face
luckily my makeup was fully finished, it didn’t look exactly how I wanted it to, but I did my best.
“Chris! Y/n come on! We have to leave!” Matt yells, in a daze I put back on my pants and he puts on his shirt, and puts on deodorant and other things. He wraps an arm around my shoulder.
“Don’t let it affect you too much baby.” He says kissing my temple “we still have dinner to eat, and then you can have me.”
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This was a lot of fun to write, and thank you sm for all of your support lately (I recently did a face reveal) so thank you for all of your compliments on that. Thank you for reading my fanfictions and if you ever have a request just send me a silly little message.
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itneverendshere · 2 days ago
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Hii i love the bitchy!pogue!reader series and i would love to know how they first hooked up again, like what led them to keep going after their first night together. That's all, thx in a advance if you do it, i love your writing
the way i ran to write this lmao, thank you for the request ❀ let's just say it wasn't planned at alll....it was fate👀
in spite of myself - drabble
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pairing: bitchy!pogue!reader x rafe
you swore the first time was the last.
you were simply
 curious. you wanted to figure out just how far you could push his buttons without him taking it out on you.
you got your answer. you went to that party with the sole intent of pissing him off, but you hadn’t planned on ending up in his bed—not that you’d ever complain. but that was it.
you’d gotten your taste, of course you weren't expecting to run into him so...soon.
you’d learned to play along for these little trips into kookland. your cheap dress, bought solely to get you through the gates, hugged you a little too close—but that was the point, wasn’t it? you made a show of adjusting the neckline, scanning the room with that perfected boredom.
the moment you spotted him across the room, you nearly snorted, because of course he was here.
rafe, in all his buttoned-up glory. hair slicked back like he’d asked his barber for the "douchebag deluxe," wearing a shirt that probably cost as much as your entire car. he looked so at ease among his kind, you wanted to pat him on the head and give him a treat.
bingo.
he was pretending not to see you, standing there with some stuffy old kook in khakis so aggressively white they probably had a staff meeting dedicated to their upkeep.
but you could spot it: the clench in his jaw, his fingers twitching around his glass.
honestly, it was too easy. you’d barely taken a few steps in his direction, and his grip tightened like he was trying not to crush the glass just at the sight of you.
aww. you hadn’t come here for him, but the opportunity was irresistible, how could you say no to that face?
you took your time, internally giddy at how his stiff he looked the closer you got. you let out a soft, exaggerated sigh as you finally slid up next to him at the bar, taking your time, letting your eyes glide over his shoulders and back down to those broad, broad arms.
god, look at those arms, you thought.
this idiot must curl yachts for fun. absolutely absurd.
his gaze snapped to you, “what the hell are you doing here?” he gritted out, sending a delightful shiver down your spine.
poor thing, always so snappy.
you brought a hand to your chest, going for maximum innocence.
“who, me?” you blinked, leaning in with a soft, honey-dripping sigh. “just networking with the local elite. isn’t that what i’m supposed to do if i want to ‘rise above my station’?” you savored the horror flashing across his face.
rafe looked personally offended, like you’d just announced you were taking up golf, while you let your eyes drop to the line of his shoulders, lingering just a little too long on his chest before dropping.
slowly, slowly.
his face twisted like he was in pain, and he leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, protecting himself from the way you were very clearly undressing him with your eyes.
“cut that shit out,” he ground out, “i know what you’re doing.”
you raised an eyebrow, “doing what?” you shot him a wide-eyed, who, me? look, letting your gaze dip again. “i’m not doing anything.”
his face flushed as he hissed, “you’re doing it right now! act normal for once.”
he pulled away from you as if your pogue germs might rub off on him, but you’d seen that look on his face before.
“honestly, if you didn’t want attention cameron, maybe don’t wear that. kind of a slutty choice, don’t you think?”
his neck flushed deep red as he scowled. “excuse me?”
you shrugged, “just saying. last time, you had a lot to say about my outfit, didn’t you?”
“you’re fucking insane. leave me alone.”
you smirked, leaning closer, “oh, baby, i’ve already got what i wanted from you,” you purred. “unless, of course, you’re offering again?”
his jaw tensed, and he looked away as if even looking at you would ruin his day. but he was still here, wasn’t he?
“don’t flatter yourself. i’m done with you,” he muttered.
you shot him a wicked grin, “flatter myself?” you let out an exaggerated laugh, turning heads nearby. “i’m here on a date.”
rafe’s smirk dropped, and he cast a quick, possessive look around the room before moving his attention back to you.
“a date?” he repeated as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth.
you nodded as you pointed toward the back, where your “date”—some poor kook with a summer tan and daddy’s credit card—stood waiting near the hors d’oeuvres table, oblivious.
“did you think i came here just for you?” you tilted your head, letting the words sting. “i don’t do repeats, country club. got what i wanted, remember?”
he looked like he was about to set the place on fire, blue eyes narrowing as he glared at your so-called date. you could sense the gears turning in his head. god, this was just too easy.
“maybe you should run along, hmm?” you said, your voice light and mocking. “can’t imagine what your country club buddies would think, seeing you all worked up over a pogue.” you flashed him a dazzling smile before tossing a wink, then spun on your heel, leaving him there seething.
you could feel his stare burning into your back as you sashayed over to your “date.” this was way too fun.
lunch was mind-numbing, but free, so you were perfectly okay tolerating the “date”—or, as you preferred to call it, the idiot with a wallet—while he droned on about his family’s fleet of yachts or some bullshit about generational wealth. you nodded along, not listening as he bragged. as if you even gave a fuck.
when he finally paused to shove more overpriced pasta into his mouth, you decided you needed a break from the snooze-fest.
“excuse me, i’ll just pop to the ladies’ room,” you murmured, batting your lashes like the good, sweet little pogue he thought he’d bagged for the afternoon. as soon as you were clear of him, you rolled your eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck.
the second you got into the quiet of the bathroom, you let out a dramatic sigh of relief, shaking your head.
what a fucking bore.
you’d honestly rather be anywhere else—well, except maybe with rafe, since he’d probably drag you back to the ninth circle of pogue-hating hell.
as you were checking your lipstick in the mirror, the door swung open, and you didn’t even need to look up to know who it was.
“um, excuse you?” you snapped, eyebrows shooting up. “i know you have a thing for following me around, but the ladies’ room? have you lost your fuckin’ mind?”
rafe didn’t answer.
he stalked forward, looking pissed as he backed you up against the sink, boxing you in without so much as a second thought. there was something about the way his forearms flexed when he did that.
ridiculous, he most likely got pumped up just pouring a glass of water.
“what the hell do you think you’re doing here?” he growled, his voice dripping with disdain.
a laugh bubbled up before you could stop it. oh my god.
you clamped a hand over your mouth, but the sound came anyway, echoing off the fancy-ass tiles. “oh my god, what the actual fuck is wrong with you?”
he leaned in even closer. “you think this is funny?”
“funny?” you snorted, crossing your arms. “it’s hilarious. i’m here for lunch. you know, food? the stuff people eat? he offered, and i like free shit. it’s that simple.”
“you’re doing this just to piss me off,” he accused.
“oh, get over yourself,” you scoffed. “you think i’m obsessed with you or something? i wasn’t even thinking about you until you came barging in here like a lunatic.” you leaned back, giving him a brazen, challenging look. “can you move, by the way? i was enjoying the break.”
his nostrils flared, but you didn’t even care. if he wanted to lose his shit, fine—he was the one who walked in here. you stared him down, totally unfazed, holding his gaze until he broke it.
“careful,” you added, your voice mocking and low. “if i didn’t know better, i’d say you were jealous. because, i gotta be honest, you look like you’re about two seconds away from—”
“shut up,” he growled, his face inches from yours, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke. “you show up here, flaunting yourself like you don’t remember exactly how last week ended, like you weren’t begging me to—”
“oh please,” you interrupted, ignoring the pleasure that traveled up your spine. “let’s not rewrite history.”
his hand gripped your cheeks, blunt nails pressing in from either side as he pulled you close, capturing your jaw to hold you still. the pressure of the squeeze pulled your pouty lips together, forcing you to look up with wide eyes.
“stop talking."
you tried to smirk around his grip, feeling the bite of his fingers, but your words came out muffled.
“what’s wrong, country club? can’t handle a little conversation?”
“just can’t help yourself, can you?”
you could hardly nod, your eyes gleaming with defiance as you let out a small, mocking hum of agreement.
his hands slid down from your cheeks to cradle your jaw, fingers firm as his mouth pushed against yours. you giggled into the kiss, entirely too pleased with yourself as you tangled your fingers into his hair, pulling until he groaned.
“this is the last time,” his voice was ragged against your lips, but the words sounded half-hearted, he was trying to convince himself.
you smirked, pulling back just enough to catch your breath, tilting your head to test him, see if he’d let you go. instead, his hand was already sliding up your neck, his thumb tracing the line of your lips, holding you right there.
“you think you’re so clever, don’t you?” he whispered, breathless. “think you can just look at me like that, say whatever you want
”
“who says i can’t?” you purred, lips brushing against his as you taunted, “if you don't want this, maybe you should go.”
his grip tightened, a curse slipping past his pretty lips, streaked with the deep red of your lipstick, glossy with both your spit.
and fuck, did he look good like that—disheveled, unguarded, his face painted with your lipstick like a silent confession of just how far he’d let himself go with you despite his fucked morals.
rafe let out a shaky breath, his forehead resting against yours as he muttered, “last time, swear to god.”
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purple-plum-petals · 1 day ago
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Can I pretty please get some headcanons of mr chopped with a s/o that loves to grab him sudenly just to give him kisses?
 ⊱ Smothering Him in Kisses ⊰ || Mr. Chopped Headcanons
╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╼ Character(s): Mr. Chopped (Homicipher/æ–‡ć­—ćŒ–ćŒ–) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) Warning(s): Nothing! Genre: Headcanons, Fluff, Pre-Established Romantic Relationship Word Count: ~420 words Request: “Can I pretty please get some headcanons of mr chopped with a s/o that loves to grab him sudenly just to give him kisses?” Author’s Note: Yes, you may!! Thank you for sending in such an adorable request – Mr. Chopped is just too cute. I wish we had more moments with him in-game. 😭 This one is a little on the shorter side since only one character was requested, but I hope you enjoy it nevertheless! 
→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡ ╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯
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đŸ—Łïž: Honestly, his reaction depends on his mood or when you decide to randomly smother him in kisses. If he was sleeping and you suddenly grabbed him to place kisses across his cheeks, he might get a bit pouty and scold you for scaring him out of a dead sleep. Don’t you know that’s rude?? However, if he’s fully conscious, he’ll take your kisses with either a bright smile or quietly sulk while he allows you to shower him in affection. He has mixed feelings about being manhandled unless he explicitly asks you to carry or hold him, so just ask for his consent before you decide to smother him in your love (you should ask for consent no matter what, folks)! 
đŸ—Łïž: He does love your kisses, though
 He enjoys the feeling of your hands gently cradling his face, your thumbs brushing over the apples of his cheeks while your lips leave feather-light touches across his flesh. He knows he’s safe there with you, and that you’ll protect him from anything that wants to bring him harm. Honestly, he’s never slept better than when he’s with you, resting on your chest or lap or stomach, nuzzling into your body for more warmth and comfort. 
đŸ—Łïž: Mr. Chopped seems like the kind of person who would adore butterfly kisses. He finds the action endearing and will laugh softly when your lashes lightly brush against his skin. Another type of kiss besides your traditional cheek and/or lip kiss is nose kisses. His nose will scrunch up as you rub the tips together, and he finds it to be the most wonderful feeling in the world – that fluttering sensation he gets despite having no heart or stomach. My man just eats up any attention or affection that you’re willing to give (as long as you don’t catch him off-guard – he hates surprises). 
đŸ—Łïž: If you wear lipgloss or colored lipstick, Mr. Chopped gets really embarrassed since the marks of your lips are pretty much stuck on his face until either you or Mr. Silvair wipe them off of him (which neither of you will do unless he starts whining about it – you both find his reaction to be entertaining and/or cute). He prefers it when you wear lipstick more than lipgloss, though, since the gloss can be pretty sticky and somewhat uncomfortable on his skin. Mr. Chopped notices that, whenever he does have the mark of your lips on his face, he doesn’t get kidnapped nearly as frequently as he used to
 did you know about this, or do you just do it to make him blush? 
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biteyoubiteme · 2 days ago
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needy jealousy
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yeonjun x fem!reader x kai
synopsis: your boyfriends decide to join nonutnovember.
warnings: 🔞!!! throuple/poly, established realtionship, no mxm, no protection, mentions of cum eating, creampie(s),she/her used prob forgot some sorry
wc: 3.4k
an: not proofread pls have mercy im so sleepy, I told myself I would keep these under 2k and im a liar bc as soon as this came in I knew I wouldn't be able to make it short ;-; hopefully it’s good lol thank you so much for the request @apeachty ily and you know exactly what I want to write next without even trying lol our minds are linked. also peep the reference to busy signal! anyways I have a whole bunch of other yeonkai x reader fics so check them out if you want!
[m.list] [1kevent! m.list]
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“no,”
“what do you mean by no?” yeonjun asks, “You can’t or won’t?” He's leaning back against the headboard, scrolling on his phone when he gets the message in his group chat. 
“I won’t,” you shrug, snuggling closer to Kai. He's half asleep, nose pressed to the back of your neck, arms loosely wrapped around you. 
“It's only one month, you’re saying you can’t go one month without sex?” 
“Not that I can’t, just that I won’t. It’s so stupid if I want to cum I will, with or without you,” you pat the back of huenings hand resting against your stomach. “I do have two boys to take care of me,” 
kai chuckles, sleep ridden in the rumble on your back, “I’m going to try it,” 
“I cannot believe both of you are falling into peer pressure, just cause the other boys are doing it doesn’t mean you have to,” 
“I was told if I hold out longer than beomgyu I get a free coffee for every day I last,” yeonjun flips his phone for you to see his chat, and sure enough everyone is bragging about how they could make it till the end of November without getting off. 
“Fine, do what you want. I’m not going to sit and beg you,” holding up two fingers you wave them in his face, “I can do it myself,” 
“You don't even know how to use these,” he grabs at your wrist, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. 
“I'll spend the month learning, or I'll just use the vibrator and the two of you will just have to sit and watch,” 
It seemed like such a light threat at the time. Not one that you would hold to but it wasn't as if you needed to hold it in the first place. Only two days in and it felt like both of them would fail. Neither of them brought this up to you, but it wasn't like they needed to, the signs were everywhere. 
Yeonjun had taken to spending time in the office when studying, all of his school work done with no time left for cuddling on the couch with you. More time spent working out with taehyun and less flirty texts in between sessions like he usually sent. Huening on the other hand was slowly closing off. His tight responses ended in silence, hardly answering in your group chat. Even in bed at night both of their backs turned to you as you lay there looking up at the ceiling. 
It wasn't as if you all were sex addicts, what the challenge really was, was knowing that you couldn't do something vs. just not being in the mood. It was the forbidden fruit effect spread out before them. Everything you did now was hot even if it was the most mundane thing imaginable. The season was changing and now even just watching you take off your coat after coming in from outside was enough to get them hard. Just the idea of taking your clothes off, even just one layer, was enough to send them on their way to their respective avoidance programs. 
You could be laying on the couch, half asleep, and answering a question with a hum and they were done for. Even worse at night when you would change, or come fresh out of the shower, hair still dripping, leaving your shirt spotted with wet dots, the fabric getting cold enough to make your nipples hard. It was a curse to witness you walk out into the living room with your shorts showing so much skin. 
And you could see it on their faces, the way their jaws tightened, throats bobbing as they swallowed. You had never seen Kai look so expressionless. Every little thing is pent up inside him, the negative aura radiating off of him as you sit down between them. Even just seeing your bare thigh sent them into the other room. 
A week in is around the time you think they are going to break. Yeonjun coming home from his workout, hair still sweaty and sticking to his forehead as he wraps his arms around you from behind. His soft kisses on your neck as you prepare a cup of tea. “Want one?” 
“No, I'm good,” his hands traveling under and up your shirt. It was the first time since that conversation in the bed that he's put his hands on you in any way besides helping to guide you by the small of your lower back. You melted into his hold, head rolling back, letting him feel over your skin. 
Neither of you hear Kai's feet padding across the apartment's floor. Don't notice him standing right in the doorway until he clears his throat, “so you've given up already?” The accusation sounds more like a warning. It's like he's thrown a bucket of ice water over yeonjun, the realization crushing his forgetfulness. He tugs his hands away from you like you're a hot stove he's gotten too close to. “Jjunie-” 
He doesn't even look up, hand over his eyes as he turns away, “No, I'm going to take a very cold shower,” 
“I'll join!” it's mostly a joke, your giggle making them both scowl. 
“No, stop talking about being naked around me right now,” 
“Why?” you ask, leaning against the counter, tilting your head as he tries to wave away the word. Your smile stuck as he walked away. 
“You're evil,” he tosses over his shoulder leaving you alone with huening. You can feel him standing there watching you. His hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie while he leaned against the door frame. 
“Do you want some?” you ask, pouring a spoonful of honey into your mug. He watches the way it dribbles and sees a dot drop to the counter, your fingers scooping it up and taking it to your mouth. 
He watches you suck the honey off, not even caring that he's right there watching, hands tightening into fists as he thinks about the way your tongue would feel. He thinks he's hiding it well, that you can’t tell he's struggling so much. But he's so obvious, shaking his head and muttering that he's going to bed early. He swears he is never this horny, the two of you have gone well past a few weeks without having sex before and not even thinking much about it. Only now it’s all he can think about and it's making him feel sick, his stomach tightening every time he sees you in a room, like at any moment it won't be him you go to first to ask to get off. 
Never has he been so jealous in his life, not even about yeonjun for kissing you but over your own fingers. Even if you caved and asked yeonjun to be the one to take care of you he wouldn't mind, he'd give up without question, but the idea that you can just walk around and sit with your own hand down your pants was what was killing him. 
He could see it in his head, could picture that time you were struggling to get off with tears in your eyes, how he helped you just like you needed, yeonjun over the phone telling him to take care of you. He wanted that, he needed that. He wanted to help you again, he wanted you to help him, and yet he also wanted to last longer than yeonjun. 
But you had had enough of watching the two of them being so avoidant. Feeling plagued by kai’s mood and yeonjun absence over something so stupid was annoying. Not caring about your tea you followed after Kai. He was already climbing onto the bed, curling up away from your side, arms crossed and eyes closed as you hopped in after him. 
He doesn't acknowledge you are there even when you sneak your arms under him, wrapping him up and being the big spoon behind him. You press your face into his neck, breathing in his comforting smell, humming right against his ear. 
“Hyuka?” it's rare you use the nickname, only when you really want something, kai associating it the most with your desperate calls for him to touch you. You can feel his body tightening, your leg raising to lay on top of his, tugging him even closer to you. “You're so tense,” Your hand on his stomach rubs in soft circles over the fabric of his hoodie, his breath hitching every time you pass over the waistband of his sweatpants. “You know I could help with that,” 
Kai pulls himself away from you, all the way off the bed as you roll on your back. The little smile on your lips eating him alive. He was hard, painfully so, watching you there softly roll your hips, beckoning him. He can hear the sound of the shower, the beating water, the only other noise in the room, the light under the door fanning out around the floor. He watched you sit up on your knees, right at the edge of the bed, hands reaching out to tug him closer to you. 
He let it happen, caved, and leaned down to rest his forehead on yours, eyes pinched closed as he muttered, “You're Killing me,” he could feel your smile when you kissed him, arms wrapping around his neck. 
You had him right where you wanted him, his whimpers between kisses only pushing you on, pulling him back to the bed. He didn't say anything as he laid back against the headboard, your legs straddling him, and your hands already pulling off his top. “I shouldn't-” 
“I won't tell,” you say in between kisses, his erection pressed into your thigh. “We can be quick, yeonjun won't even have to know,” 
“He’ll know,” kai’s not even trying to keep it down, his soft whimpers leaving every time he rolls his hips to try and gain friction against your leg. “And I won't stop after just once, I don't think it will be enough,” 
Both of you jump at the sound of yeonjuns voice, “What is this? My girlfriend in bed with another man?” Neither of you had even heard the water turn off, the steam still wafting out of the bathroom behind yeonjun as he rubbed a towel against his wet hair. 
“Oh no Huening, I think my boyfriend caught us,” sometimes the three of you liked to joke like this, poking fun at the idea of what others thought about your relationship. But Kai wasn't in the mood. He wrapped his arms around you, flipping you over so you were on your back and he was on top pushing you into the mattress. 
“My girlfriend, my bed. I want first,” he leaves no room for argument, his mouth back on your neck, hips grinding into yours. 
“Giving up so early already Huening, I knew you couldn't last,” yeonjun tisks, he sits back in his chair in the corner of the room, his favorite view for moments like this. His towel is draped across his bare shoulders, arms crossed as he looks right at you. “And you, I'm sure you teased him into it,” 
“no, I’d never do something like that,” 
“Liar,” they both say at the same time, kai’s face pressed against your neck, hot mouth working down your throat. You wrap your legs around him pushing him closer, his breathy whimpers right in your ear. Twisting your fingers into kai's hair you pull on the strands, your smile eating yeonjun alive. He could tell himself he wouldn't cave but he knows it's a slim chance when he sees you like this with huening. 
Not when he watches the way your lips fall open when kai pushes into you, the sweet little sounds you're making leaves him hard in seconds. It's worse now too because you're looking at him like you know exactly what he's thinking. And you do know, it's not too hard to guess as he leans back with his arms crossed, knuckles turning white as he readjusts in his seat to try and find some kind of relief. 
Kai didn't even feel the need to strip you, pushing your panties to the side and not worrying about preparing you. The guttural moan he released when he was fully seated inside you reverberated against your whole body. He was a mess of whimpers, arms wrapping around you pulling you as close as he could, shallow thrusts in apology for ever denying himself from you. “Never again- I won't- I can't-”  he's trying to get the words out, broken moans filtering through each breath he takes. 
“He can't even talk, and I'm not even going to judge because if it's anything like how I remember I'd be just as bad,” yeonjun mutters, his jaw so tight he hardly opens his mouth to say it. 
“Jjunie,” you moan, tugging kais hair as his hips stutter against yours, “don't you want to cum for me?”  
Kai won't last hearing the word come from your mouth, every thrust just making you wetter, your warmth pulling him in. He's surprised he even lasted this long before he felt his first orgasm. If it wasn’t for the way he starts to tremble you wouldn't have noticed that he has cum already, not when he doesn’t pull out, doesn’t even slow down. 
“Don't give me that look,” yeonjun warns, but it is not like you can help it when kai is pulling one of your legs up by the back of your knee, his hips sinking deeper, your eyes rolling back at the new depth. 
Yeonjun doesn't even notice how his own hips are moving, leaning back just enough in his chair so that each roll gives him the just right amount of friction against his oversized sweatpants. He's trying not to make it obvious just how hard he is but he's finding it harder and harder to keep his hands off himself and away from you when the headboard starts to creek against the wall. 
Huenings lets out a mix of grunts and whimpers, his cum making you so much easier to slip in and out of, the soft slapping sound of his thighs against yours drowning out any other thought in his mind. “Look at me,” he's gasping, pulling back just enough so that his hand not holding your leg can grasp the headboard, softening the sound for only a second before the bed is back to squeaking. 
You don't deny him, his hair hanging around his eyes, mouth open as he feels the first tingle of overstimulation, thin silver chain necklace dangling just above your chin. His knees are digging into the mattress, the angle pushing him so much deeper. You reach down with one hand to rub on your clit, the other scratching at the back of his neck. 
He's finding it hard to keep his eyes open as he tried not to cum again, “God you look so pretty like this,” 
“Did you miss me?” 
“Fuck yes, I missed this- I missed your pussy so- so much,” he trails off in a whimper, head tossed back exposing his throat to you. 
Your orgasm is so close, aided by all of his desperate sounds. When all of his little ‘ah-ah’s’ get close together you feel yourself tip over the edge. Kai can’t handle the way you clench around him, the both of you are so wrapped up in each other that you don't notice the way yeonjun has to close his eyes. He's begging and praying that he could be stronger than he is but this is too much for him. 
Worst still is how you look over at him at just the last second, a taunt caught right in your creased brow. He can't even take the pressure of his pants anymore, he tugs them down, cock hitting his stomach, heavy and aching. It does little to cure him of this need. 
Kai lets go of the headboard, arms pulling you closer as he peppers your face in kisses, his happy giggle pressed right to your pulse. “Do you feel better?” 
“So much,” he sighs, “I don't even care about losing anymore I just wanted- no I needed you so bad,”
“You know who else needs to forget the stupid bet?” your eyes are trained on the way yeonjun is trying and failing not to move his hips. Every micro-movement brushing his red tip against his skin gives the smallest amount of relief but not enough. 
“Don't talk like I'm not right here,” his eyes are closed, fingers leaving imprints on his biceps. 
“You should help him,” Kai continues, nose sliding down your cheek before he gives a soft kiss to the edge of your mouth. He pulls away, leaning back on his heels as he pulls out of you, quick to move your panties into place to catch any of your combined release in place to not spill on the sheets. 
Standing on shaking legs you stand, stumbling until yeonjun pulls you on top of him. He's groaning as soon as you straddle him, his hands on your hips like a vise. “Why torture me?” 
“No one said you had to watch, I was content with not letting you know but you sat down and didn't look away,” your nails lightly scratch over his chest, his humming response matches the subtle way he's trying to grind up into your clothed clit, panties wet and warm against him. 
“I'll just put it in, I won't even move, I just- I need something,” it's like he's asking permission, wondering if this will mean he's failed, if you'll tell on him. Huening chuckles from the bed, knowing the truth because the second yeonjun slips in he won't be able to help himself. 
“Okay, I won't move either,” you slip your hand down to pull your underwear to the side, the dribbles of your slick and kais cum leak all over. Dripping onto yeonjuns veiny cock and stomach. You try to wipe it away, your fingers on him making his ads flex, cock jumping when you put your fingers to your mouth, sucking away the saltiness. You barely get your fingers away from your mouth before yeonjuns kiss you. His favorite taste is you mixed with cum. 
When you sink down on him both of you moan, the sound caught right in the back of your throat, his eyes squeezed tight as he tries not to thrust up into you. He's devastated to find that you feel even better than he remembered, his hold on your hips almost bruising as you clench around him.  
“This was a horrible idea,” he’s gasping, “oh shit- i-,” he's cut off by your first attempt at moving up and down. “No, don’t, I won't be able to last-” 
“But jjunie-” you whine, hand pushing into your lower stomach, right over where you can feel him pressing so deep into you. “I wanna cum again,” 
“She's so greedy,” Kai adds, your hips rocking back and forth enough to leave yeonjun speechless. 
Clit grinding onto his pelvis, you don't even care about bouncing anymore, the perfect friction to get you off, the tip of his cock pressed right against your g-spot bumping over and over with each movement of your hips. “You're going to have to get off, I can't lose- I won't-” 
But it's not like he's letting you get off of him, he's actively helping you grind down on him, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, “faster-” he's moaning, your hands on his shoulders for leverage before you're falling apart, your toes curling, every noise pressed right to his ear. The way your walls are fluttering around him makes his balls tighten, “I just won'tcum I just won't- I won't - I- fuck -oh fuuuckk,” He's not even stopping now, thrusting up into you to ride out his high, shoving all his cum as far as he can get it, not worried anymore when it feels this good. 
“You're the worst,” yeonjun chuckles after the two of you have caught your breath, “I love you so much, but actually you're evil and I love it,” 
“It's not my fault you couldn't help yourself, I told you it was stupid,” 
“I just won't tell anyone this happened,” he shrugs but kai laughs from the bed. 
“I already told everyone you lost,”
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merbear25 · 2 days ago
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Heeeeeyyyy
So I discovered this blog through that breeding kink request with Katakuri, Crocodile and Mihawk and may I request the aftermath? Like I want pregnancy and baby stuff, I want the domestic bliss. Please
Oh, how cool that you found me through that! Thanks for sending in a request. I hope you enjoy this just as much as the other one.💜💜
CW: SFW, fem!reader, pregnancy and childbirth mentioned, fluff, a touch of angst, defined relationship 
His two loves (Katakuri, Crocodile, Mihawk)
Katakuri: Waking up in the middle of the night was becoming a common occurrence. Dreams that bordered on nightmares flooded his mind, refusing to allow him any peace as your due date approached. The worries of his family interfering, harming the hair on your or your precious child’s head were more often than not at the forefront. However, the dread of his potential incompetence at being the father he needed to be was that night’s perpetrator. 
Snippets of the not so distant future played in his mind, some of which came with a tinge of anxiety. Wrapped up in his arms, sleeping the early dawn away, you were glowing even in your sleep. With the remnants of the nightmare still fresh in his mind, he held you closer worrying that at any moment you’d wake up and make his greatest fear a reality. But, you didn’t and you wouldn’t. Deep down he knew you wouldn’t. 
You stirred in his embrace. The murmurs of discomfort tugged on his heartstrings. His long fingers stroked the side of your face, to which your huffs silenced and returned to gentle hums of slumber. The morning was creeping on the horizon, and despite being wide awake, he chose to stay next to you, not wanting to miss a moment.
The sun casted and set in the sky with the cycle of the days, each one pressed with preparations for the bundle you would soon be welcoming into the world. The room had already been completed due to his eagerness to have it be perfect in every way, so now the waiting game needed to be played.
He was sure to remain nearby, especially in your third trimester. Adamant in keeping you happy, he couldn’t deny you even the slightest of requests: rubbing your feet, adjusting your pillow, fetching you whatever would satisfy that week’s craving. The favors he did for you were repaid with a thank you and a peck on the cheek. How could they not be when he was doing everything in his power to keep you happy?
When the time came to finally meet your child, the world that had been swirling with nerves and fear began shifting. There was no more room for them anymore—replaced with the jittery elation of becoming a new father, new parents.
Long hours that felt as if there would be no end, until the cries of your little baby, your precious girl, put the grueling wait to a halt. She was placed on your chest, shivering and whimpering in the new world she found herself in. Your exhaustion could never overshadow the joy you shared in that moment. You cooed at her, whispers of affection that she couldn’t yet understand, so your tone carried the pure love you felt to her.
Hair clinging to your forehead with sweat, your face flushed from the physical toll you’d been put through, and the daze you were in from the whirlwind of emotions: even though you’d disagree, he saw you as a vision of beauty. As he placed his lips against your temple, a shaky sigh left you. The smile you held began quivering the longer you looked down at your child.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you.” Your voice cracked with emotion.
Hearing your words tremble shattered any anxiety that’d been harboring within him. He adored you, there was no denying that, and the child you just gave him only strengthened his love. The two loves of his life; neither of you would have the misfortune that plagued him growing up. He’d act as a shield if it came down to it. The burdens that came with being tied to his family, to his mother, to him: he vowed not to let them shatter this image of perfection.
He sat down beside you and wrapped you in his arms as carefully as he could, wanting to hold both of his beautiful girls at the same time.
Crocodile: Longer work hours that pushed into the late evenings were a distraction for the inevitable. Your due date was creeping up on him, enticing a nervous bug that hadn’t bitten him in a long time. Although you understood the reason for his absence, that didn’t stop the bed from feeling cold and rather lonely.
You nudged his office door open, peeking behind the wood to get a look at him working diligently behind the desk. He puffed at his cigar, allowing the thick smoke to cloud his workspace. When you inched closer, his eyes flickered to you. Your silhouette casted a shadow across the floor as you stepped in front of the fireplace. Putting out his cigar, he then waved his hand to clear the gray surrounding him.
“There aren’t many more nights you’ll be able to get a good night’s rest. You should take advantage of that.”
“I haven’t been able to sleep well the last few months because of the size of me,” you laughed in an airy, light-hearted way that never failed to fall on his ears just right. “And you know you’re in the same position as me. You’ll be up with the baby too, won’t you?” You couldn’t hide the slight tinge of sadness in your question. He was clearly having a difficult time adjusting to this change on an emotional level, even though he desperately wished that wasn’t the case.
“I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do it.” His eyes soaked in the sight of you: you were in your ninth month, hair tousled from sleep that couldn’t find you, and held a look of concern on your face. Looking back down at his paperwork, a glimmer of self-reflection reached him. He sighed before getting up from his office chair. “I suppose it’s time for me to turn in.” A gentle place of his hand on the small of your back led you to retire with him.
The howling wind made the windows rattle, making you shudder along with them. A slight pull of your body against his ceased them, though. His large frame offered you protection even over the most trivial things like the sounds at night. Nuzzling his face against the top of your head, his body soon found that fragment of peace it’d been after the past few months. The gentle hums of your breaths mingling, your soft skin against his, and your round belly carrying the most precious thing imaginable: there was a part of him that didn’t want these quiet moments to end. 
Having kept himself preoccupied with work to avoid the reality of fatherhood was now weighing on him. He cared about you, and it was true that he wanted this child. However, his role as the primary provider, the one who you and your child depended on for everything, had him going above and beyond to ensure both of your safety. Every deal, contract, employee, and everyone who came within spitting distance had to be dealt with, because if they weren’t and anything happened to either of you, he would only have himself to blame.
Time ticked forward to the delivery room when you performed a miracle, giving him a baby boy who was almost too perfect to touch. But, he wanted to hold him, both of you, and never let go. Holding him in his arms felt surreal; those soft yawns and grumbles were sounds he didn’t know he could adore so much. While you watched him cradling your bundle of everything that was right with your relationship, the hours of labor finally caught up with you.
As you drifted off to sleep, he kept his full attention on your little boy. His eyes memorized each detail, hoping that he wouldn’t lose such precious moments to time. Every vow he made would be kept, that much was certain. He would do everything in his power to make even the impossible possible.
Mihawk: As you lounged in the shade while reading your book, he caught himself glancing over at you more and more often. The swings of his swords weren’t striking the targets head-on anymore, instead merely nicking the sides in a sad attempt at training. It couldn’t be helped, though. You were stunning. The roundness of your belly and your hand resting on top of it, perhaps feeling the baby kick as you lost yourself in your book, was too much of a distraction.
He stood facing you for a good minute, his eyes never wavering from his typical stare. Those gentle breaths pairing with the rise and fall of your chest were simply too much for him to handle. His steps carried through the tall grass back to the castle.
“Where are you going?”
“I can’t focus here,” he called behind him. Despite the potential harshness of him just up and leaving, you knew better than to take it to heart. As he ventured back inside, you couldn’t help the tugs at the corners of your mouth.
Throwing blows to the training equipment set up inside couldn’t even help him regain his focus. Images if you through all the stages of your pregnancy flooded his mind, taking a toll on his performance. Sloppy swings, kicks, punches: he suddenly grabbed the punching bag. Firmly, he placed both hands on it, his eyes practically burning a hole in the fabric. 
The memories of your tender touches and soft smiles were accompanied with the hopes of what was to come—a family that he kept safe and happy. His fingers dug into the thick skin of the bag as he considered the threat that would undoubtedly take you two into consideration when hunting him down. It was a future which, although inevitable, was something he’d fight against until his last breath. The final punch he threw was for all of those who had already placed a target on his family.
You were in the kitchen when he made his way back around. The kettle was heating up over the stove top and teasing a whistle.
“You shouldn’t be around an open flame and should be resting.” He guided you away from the iron stove towards the sofa. 
“It’s just tea. I’ll be alright.”
“Let me make it for you. You’re the one who’s constantly complaining about swollen feet, remember?” He ignored the slight hmph from you, knowing full well that you’d be glad you took his advice.
Handing you the hot beverage, he then brought over foot rest. Patting it, he reminded you that it would be good for circulation. “You’re always looking out for me, aren’t you,” you sighed at him.
He wasn’t really sure what to say to that. Of course he was, why wouldn’t he be? With him sitting down next to you, you could feel his eyes on you with the same intensity as when you were outside. You winced slightly from the sudden kicks.
“I think our kid is ready to get out,” you laughed softly. “Would you like to feel them kick?” 
His hands gently laid on your belly, instantly feeling the little kicks from inside. His breaths shortened as a surge of emotion took him off guard. Leaning down, he placed a soft kiss where the baby was the most active. “I can’t wait to do that with you in my arms,” he whispered.
Caring gestures and loving support helped carry the both of you through the remainder of the ninth month. The cries of your new baby girl soon filled the room, painting everything outside of it as a mere backdrop. Once she was placed in his arms, he knew he could never love something as much as he loved that little girl. Nothing and no one would touch a hair on her head.
Watching him hold your child only solidified your love for him. A man who was stoic and seemingly immune to emotion was looking down at your baby girl with nothing but the soft love of a new father.
“She’s perfect, isn’t she?”
He nodded while gently stroking her little hand, “Yes, she most definitely is.”
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redfielddoesthings · 2 days ago
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Politely requesting more karate kid fanart 👀
☆ KARATE KID FANART đŸ„‹ ♡⁠˖
Politely makes more karate kid fanart
 ✍
💱 LAWRUSSO · 🎀
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🎀✧⁠*⁠。
Scene study. đŸŽ„
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đŸ•Šïž FOCUS. · 🌿🍃
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Obsessed with the colors of this movie. Absolute cinema đŸŽ„đŸȘ­
Also obsessed with skeleton Johnny Lawrence, thank you very much. 💯 I might be the only one willing to draw Miyagi and I will for sure take the first step to it in the fandom. If nobody's doing it, I AM. đŸȘ­
Hope this is enough. Thank you so much for your ask, feel free to send another anytime!! ♡⁠˖
🎀 – R☆
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band--psycho · 2 days ago
Text
Rafayel x Reader - Change Of Plans
Part three of my 'They find out you got hurt on a mission' series. This will include Zayne, Sylus, Xavier and Rafayel! I'll be posting the other stories over the next few days, please let me know if you want to be tagged in any of them!
This is also my first Rafayel story so please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated!
Thank you all for the continued support! I hope you all enjoy this! 💛
Requests are open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over (thank you to everyone who's requested a story so far, I'm working my way through them!)
I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms!
L&DS Masterlist / Rafayel Masterlist / Join My Taglist
Warnings: Hospitals, discharging ones self from hospital, mentions of pain medication, mentions of injuries
You knew discharging yourself from the hospital wasn’t the most logical thing to do, especially when the nurses were so insistent on you staying there for observation. 
But you weren’t exactly a big fan of hospitals and you weren’t dying, you just had a slightly nasty cut on your side, one that the nurses had already stitched and bandaged up. 
So as long as you were careful, you saw no reason why you couldn’t leave, which is why you were getting a taxi to Rafayels place. 
Perhaps you would’ve stayed, had it been any other day. 
But today, you couldn’t. 
Today, you had a job to do. 
Rafayel was going to a gallery opening tonight, and as his bodyguard, it was your job to be there and ensure nothing happened to him. 
You were well aware that Rafayel could handle himself well enough, but nevertheless, protecting him was still your job
and you knew you’d never forgive yourself if something happened to him and you weren’t there to stop it. 
People at events like this could get nasty, jealous of the success Rafayel had as an artist; you’d seen your fair share of angry competitors attempting to confront him; not that they ever really got very far. 
You were always there to stop them from getting to him. 
90% of the time, people would just walk away, muttering curse words under their breath; then there was then the other 10% that thought it would be easy to take you down, of course you proved them wrong every single time, much to the delight of your boss.  
You sucked in a small, sharp breath as you carefully exited the taxi, making sure not to pull any of your stitches. 
Part of you was regretting not taking any pain medication before you left the hospital, because now that the adrenaline had worn off, the pain of your injury was beginning to set in. 
Another small wince fell from your lips as you knocked on Rafayels door; waiting patiently on the doorstep to be let in either by him or Thomas.
You heard footsteps walking down the hallway before the door opened to reveal your boss standing in the doorway. 
“There you are,” 
You could hear the relief in his voice as he looked at you with a small smile.
“Normally you’re the one chasing me to be on time,” he joked lightly; and you smiled back at him, knowing it was true. 
You’d lost track of the amount of times Rafayel was the one who ran late to these events; quite often you had to lure him away from his sketchbook with the promise that if he was bored in the first half an hour then you two could leave. 
“I’m sorry, my mission ran over a little,” 
You could feel Rayafels eyes on you, his expression remained neutral but you could see in his eyes that he didn’t believe your reason for nearly being late.  
But he didn’t push the matter any further, which you were grateful for. 
You knew that if he knew that you were injured, he wouldn’t go to the event tonight at all. 
That was even more of a reason why you just needed to focus on the task at hand; and hope that that would distract you from the pain you were in. 
He invited you inside; and the two of you were discussing the exit routes from the gallery as well as some of his competitors who were bound to make an appearance tonight; that was until you both heard a car pull up outside. 
It was Thomas. 
You slowly rose to your feet, assuming that you were both going to be leaving to go to the gallery, but instead, Rafayel put his hand on your shoulder, gently pushing you back down to the seat you’d been sitting in. 
“Stay here,” he said softly, vanishing behind the door and heading outside; you saw him talking to Thomas through the window, you didn’t know what Rafayel had said to Thomas, but you could tell that whatever it was, Thomas wasn’t that pleased about it.
When Rafayel came back into the room you were in, he had a beaming smile on his face as he flopped down into  the chair opposite you, “So, what do you want to do tonight?” 
“We’re going to the gallery opening?”  
The confusion in your voice was palpable; not even five minutes ago you were discussing the necessary safety precautions to take at tonight's events, now you weren’t going atl all?
You were used to Rafael changing his mind about going to events like this, but it just never normally happened this quickly.
“No we’re not,” he answered simply, picking up a nearby pencil and twirling it between his fingers, “I don’t feel like going anymore?”
“Why?” You questioned, mentally preparing yourself to have to persuade him to go. 
“They happen quite often, I’m sure I won’t miss anything,” he nonchalantly answered; before his enchanting pinkish-purple eyes met yours, “Besides, I think you could use some rest,miss Hunter” 
“I’m fine, Raf,” you countered back, a little too quickly, an action that wasn’t missed by Rafael
“Is that so? He asked quizzically, narrowing his eyes slightly,before putting the pencil on the table in front of him before taking a few steps towards you,his eyes never leaving yours.“Then why were you wincing earlier,”
You could have stuck with what you’d originally said; that your mission had simply taken longer than planned, but you knew Rafayel would see straight through your white lie as he already had. 
You hated having to tell people that you’d been injured during a mission, you were a hunter, you were trained to avoid getting hurt; so when situations like this happened, it made you feel slightly humiliated. 
And now you were going to have to tell the person who hired you to be his own personal bodyguard, that you got hurt during a mission and ended up in hospital.
“What happened?” 
You noticed a slight change in the colour of  his eyes; it wasn’t the first time you’d seen it happen, though it only ever seemed to happen when he was worried about something. 
And right now, that something was you. 
He was worried about you. 
“I
I got hurt on my mission,” you mumbled your admission almost so quietly you weren’t sure if Rafayel had even heard it. 
“Why aren’t you at the hospital?” he asked, placing his hand on top of yours gently, running his thumb just under one of the cuts on the back of your hand. 
“I was,” you admitted, “But I discharged myself.” 
“Because of the gallery opening?” 
You nodded simply to his question. 
“Your commitment to your job is admirable, cutie, even if a little foolish,” he praised, moving his other hand to the side of your face, cupping your cheek delicately as though you were going to break if he held too harshly. 
“You should’ve told me,” he whispered, “I would’ve come and kept you company.” 
You couldn’t deny how his words, along with his actions, made you feel

A feeling that you’d been trying to push away for the past few months.
“Raf, that’s sweet, but we both know you have better things to do with your time than sit with me in the hospital,” you stated matter of factly; making a small chuckle fall from your bosses lips. 
“Spending time with you is one of the best ways I could possibly spend my time,” he cooed, leaning his head down slightly before pressing a soft kiss on your cheek. 
“Raf-” you breathed, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks as you savored the closeness of him. 
“Get some rest, cutie,” he quietly said, before grabbing the blanket that was behind the chair and placing it over you, “I’ll wake you up in a little while when our food is here.” 
You could’ve argued with him; but arguing would’ve been useless; and in all honesty, you were exhausted, so you complied with what your boss was telling you to do; you got yourself settled in the chair and slowly let your exhaustion take over. 
Rafayel watched you for a little while; until he was certain that you were asleep.
He knew that you were fine. 
But that didn’t stop him from worrying about you. 
When he saw you wince as you got out of the taxi, he felt his heart ache, he knew that something had happened, that was why he told Thomas that he wasn’t going to Gallery Opening tonight, he didn't want to put you at risk of getting hurt anymore than you already had.
He wanted to keep you safe. 
And he was going to ensure that that happened; that you were safe, no matter what.
Tagglist:
@xacatalepsyx @stiltdeer-snootnoodle @deathkat657 @book-dragon03 @fangirlsfandomsss @evilldentists @hao-ming-8 @worm-in-a-bug @babygirl-panda19 @tasha-1994 @popcorn-mochi01 @cheesemachine44 @thegalaxysedge22 @chubby-bun-bun @whimsiecat @callme-amaya
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sozila · 9 hours ago
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nanami as a girl dad (happy 100 followers!)
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synopsis: just a very long drabble about nanami kento as a father to a girl.
pairing: husband!nanami kento x wife!reader, first time girl parents
warnings: descriptions of sexual activities, mdni.
masterlist | part two
a/n:
this was originally just a little blurb i thought of bc of a post i reblogged, but i decided to keep it as a treat until now! thank you for 100 followers (now 110, i can't keep up with you guys☠), i truly appreciate it! 💕 i hope you enjoy đŸ€­ so sorry i split this, but it's probs too long together 😣 the next part will be up tomorrow or the day after tho 😜 much luv đŸ€!!
p.s. subtle reminder all requests and asks are open
 đŸ©·
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nanami as a girl dad!
you were caught by surprise when you found out you were pregnant. you and your husband weren’t exactly trying for a kid, but you weren’t taking steps to prevent it either. you stopped birth control when you got married to kento, which was coming up on two years ago. 
you weren’t one to track your cycle, but even then you knew it had been a good while since you had one. three pregnancy tests later, you were sure this wasn’t a false positive. you slumped on the bathroom floor in shock and joy. all you could think about was kento’s reaction.
you and kento wanted a family. you established this very early on. he wanted marriage, kids, the whole nine yards. he was so collected in his life he had sorted all serious life decisions as soon as you started dating to avoid any and all conflicts of interest. that was your beloved, alright. the calm and collected one. he held down the world so you could live freely and happily. 
but one thing that took you by surprise was something he didn’t have to outwardly tell you, but you deduced over time. 
kento nanami was obsessed with the thought of having a daughter.
anytime you’d be out shopping, you’d see him linger at the baby section going through tutus and little pink onesies.
he’d send you videos of babies during work, which you scolded him for. (they were very adorable, however.) they always seemed to be daddy and daughter ones.
when you were putting away laundry, you noticed in his tie drawer a tiny pink bow tucked away. you giggled to yourself. maybe he’d bring it up with you when he was ready.
and when your friends had their daughter early last year, you saw the way kento’s eyes twinkled with hope when you both visited the newborn. he asked so many questions to the new parents, what books they read and where they bought their stroller from. he was so engrossed in jotting notes down you practically had to tear him away to go home that night. 
so it was safe to say your husband was very much excited in the idea of having a baby, especially a little girl.
you knew the chance of not having a girl was there, but something told you it was fate your first would be one.
you couldn’t keep the secret for very long because just as how you found that sweet little bow so easily, your husband was quite the detective himself as well. 
you were reading on the couch when kento bursts in the living room with a very familiar stick in his hand, face incredulous.
“darling, please tell me this isn’t one of your friend’s.” his voice was filled with raw emotion; you hadn’t seen him tear up this badly since your wedding day.
you throw your book to the side and give him a betraying laugh. “did you dig through our bathroom’s trash?! you didn’t even let me surprise you properly!” you protest, your eyes welling up as well.
he ignores the accusation and instead falls to his knees in front of you and cups your stomach, fully sobbing now. “we’re pregnant,” he says. “you’re carrying our baby.” he’s buried his face in your thighs, trying to hide the ugly sobs leaving him. you pull his face up to yours and have him to look at you. “yes, ken. we’re pregnant.”
if kento wasn’t already very protective of you, he definitely was now. holding doors, lifting things, hell- even making breakfast was all getting done by him. your hormones made it very hard to deal with his overbearing behavior and you ended up getting angry every time you were barred from doing something.
“ken, let me make my own goddamn coffee or i’m picking up this knife.” you grit out, shuffling groggily to the counter in disheveled clothing, your tiny baby bump peeking from under your tank top. the man silently backs away with his hands up. he knew what battles he lost with you.
(he still turned the pot on every morning. just to keep the water hot, of course.)
he also was big on making sure you got all the nutrition you needed; his cooking focused on your health while also incorporating your favorites. it definitely helped that he was a phenomenal cook.
your morning sicknesses were brutal. you ended up an entire two weeks of being woken up at 3am running to the bathroom to puke your guts out. kento took note of all the foods that made you nauseous and remembered not to buy them.
however, kento was buying a ton of baby gear. bottles, pump machine, diapers, bibs, everything. soon your bonus room (soon baby’s room!) was filled with miscellaneous items that kento kept bringing, which again: you scolded him for.
(he never listened. that man is stubborn too.)
the weeks fly by and soon it’s time to see the sex of your baby. kento’s the one who’s been micromanaging all your checkups and helped pick out an OB-GYN that you both loved. he’s been calling off work every appointment, and you once cried in the car because you felt so overwhelmed with happiness that your husband was so supportive and attentive. he had to rock you for a good five minutes before you went in. 
“uncross those little legs, baby..” your doctor cooed as she moved the cold device over your belly. you’re gripping kento’s hand with a vice-like hold. you knew you wanted a girl so badly, and you’d love the boy equally— you just knew how much it meant to kento. his eyes were also trained on the sonogram, nervous. his foot was tapping intensely and it only stopped when you touched his knee. you both share a loving nonverbal glance before turning your attention back to the screen.
“congratulations mommy and daddy, it’s a little girl!” your doctor exclaims with a whisper. 
kento gives a shudder and smiles at you, overjoyed. you look at your little girl on the screen again and immediately burst into tears, throwing yourself on kento’s chest.
your doctor slips out for a moment to let you both recollect yourselves.
he’s been repeating to you in soft whispers, “i’m going to be a girl dad, i’m going to have a little girl!” 
your belly started showing a lot earlier than you thought, but genuinely you didn’t mind. your over-prepared husband already bought comfort clothing that were loose but cute, and even maternity jeans?? you burst out laughing when he showed you them, and he was confused by your response. they’re extremely efficient..” he defensively said, a pout on his lips.
another weird upside of your pregnancy was that kento was never working overtime at his corporate job. he practically races out of the office to come home to you and the little biscuit, something you started calling the baby.
and of course, he loved seeing you pregnant the most. sometimes he would come home and immediately go in for kisses, which led to you laying on kitchen counter spread open for him as he eats you out eagerly.
“god, you look so sexy like this,” kento murmured between you. he has his arms hooked around your thighs, but his hands were firmly on your round tummy. you could see his wedding band glint as he stretched his hand over the top; that definitely turned you on.
you’re not even there mentally from all the white stars you were seeing (your husband had that effect on you). “mm.. yeah?” you reply weakly, trailing off into soft moans. you were blissed out and so happy you were having this sexy man’s child.
safe to say when the summer heat really kicked in and you were in crop tops and summer dresses, he couldn’t keep his hands off of you. or his dick out of you. you were worried the baby would be uncomfortable, but kento reassured you he took the utmost care in keeping you and the baby first.
given your hormones, it became free-range pounding all around the house after that talk.
you both knew you didn’t want a huge baby shower or any parties, but a small gathering of your friends and family at your house was held by the request of your mother. you had told both your and kento’s parents ahead of time you were pregnant, and the gender. they were both equally excited for the new addition.
you had some of your college friends attend, and similarly, kento’s came too. you had known satoru gojo and suguru geto since you first started dating kento, and they’d become your friends as well. when you saw them, satoru was instantly raving over you and your “pregnancy glow” and how he and suguru would be the rich gay uncles that would spoil their new niece or nephew. (it was no doubt their present was the largest on the table.)
kento was mildly irritated with satoru hovering you so much, but you swatted your husband and told him to let it be. 
some of kento’s students also came because you knew they were very dear to kento. a pink haired yuuji and his two friends greeted you with small gifts they scrounged up with their allowances. you thanked them warmly and chatted a while before the anticipated event of your gender reveal.
given your family was non-sorcerers, the reveal was not themed like you originally wanted to— where kento would pull a cursed tool from a box, and it would be either pink or blue. kento had to break it to you that he’s never actually seen a pink cursed tool, nor did he own one. it sounded way cooler in your head, but kento was against having any sort of weapons at your party anyways. 
so, the classic cake cutting was what you chose. a simple white cake with “girl or boy?” in fancy lettering, and the hidden center was filled with pink frosting.
everyone gathers around you and kento as you cut the cake, and once you both hold it up, they all erupt in cheers. 
you kiss kento sweetly on the lips and smile up at him. "thank you, my love," you whispered to him before your family came to bear hug you both.
you could’ve sworn you hear satoru sobbing in the background while egregiously taking candid pictures of the moment, but you were too wrapped up in the hugs from your husband and immediate family to really hear. 
you started to really collect the pink items after that. your favorite was a pair of dolly shoes with a matching mommy set nobara dropped by with one day, saying she just had to buy them when she was out at the mall. you were so touched she even thought of you and your baby on her personal time. she waved your thanks with a smile, and only requested that she gets babysitting duty over the boys if need be. she said quote, “they are never trusted to be alone with a child”. you laugh and accept the deal.
you receive your due date at the next appointment, which is around january. your OB-GYN tells you your baby girl is growing accordingly and everything is going in good time!
your husband develops a habit of resting his hand on your belly all the time. sleeping, he’s the big spoon with a hand under your baby girl. reading on the couch with a hand on you. he gives your belly a kiss every time he leaves for work in the morning. (you too, of course. his lovely, beautiful wife.)
he comes into the bathroom one day while you’re at your vanity braiding your hair for the night, a pensive look on his face. 
“what is it, love?” you say, looking at him from the reflection in the mirror. he hums, twirling his wedding band.
“have you been thinking of names? it’s no rush really, i just wanted to know if the letters would fit in an engraving on my ring.” your hearts swells and you can’t help but let out a small adoring sigh. before you know it big fat tears are rolling down your face and the hormones once again got the best of you. you’re going to give your partner a heart attack with all the big emotions you’ve been feeling!
he’s already dropping to his knees to embrace you and reassure you. “darling, please don’t cry.. you’re making me sad,” “b
” hiccup! “
but you’re so-!” hiccup! “sweet..!” 
you eventually settle for a name related to new beginnings, considering your baby girl was set to be born in the first month of the new year. aurora.
you yourself also got into your nesting instincts, finding cute bookshelves and other items to be built in your online shopping cart. little did you know kento had already ordered them and was on a mission to build them before the baby girl was here.
one night, you found your precious husband asleep with a book in his hand and a notebook by his side. it was a parenting book.. your heart squeezed. you move to pick the book from his grip when you notice what he wrote in the notebook. “always remember daddy loves you my dear.” he was writing letters to your little biscuit. you had to leave your bedroom so kento wouldn’t hear your happy sobs.
after a good grueling nine months, your due date was quickly approaching. kento had requested time off, which his boss begrudgingly allowed. the man knew that it wasn’t worth it fighting with his hardest worker. you were waddling everywhere; kento thought you were positively adorable for a pregnant lady. “you’re not just my beautiful wife right now, you’re my beautiful wife carrying my daughter,” he would tell you. 
it would be one in the morning, three days before your expected due date when you would feel a large cramp in your belly. you knew your little girl had a knack for kicking and dancing, but this definitely felt different from before. you were in bed with kento, his body engulfed around yours. you flip with a wince to face him, tapping his face gently. “ken.. ken, the baby’s coming,” you manage with a small groan. your husband practically leaps out of bed when he hears the words come out of your mouth. before you could blink, he was already putting on a shirt and his glasses, rushing to get your hospital bag. “don’t worry, my love!” you know he was uber prepared for this moment. you push off the bed with much might when you feel your husband’s arms around you, holding you up right. he looked beyond worried, but his words were nothing but soothing. “iv’e got you, honey. we just need to get to the car, okay?” 
the delivery itself was also rather gruelling, you ended up in labor for the whole night. aurora nanami was born at 11:42 AM, five pounds even. 
when you heard your daughter cry for the first time, you couldn’t help but cry yourself. kento was right beside you, holding your hand as you had given birth to your child.
during skin to skin, he was looking at you and aurora in absolute awe. you gave him a small smile. “you’re so strong and amazing, do you know that?” he tells you. 
when he held aurora for the first time, you knew he was enchanted. your girl was immediately his entire world.
after staying at the hospital for the required amount of time your OB-GYN suggested, you tell kento you want to rest at home. he’s already packing the bags as those words leave your mouth.
the drive home was extremely slow because he wouldn’t drive over 15 mph, earning tons of honks and angry drivers. he couldn’t care less, he had his tired wife and newborn in tow!
several months later..
something you and kento learned very quickly was that your girl was extremely, extremely smart.
she was walking well before her age range, saying “mama” and “papa”, and even learning her numbers.
kento told you it was all your genetics, which you proudly accepted. 
also, aurora was born with a surprising amount of hair on her head! she had the same golden blonde hair as your husband, which he proudly accepted. 
“my little flower, would you like pigtails or a ponytail?” the chubby face staring back at him was in contemplation. she holds up a “two” with her fingers. kento nearly cries on the spot— she knew that pigtails meant two! “alright my love! two it is.”
you also found out your husband was learning new hairstyles in his free time, and used you as his model. “darling, aurora still has her baby hairs.. we can barely tie it as it is,” you tell him over your shoulder with a giggle. he wasn’t listening, he was too engrossed in the youtube video of fishtail braiding— the next step after he had mastered regular braids on your hair. “hush, my dear. natalie was just about to tell me where the left strand goes!” 
when her first birthday came, it was a huge celebration. kento spared no expense to make the party memorable. 
you had baked her smash cake and ordered a separate more elegant cake for guests— kento would not stop bothering you in the kitchen that morning, his hands all over you from the back while you tried to finish your work in a timely manner. your swatting did nothing to fend him off.
“ken, if you keep rubbing me like that, you’re getting a second kid.” “who said that wasn’t my goal, dear?”
the party had pretty much the same people from your baby shower, this time including some families you met at your mommy and me class at the gym. 
your baby girl was sporting a hair bow you had definitely recognized— then remember it’s the same one you saw in kento’s drawer a year ago. how cute you finally get to see it on her.
aurora was all smiles, thank god. she wasn’t a fussy baby at all in her first months, but you knew she was still a kid that could get cranky randomly. you were glad it was such a seamless and perfect day.
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once again, so grateful for you guys! <3 happy 100 rahhhh 😈
peace luv bathtub!!!
heart divider by @cafekitsune
© sozila 2024, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other mediums or sites. cross-posted on ao3 and tumblr under same alias.
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nottswitch · 2 days ago
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Pleasee 26 and 123 with lorenzo and stutt đŸ§šâ€â™€ïžđŸ§šâ€â™€ïžđŸ§šâ€â™€ïž
hi, thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy this 💘
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prompt list
26. "come to bed."
123. "fix your makeup."
۶ৎ navigation ; masterlist ; enzo m-list ; how to request
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18+ smut
the way your ass moved in that skirt was the most sinful thing lorenzo had seen in his life. his darkened eyes were watching your every move with the intensity of a true snake, burning invisible holes thorough your body wherever they went. his demeanor was as nonchalant as ever, though, his legs spread wide on the bed, his hands clasped on his stomach. the grey sweatpants he was wearing did absolutely nothing to hide a visible bulge at the front, throbbing every few seconds underneath the thin fabric.
you were completely oblivious to his growing arousal, covering your lips with another layer of shiny lipgloss. lorenzo bit the inside of his cheek, his own lips already curled up in a smirk, and moved one of his hands down his body. his palm rested on top of his clothed erection, slowly moving up and down, which made his cock twitch even more. the way your lips shone in the bright lights coming from your vanity mirror made him imagine all the different ways he could make them shine from other things.
you smacked your lips together, evenly spreading out the gloss. the sounds went straight down south for lorenzo, whose hand was already slipping into his sweats.
"come to bed," he murmured, his voice smug as usual, but with a certain huskiness to it that immediately let you know what kind of thoughts were running through his head. you turned around, your eyebrow quirking up at the sight opening up to your eyes – lorenzo’s hand clearly moving, covered by the grey fabric of the only item of clothing on his body.
"well, babe, i’m going out," you answered, your voice filled with amusement and a hint of desire – it had never failed to arouse you just how much your mere existence could turn your boyfriend on. but then again, he was turned on nearly 24/7, the feeling only heightened by you being close – in this case, in the same room.
"don’t give a shit, honey,” lorenzo murmured, his hand lazily pumping and smearing precum all over his aching length. "shouldn’t’ve put this goddamn lipgloss on, baby. because the way it looks on you makes me think you’ve been planning this all along."
"no idea what you’re talking about, enz," you drawled, your voice a sing-song picture of innocence. however, the slow steps you were taking towards him were anything but. stopping right at the foot of the bed, you looked down at your boyfriend, your eyes eating up the entirety of his body and stopping right where his hand was still moving, the sweats revealing exactly what was happening underneath.
lorenzo smirked, noticing exactly where your gaze lingered, and it only fueled him to continue. if he knew you well, and he did, he really did, you’d give in right about

his train of thought was interrupted by the mattress shifting slightly under your weight as you climbed onto the bed. his legs were already wide open, creating a perfect spot for you to fit right between them. your hand slowly, teasingly moved up his thigh, reaching his moving hand and pushing it away, all action coming to a halt. he removed it without questions, tucking his arms under his head and sinking into the pillow, watching you pulling his sweatpants down with that same smirk that never seemed to leave his lips.
now.
the tip of lorenzo’s cock was suddenly wrapped up in the warmth of your mouth, eliciting a breathy ‘fuck’ from him. your tongue swirled around, collecting the salty precum and dropping it onto his length in a thick blob, mixed with your saliva. your head lowered, taking him whole, inch by inch, until the back of your throat wasn’t so empty anymore.
"so eager, huh?" he murmured, the small sound of you gagging sending a pleasant vibration through his body. you looked up, meeting his sly stare with your eyes, and the sight of you in this position, with your shiny lips encircling his member almost made him cum on the spot. of course, he didn’t show it, only giving you a somewhat breathless chuckle as you started bobbing your head up and down.
traces of your gloss smeared all over his heated flesh as you sucked him off like he was the tastiest lollipop you’d ever had. lorenzo never strayed away from watching you, only sometimes glancing up to your ass, stuck out in the air in that delicious-looking short skirt that swayed each time you fully shoved yourself onto his cock. when your tongue started helping in bringing him to the peak of pleasure, lorenzo’s hips twitched and a gasp escaped him, signaling that his orgasm was getting closer and closer.
half a minute later, you sat up on your knees, your tongue swiping along your bottom lip to collect every last drop of white coating it. enzo watched you with a heated, yet irritatingly smug look, not bothering to pull his sweatpants up just yet.
"fix your makeup," he said with a chuckle, his tongue rolling against the inside of his cheek. "although, i do have to say, baby, that i much prefer you with this kinda gloss."
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