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coco-loco-nut · 5 months

Text

Mama

pairing: Pierre x reader

summary: Pierre and his annoyed, heavily pregnant, wife

TW: references to spicy activities, pregnancy, cussing, use of French learned via Duolingo and high-school French class from like 4 years ago

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“I regret ever letting your French ass charm me,” you scowl at your husband who picked you up at the train station in London. He had been away for a week, and initially you did miss your husband, but the pregnancy began to really wear on you this week.

“I missed your too, mamour,” Pierre kisses you, taking your bags and placing them in his rental car.

“I should’ve stayed home,” you grumble as he helps you into the car. You missed your French home, the villa was sunny and it wasn’t England, but you promised your sweet husband you would come to Silverstone. He came straight from

Pierre knows you are hurting, the third trimester taking a toll on you, so he doesn’t take any of your words to heart, instead he intends on showing you how much he loves you.

“I wish I were home too,” Pierre squeezes your hand gently once he is in the car. He has been hoping and praying that the baby comes during the summer break, just so he can spend time with you. You hadn’t been to a race since Imola and Monaco and you were able to hide the pregnancy pretty easily with flowy dresses. Despite being pregnant with twins, you didn’t balloon up until right after.

“What would Mrs. Glasly and the Baby Gasly’s like to do first, get to the hotel or get some food?” Pierre asks and you think about it for a second.

“Mmm food. Chicken nuggets and fries, preferably,” you give Pierre puppy dog eyes despite telling him you hated him moments ago.

“There is a McDonald’s in the next town over from Silverstone. I won’t tell if you don’t,” Pierre says, you swear in that moment that you fall in love with him all over again.

“I would never,” you gasp before yawning a little. At this point, you could take a nap anywhere, despite being extremely uncomfortable with the babies dropping. Some luck happened and your thirty-sixth week of pregnancy falls at the very start of summer break.

“Take a nap, chérie, we have about an hour and a half,” Pierre tells you as he pulls out of the parking lot, turning the music on softly. You don’t need to be told twice as you doze off. You don’t even wake up to Pierre ordering a ridiculous amount of food at McDonald’s, you only wake up when he gently shakes your shoulder.

“Mon ange, tu dois te lève,” Pierre says gently, coaxing you awake.

“Mm, mon bonhuer, feed me and take me to bed,” you say sleepily, a sly smile on your face.

“The things you do to me,” Pierre groans, getting out of the car. You carry the food into the hotel from the garage so his trainer can’t yell at him.

“Y/n! How are you doing?” Charles comes up beside you. He knew about the pregnancy, despite Pierre and you keeping it under wraps, only because the both of you attended dinner at the Leclerc’s house during the Monaco GP. It's only natural, you were Pierre's childhood best friend. Charles was Pierre's childhood best friend, you tolerated the both of them.

“How do you think,” you glare at the Monégasque.

“Maman asked me to give you this, and I added a little something too,” Charles says, handing Pierre a bag and kissing your cheek.

“Thank you, Charlot,” Pierre waves to his friend, guiding you to the hotel room.

“Pierre, this is so good,” you practically moan as you eat the nuggets.

“You gotta stop talking like that, you’re driving me nuts,” he groans. You grin, biting into a fry.

“Or what?” your tease, his eyes darken. As soon as you both finish your dinner, he is kissing you.

“Pierre!” you groan, he helps you stand up, moving towards the bed.

"Do you want to do this?" Pierre looks at you with concern.

"Pierre, I am not a glass doll, I am pregnant and horny and I miss your cuddles, and I haven't seen you in weeks. I think you know what I want," you look Pierre in the eyes who is quick to help you into a safe, yet comfortable position. It is safe to say that the two of you missed each other very, very much.

You woke up in the morning, a rare occurrence of sleeping through the night, to your husband's arm wrapped around you, holding you close to him.

"Pierre," you nudge him. He hums, only half awake. "If you don't let me go, I may puke on this bed," you whisper to him. Pierre quickly wakes up and helps you to the bathroom. He had to get up soon anyway for the race.

"You ok?" Pierre continues rubbing your back after you've puked.

"I look like shit, feel like shit, and you watched me puke, I think the answer is no," you groan, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Why don't we shower, then I'll order some breakfast while I get ready?" Pierre offers, helping you undress and get into the shower. Like the gentleman he is, he helps you clean where you can't reach anymore, and in return, you scrub the shampoo into his hair.

The two of you eat quickly and get ready for the day. You both get in a chauffeured car and head to the circuit, you left a little later than usual due to eating breakfast in the hotel instead of in the paddock. Cameras capture the two of you walking in, more like you waddling as Pierre walks with an arm around you. He heads into a strategy meeting while you rest on the couch in his room.

"Apparently social media is blowing up over pictures of us walking in. They may love pregnant you more than I do, and that is nearly impossible," Pierre tells you when he gets back, the F2 race playing quietly in the background.

"I'm glad someone is enjoying it, because I want them out," you groan as they kick you simultaneously. Pierre helps you stand up and wraps his arms around you, hands under your bump. You relax into his chest, letting him take some of the pressure off of your body for a little bit. His touch always seems to calm the babies down.

"I know, just another month, then we will have our precious babies. You are doing incredibly, you will be the best mom," he praises you causing you to blush.

"They will have the coolest daddy," you hum, enjoying the temporary relief.

"Pierre, you gotta do your warm-ups," his trainer knocks on the doorframe. "Y/n, I can help you with some stretches that may provide some relief and better mobility," the trainer offers as Pierre slowly lowers your stomach, trying to ease the weight back. You follow Pierre and his trainer to the weight room. The trainer mainly focuses on helping you, claiming Pierre knew what he was doing, only stepping away when a spotter was required. Apparently, his wife was recently pregnant so he did a lot of research to help her.

"Congratulations, Y/n, you and Pierre will make great parents," despite neither of you particularly caring for Esteban, you thanked him anyway and wished him a good race. Pierre took you on some light strolls across the paddock, frequently being stopped by drivers, before the race where you sat in the garage and watched with his team. Pierre got in the points and you both celebrated by going home to France and sleeping.

By the time summer break rolled around, the nursery was filled with gifts from drivers and teams. Charles was begging the both of you to either name one of your babies after him or name him godfather. He was pleased to learn he was going to be named godfather regardless. A few days into break, your babies decided it was time to meet the world.

"Pierre, car, now," you look at your husband from the passenger seat.

"Charles! I am panicking! Yes, I am getting in the car. Fine you, can talk to y/n while I drive," Pierre says, frazzled, as he drives away from your home, the back seat filled with what you might need, two car seats already installed.

"Hello Charles," you say into the phone, quite amused despite the contractions becoming more frequent.

"Hi y/n, are you ready to meet the two rascals who have been torturing you for months? You will get to be a mom to three babies, god knows Pierre needs his mom right now," Charles laughs, helping to distract you as Pierre flies down roads.

"Mhmm, I'm excited to know the genders if anything. Are you still coming out later this week?" You ask him, the conversation oddly calm.

"I'm getting my plane ready now, I have to be there to meet my godchildren," Charles informs you and you feel another contraction coming on.

"Great, I'll be sure to hold them in for you. I gotta go, see you soon," you laugh through the pain, quickly hanging up. Pierre cut off an impossible amount of time, granted you didn't live too far from the hospital. Pierre is more stressed than you are, it's cute.

After 6 hours of labor, you and Pierre have greeted the most beautiful babies, at least in your eyes. The love of your life has now expanded to include the little bundles.

"Congratulations," Charles says, the first to arrive since you and Pierre didn't live too close to your families.

"Meet your godchildren, Anthoine Romeo and Genevieve Charlie," you smile tiredly at Pierre, who helped you through your labor, even as you screamed some very nasty things at him.

"They are perfect," Charles looks at you, a little teary as he holds Genevieve, "thank you," he says softly.

"We named them after the two people who have always stood beside us," you say, Pierre fascinated by his son. You really were the luckiest woman alive.

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly imagines #charles leclerc

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pixiesfz · 4 months

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microphone drop j.f x reader

plot: In which Vanessa forgets to tell Jessie she is mic’d up and all she talks about is you

warning: just fluff

Jessie was in the gym after training when Vanessa caught her.

“Jeff, Jflem, Jessatron, the Jessanator, the-“

“Hi” Jessie cut her friend off before she said random words with ‘jess’ in front of it.

“Whatchu up to?” Vanessa asked and Jessie motioned to the weights next to her “nice, hot your PB yet?”

Jessie crossed her head “no but y/n is helping me at home”

Vanessa smiled at the mention of you, she thought you were good for Jessie. You made her happy and Sinc always says she would never forget how giddy Jessie got after the first Australian friendly and you asked to swap shirts with her.

“How is y/n/n?”

Jessie blushed, “good, really good uhm did I tell you about my plan yet or-“

“No tell me, tell me now”

Even Vanessa forgot she was mic’d.

“Well after international break and before Olympics I was planning on proposing and-“ “what!” Vanessa jumped up in excitement

Jessie looked around nervously “yes?”

“This is huge Jessie” Vanessa smiled at her and she rubbed her already red cheeks “How are you going to do it?”

Jessie sat down next to Vanessa and pulled out her phone, excited to go into detail about this with someone.

“Okay so this is the ring, I saw her look at it before when we were buying a gift for her sister, it kinda gave me the whole idea in the first place but anyway” she rambled before going to her next photo of a FaceTime call with y/n’s parents as they gave a thumbs up.

“Then I got the permission from her parents but she likes to call them her rentals which I don’t get”

“Oh it’s like Australian slang there, parental figures without the ‘pa’” Vanessa explained and Jessie’s eyes widened as she finally got it “How do you know that?”

“Ellie”.

Jessie nodded before swiping to the next picture of confirmed plane tickets to Australia, your homeland “she thinks we’re going on a spontaneous trip to see her family, which we are but I’m also going to propose to her there” she explained and Vanessa swore she had never seen her captain so happy.

“And then I bought her this dress she always said she wanted but she said it was too cold to wear in London so I got it so she could wear it in Australia” Jessie said, swiping to the next picture as Vanessa realised Jessie had made an album dedicated to the planning of the big event.

“You going to do a speech”

“I want to try, I wrote one but I’m not that great at remembering lines” Jessie said, scratching behind her ear “that’s fine you’re good at thinking on the spot and also knowing y/n she will be saying yes even before your knee hits the ground”

Jessie smiled “I only plan on doing the ‘proposal’ thing once so I want it to be perfect for her”

Vanessa slapped her friend in the shoulder supportively “I’m sure y/n will think it’s perfect no matter what”.

It wasn’t until later when Jessie had finished spotting Vanessa on chest pressed and the social media came over asking for the mic was when her face paled over.

“You were mic’d the entire time?” She asked, her cheeks red as panic now evident on her face.

“Did I forget to tell you?” Vanessa asked as she thought back to their conversation.

“You know you cannot use any of that”.

#woso #woso soccer #woso community #woso x reader #jessie fleming #jflem #Jeff #canada wnt #matildas #canada women

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fredwkong · 9 months

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Taking a Trip

Arne was more than excited to visit Vancouver for the first time. Everyone said that he could have easily seen beautiful mountains on a trip to Switzerland, but Arne wanted something a little bit extra inspiring on a continent he had never seen before. His life at home had become a little monotonous at his corporate job, and the dating pool was as unpromising as ever for a shy, reclusive man in his mid-20s.

With his frugal nature, Arne balked at the hotel prices in the city, and quickly found himself looking at short-term rental sites. The prices were, if possible, even worse. Finally, he followed a link to a retro-looking gay room-sharing website and saw an ad that read: “Shared room, accessible, perfect for tourists.” The price was well within Arne’s range, and it was within walking distance of transit. He booked it without a second thought.

It was only as the taxi drove away after dropping Arne and his suitcase on the curb that he had second thoughts. He followed the instructions the owner, Julian, had sent him and went around the small house to the back, where there was an external door to the basement. All around the door were skateboards, leaning on the concrete foundation, each with a unique design painted on its underside. As he knocked, Arne felt a tremor up his spine, like an anticipation of danger.

Before he could react in any way, he heard heavy feet and voices behind the door. With a clunk of the latch, the door swung open to reveal a young man with dark, curly hair and a thin moustache with no shirt on his tanned, muscular body. “What’s up, bro? You must be Arne,” he said in a deep, slow voice, holding out a big hand that engulfed Arne’s, even though they were the same size. “I’m Julian, your host.”

Arne opened his mouth to reply, but he lost his train of thought as an eye-watering stench poured off Julian’s bare, hairy muscles. He almost seemed to steam in the cold air. The smell was a mix of stale sweat, cooking spices, musky body odour, and, over all of it, the stench of weed.

After a moment, as Arne struggled to control the cough that threatened to burst out of him, Julian seemed to realise he was bare from the hips up. “Oh, sorry, bro,” he said, lazily backing away into the basement apartment. “I was, uh, busy.” He chuckled and moved away, grabbing a stained green shirt from an equally stained couch.

Reluctantly, Arne followed Julian through the doorway, and immediately realised that it was not only Julian who stank. The smell permeated the whole space, making Arne lightheaded. He wished that he had thought to bring air freshener in his luggage.

The basement suite was small, with low ceilings. Behind the couch was a counter to delineate the tiled kitchen, while in front of the couch was a low, beat-up table with a bong and other smoking paraphernalia scattered across it. To the side, a couple of doors led to what Arne hoped were the bedrooms and bathroom.

One door banged open, and another guy stumbled out into the living room. With a beanie over his dishevelled hair and his shirt on inside out, it was clear that he had dressed hurriedly. He looked over Arne with bloodshot eyes, his movements clumsy as he pulled on a thin jacket. “Hey man,” he grunted. As the man waved, another scent washed over Arne. This time, the skunk-smell was tempered with dried cum and a tangy, earthy flavour that hit the back of his throat.

“We lost track of time. Omar was just leaving.” At Julian’s gesture, Omar brushed past Arne and out the door. Arne turned to see him grab one of the skateboards leaning against the concrete stairs before the door shut behind him.

Arne was still shaking his head in an attempt to clear out Omar’s stench when Julian grabbed his bag. “In here, dude.”

Julian led Arne back through the door Omar had burst through into a room with two twin beds, exactly as small as Arne had feared. “Obvi, I won’t have guys over while you’re here, bro,” Julian said, handing Arne a spare key. “But if you like, we can always push the beds together for extra sleeping space.” He raised a lascivious eyebrow at Arne.

Blushing furiously, Arne made several aborted gestures. “Uh, no, no, no thank you,” he muttered, his accent thickening.

“Your loss, bro.” Julian raised both his arms to show his hairy armpits, posing as his musk assaulted Arne’s nostrils. “Just tell me if you change your mind, right? If you need me, I’ll prob-ly either be here smoking and painting, or over at the skate park, smoking and skating.”

Chuckling dumbly, Julian left the room. Moments later, while he sat on his bed and trying to work up the courage to leave, Arne’s nose was tickled by a waft of thick, numbing pot smoke.

It was just a few days, Arne reasoned. He’d be out all day anyway. He probably wouldn’t even see Julian that much, even if they did sleep in the same room. Plus, with a quick check of his bank balance, Arne knew that any alternative sleeping arrangements would be utterly impossible.

Arne forced himself to stay out late that night, exploring Davie Street, but his jet-lagged brain forced him back to the basement suite by midnight. Disheartened at the sight of a light on in the tiny ground-level window, he unlocked the door and stepped inside.

Julian was painting a skateboard in the living room, a half-smoked blunt in one hand. Not even the acrid smell of the paints and lacquer could overpower the stench of weed and musk in the tiny space. “Evenin’, bro,” Julian slurred as Arne blinked his eyes and tried to adjust to the thick, musky atmosphere. “Hey, come sit with me.”

“I have to go to sleep,” Arne protested, even as he walked to the spare seat on the couch and lowered himself into it. He remembered that he had resolved earlier not to touch the couch, since it was covered in who knew what kind of stains, but it was already done.

“No worries, this’ll help you sleep, bro,” Julian said, waving away Arne’s excuse with his blunt and then taking a deep pull off of it. He blew a stream of smoke into Arne’s face.

Arne spluttered. “Wh-what the hell!” He’d smoked a few times, but he was hardly a stoner. He could already feel a contact high working its way through his system, loosening his muscles and overwhelming him with sleepiness. For some reason, it also left his body feeling strangely tight.

“What design should I put on this board?” As he spoke, Julian leaned back on the couch and laid his arm across the back. Through the haze in his mind, Arne realised Julian was shirtless again, with musky sweat dripping down his sides from the bushes in his armpits.

Julian was still talking, something about dragons and complementary colours, and Arne just nodded along, too fixated on Julian’s body to care. He had never liked smelly guys, but something about Julian had Arne’s cock flooding his boxers with precum.

As Julian took another hit off his blunt, Arne realised that he could smell the salty tang of his precum in the air. Looking down, he could see a slick, spreading stain on his jeans. How long had he been sitting here? He thought that he should be embarrassed, but working up shame seemed like so much effort. He was so relaxed, sitting here on the couch, breathing in Julian’s sexy musk and clouds of pot smoke.

The rest of the night was a blur. Arne was so tired. He vaguely remembered Julian’s face looming over his, dripping sweat into Arne’s mouth. At some point, Arne thought he must have taken his shirt off because he got so warm and sweaty sitting on the couch. Finally, they had moved to the bedroom, where Julian had kept talking while Arne tried to calm his dripping cock enough to fall asleep.

Arne woke up slowly the next morning, cocooned in the scent of musk and weed. He started to roll over, but realised suddenly that there was a pair of sweaty arms around his chest. One of Julian’s fingers brushed across Arne’s bare nipple, and he moaned uncontrollably as a spark of pleasure shot to his slick, precum-smelling crotch.

His face burning with embarrassment, Arne carefully extricated himself from Julian’s bed and stumbled to the bathroom. He wondered why his body felt strange and top-heavy until he switched on the light. In the mirror, he saw a pair of massive pecs on top of his slender torso, the big nipples erect and pink.

Despite his horror, Arne still found himself feeling oddly horny. Looking further down, he saw an unfamiliar, half-hard cock between his bare legs—he had slept naked!—still leaking thick, clear precum that gathered in big drops before falling to the floor.

There was something seriously wrong with this apartment, and with Julian. Arne struggled to think, but the scent of his precum was quickly filling the little bathroom, making his head foggy. He had to…He had to…He had to touch his fat man tits.

Arne watched in the mirror as he popped his sweaty pecs, and then grabbed them with one hand. Not only were they real, they bounced hypnotically as he kneaded at the muscle. A finger brushed over his pert nipple, and Arne moaned again. His voice sounded strange. A little bit too deep, and slower than he was used to.

Would he feel even better if he pinched his nipple? As Arne went to grab his opposite nip, he struggled to remember what he had been thinking about. It had been something way more important than his bouncing pecs…

The thoughts dissolved as Arne started to tug on his sensitive nipple. He moaned loudly, his legs buckling as jolts of pleasure engulfed his body. The trickle of precum from his cock grew into a continuous stream as he knelt on the bathroom floor, mindlessly tugging on his pecs.

Arne barely noticed the bathroom door open until a pair of strong arms grabbed him under his shoulders and started to haul him to his feet. “No cumming yet, bro,” said Julian’s relaxed drawl next to his ear. “You’re not nearly done yet.”

By the time Julian handed Arne a plate of poptarts, Arne’s horniness had mostly faded back to a low hum, which spiked at the scent of Julian’s unwashed armpits. Arne wondered if he should feel embarrassed to be sat, naked, on Julian’s couch, his insistent cock still slowly leaking tangy precum onto the seat.

“Yesterday was a lot for you, huh bro?” Julian said through a mouthful of poptart. “I bet you just wanna stay here and hang out with me all day.”

Arne frowned. He was supposed to go to the suspension bridge today…No, that sounded like a lot of work. He’d much rather hang out with Julian. He had no idea why he’d thought Julian was gross or uncool. His smell was utterly intoxicating.

“What were you planning to do today?” Arne asked, after he’d eaten a few bites.

Julian shrugged, shedding runnels of sweat from his pits. “I was gonna go to the skate park and hang with some bros, but you need me more, bro.”

“What do you mean?” Arne was independent! He didn’t need Julian around! But it did feel nice to have someone hot and manly like Julian looking out for him, he realised.

“You can’t be left alone right now, bro.” Julian had finished his breakfast, and started to set up the bong on the coffee table. “So we’re gonna hang out, I’m gonna smoke, and then you’re gonna help me with some boards.”

Before long, Arne was floating comfortably, a little stoned from how much smoke billowed out of Julian’s sexy mouth. Julian got to work painting a skateboard, but after a few minutes he turned to look at Arne, a strange smile on his face.

“Come over and help me, bro.”

When Arne slid down to the floor next to Julian, his host raised one tanned, muscular arm. “I’m so sweaty, bro,” Julian said. Arne agreed, watching a rivulet of sweat emerge from the dark hair in Julian’s armpit, adding to the heady musk in the room. “If you could just, like, lick it up for me, I’ll be able to focus so much better.”

Arne frowned. That didn’t seem like it would help at all. But before he could protest, he felt a strong hand on the back of his head, and Julian was pushing him into his musky armpit.

The smell overpowered any of his protests. Julian’s musk was baked into his skin, and taking it straight from the source was far more intense than smelling him at range. The smell of sweat filled Arne’s mind, and he started to lick and suck at Julian’s armpit hair without realising it. The rank taste filled his mouth and trickled down his throat, and Arne felt his leaky cock start to flow again. He couldn’t imagine anything hotter than this. As Julian kept painting, he moaned whenever Arne’s tongue pushed against an especially sensitive spot.

As he laved his tongue over Julian’s tight belly button a while later—time didn’t really matter—Arne started to feel itchy all over his body. As he ran a hand over his arms, he felt the resistance of thick hair. All over his body, Arne felt long hair growing. Before long, his precum didn’t even fall onto the skin of his hairy thighs, it just got lost in the hair.

With his new fur, Arne found himself sweating at least as much as Julian in the heat of the little room. When Julian took a break from painting to grab some lunch, Arne noticed a new smell filling the air. He was emitting his own flavour of musk now, like Julian’s, but with a bit more of a richness to it from the precum dripping between his legs. He couldn’t help but give his armpits a sniff, licking up what he could reach of his own taste.

Julian returned and grinned at Arne. “Damn, bro, you’re almost ready.”

“What?” Arne looked up at Julian. It felt like he was seeing through a thick haze. It was so hard to think. He had to get outside and get some fresh air. But where were his clothes?

Julian held out a brownie for Arne. “Here, bro, this’ll help that brain of yours along. It’s my special blend.” He winked a dark eye, and Arne obediently took a bite of the brownie from Julian’s hand.

While Julian got back to his painting, Arne felt himself feeling slowly, but insistently, hornier. From licking up the sweat at the top of Julian’s back, he moved lower and lower, until he was licking at the very top of Julian’s musky asscrack. His cock felt iron-hard and huge against his thigh, a continuous stream of precum trickling into his sweaty leg hair.

Julian groaned. “Oh, bro, if you’re gonna get in there, let’s do it for real.” Putting the freshly finished board aside, Julian rose to his feet and pulled Arne up as well.

Arne felt so tall. The floor was so far away. All he could see was his hairy belly and thick, drippy cock as he followed Julian through the door to the bedroom. Then, all he could see was Julian, lying on his back with his legs hooked over Arne’s hairy shoulders. At last, Arne was back in a place that made sense, looking into Julian’s asscrack, licking up the musky sweat on his firm cheeks.

As his tongue dove into Julian’s hole, Arne remembered the first time they had skateboarded together. With his natural musk, it was hard for Arne to make friends with other skaters, but Julian had skated right up to him and invited him back to his place.

As he lined his cock up with Julian and rubbed his copious precum over the shaft, Arne remembered growing up in Vancouver. Dealing weed had been fun before legalisation, but now his job at the dispensary was pretty easy. Arne spent most of his time perfecting his skating tricks or smoking up with Julian or their other musky skater friends.

As he thrust against Julian’s prostate and felt the smaller man begin to tighten around him and cum, Arne remembered how much he loved his buddies. He was the big guy of the group, with his big, hairy muscles and fat, leaky cock. He wasn’t much of a thinker, but he’d do anything for Julian and his bros.

With that thought, Arne felt his balls tighten against him as he unloaded a huge, creamy load in Julian’s ass. As he shuddered, collapsing on top of his bro, there was a knock at the door.

“Fuuuuuck, that’s my next guest,” Julian groaned, whining a little as Arne pulled out. In addition to selling custom skateboards, Julian made extra cash by renting part of his room to gay tourists. Arne loved Julian’s musky, pot-smelling basement, so he thought that sharing the space a bit more was a great idea.

Julian pulled a pair of relatively clean sweatpants up his legs and wiped the worst of his cum off his chest with one of the shirts on the floor. “Just grab some clothes, bro,” he said over his shoulder as he shut the door behind himself.

As he pulled on his XL sweatpants and grabbed his hoodie, Arne listened to Julian introducing himself to this new guy. “What’s up, bro? You must be Yadu. I’m Julian, your host.” The spiel sounded strangely familiar. Careful to leave the hoodie unzipped so he wouldn’t stimulate his oversensitive nipples, and careless of Julian's cum slowly drying in his chest hair, Arne crammed a beanie over his hair and stepped into the living room.

A shrimpy African guy was looking in horror at the room, a small suitcase hanging from his weedy arm. Arne waved at him, and the guy looked like he was about to gag as a wave of Arne’s thick, precummy musk washed over him.

“Sorry, bro, we lost track of time.” Julian was pulling on a shirt in the kitchen. “Arne was just leaving.”

Nodding to Julian, Arne brushed past Yadu and headed out the door, grabbing his skateboard from where it was leaning against the wall. He had to go meet up with Omar at the skate park anyway.

This story is a belated holiday gift for @rakurairagnarok! Here's to a very sexy, transformative new year, my friend ;)

#male transformation #mental change #muscle tf #male tf #reality change #dumber tf #musk tf #stoner tf #all fwkong

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dstryvampres · 3 months

Note

this idea for a one shot came to my mind, so, neil is the type of guy who would invite a reader to show her his collection of anything and wouldn't see any subtext in it "hey why are you naked???" (he finally gives in and she fucks him hard lol)

Drain You

THIS IS SUCH A FUNNY PROMPT !!!! honestly, you’re right he’s just the man to do that.

Pairing: Neil Lewis x Reader

Warnings: smut, p in v, creampie, unprotected sex, neil is stupid, very brief nipple play, Neil bites you like once

Word Count: 1.9k

For weeks you had been trying to hint to Neil Lewis that you were into him, like really into him, and each time he would miss it completely. It seemed to him your weeks of walking into Gumshoe wearing the shortest skirts you owned and bending down in front of him so he could get a glimpse of the panties you picked out that morning, or wearing shirts that show an unnecessary amount of cleavage and then pressing your breasts into Neil meant nothing to him. You thought he would finally get the hint when you went over to his house and picked out a DVD from his porno collection, but he immediately redirected you to some stupid noir film. Neil makes you want to rip your hair out, how can a man miss an opportunity that has essentially been served to him on a silver platter. The most this man has given you has been a makeout session in the back of Gumshoe that stopped before you could even start feeling him up.

So now here you are, standing in front of the mirror applying a final coat of mascara to both of your eyes before Neil shows up in a last ditch effort for him to finally understand that you just want to fuck him. Tonight you plan to make absolutely none of your gestures able to be interpreted as anything other than the burning need for you to be dicked down by the loser who owns the indie DVD rental place.

The doorbell rings.

You rush over to the door to your apartment from your room, almost tripping on the hardwood due to a mix of your speed and socks lack of grip. Patting down the pink, almost see-through, and overly short dress you decided to slip on tonight, before opening the door.

“Hello,” Neil greets, a bottle of red in his hands.

He seemed to not pick-up on the fact that you thought this was a date just by his clothes alone. A Neil classic outfit of a wife pleaser underneath a short sleeve green button-up and jeans, in stark contrast to your own outfit curated to make yourself irresistible. It was nothing offensive, but it wasn’t like he was going out of his way to look his best tonight either, coming in the clothes he likely wore to work today.

“Come in,” you say, moving over to the side and prying the door open a little more.

Neil takes your invite, slipping off his shoes before looking around. Taking in your apartment like he hasn’t been here before.

“I’m always amazed by how you keep your place so clean,” Neil jokes, following you into your living room.

“Thank you,” you purr, taking the bottle of red from him and placing it on the coffee table, extending yourself a little more than needed in order to expose the bottom of your ass to him.

You want to pounce on Neil as you catch him, out of the corner of your eye, staring at your ass as he drops himself onto your couch. Instead you settle on sitting right beside him, pressing yourself up against his side.

“Do you still have that new wave film I brought here last time?” Neil asks.

Fuck, he just can’t get a hint.

“I think so.” You do not want to watch that stupid fucking new wave film.

“Perfect!” Neil cheers, “Can you go get it? I’ll pour us some wine.”

You turn your head and frown before getting up and going through your DVD collection. Honestly at this rate you’re not even sure if Neil has a sex drive, all he ever wants to do is watch movies and talk about them. If this was any other man you would’ve already had your panties around your ankles. There it is. You insert it into the DVD player and walk back over to the couch, situating yourself a tiny bit further from Neil than before. He doesn’t seem to care, wine glass in his hand, taking a small sip before setting it down.

“This film is really amazing, it details a young criminal waiting out in Paris for fate to catch up with him,” Neil starts as the opening sequence starts up. You barely listen to the rest of his rambling, too focused on the way his lips form the words than the actual words.

Eventually Neil shuts up, just smiling at you for a couple seconds before turning his attention towards the film. You do the same, not like you care at all for anything being said. The whole things in French and you’re way too hot and bothered by the build up of wanting to be fucked for weeks on end to read the captions. The movie is boring, and you don’t understand anything, resorting to entertaining yourself by drinking and ogling Neil. You have to fuck this man tonight, or you’re sure you’ll go crazy.

“Neil,” you whine out halfway through the film, only earning a hum in response. “I want to show you something in my room, I was going to do it later but…”

“Yeah? We can do that. Like now or after the movie is done?” Neil asks, turning his attention to you.

“Now.”

You get up, grabbing Neil’s hand and leading him over to your bedroom. You let go of his hand as soon as you step into your bedroom, already feeling your wetness on your thighs.

“What did you want to show me?” Neil asks, smiling a little bit. He’s so stupid.

“Look at the bookshelf behind you,” you suggest.

He actually turns around, looking at the trinkets, books, and CDs you have accumulating on your shelves. Maybe he comments on the vast amount of objects you have gathered in your room, you don’t really care all that much as you slip your dress and bra off.

“What in particular did you want to show-” Neil turns around, cutting himself off as he finds you bare beside your lacy pink panties and socks. “Why are you naked?”

Neil’s eyes rake over your body with hesitation, taking everything in slowly. By the time his eyes reach your panties he audibly gulps. You can't help but smile, slowly walking over to him and placing his hand over your clothed cunt.

“Neil, I want you to fuck me,” you state, looking into his eyes. His pupils, already wide from both how dimly lit the room is and also from your previous actions, grow once again.

He stands there, dumbfounded, before diving in to kiss you. Lips pressing onto yours, as he pushes you back into your bed. He slips his tongue into your mouth as his hands find your breasts, massaging them gently. He moans into your mouth, hips rutting into yours. You feel his hard-on straining inside of his jeans. You rake your nails on his clothed back, causing him to hiss out slightly.

You reach down to take off Neil’s wife pleaser, having to break away from the kiss to fully get both the button-up and wife pleaser off. Reaching your hands out over his chest to finally feel his bare skin, then bringing him down into a kiss to press his bare chest into yours. The sensation making you moan out. Neil takes the small break from your lips to trail kisses down your neck towards your breasts. Leaving feather light kisses in between your breasts before, trailing over to one of your nipples. He laps his tongue over the bud before slipping it into his mouth and sucking on it. You sigh out, lacing your fingers into his hair and wrapping your legs around his waist.

“I’ve waited so long, please, just touch me,” you sigh out, bucking your hips up into Neil’s.

Neil detaches his lips from your nipple, the remaining spit heightening the chill of the air causing you to whine out. He kisses down from your breasts to just above your panties, hooking his finger into the lining and dragging it down your hips. He hums at the sight of your cunt, slick and warm, just for him. Kissing your clit before stepping away and taking off his pants and boxers. His cock springs out, slapping his stomach. It's not the biggest cock you’ve had, but it’s still above average and, if you might add, quite cute. You don’t get much time to admire his dick before he’s climbing on top of you and leading you back into another heated, sloppy kiss.

Neil gathers your wetness up on the tip of his cock, slipping his tip up and down your folds teasingly. It’s not like he knows just how long you’ve been waiting for him to finally fuck you(3 weeks and 2 days to be exact), but he could spare the teasing just for a second. You whine out, moving so the tip of his cock catches on the sopping wet opening to your cunt. Just that alone is enough for you to moan out and clench around nothing, digging your nails into his biceps.

Neil breaks away from the kiss, lining up his cock with your cunt, and watches himself push into you. You could cum just from the initial intrusion alone, having to squeeze your eyes shut and bite your lip to stop yourself from doing so.

“You take me so well baby,” Neil whispers, coming back to leave sloppy open mouthed kisses on your neck.

Neil pulls out before pushing in again. Fuck, is loser cock good. It was worth listening to all that useless, benign movie knowledge for three weeks for this. His cock stretches you out, wide. Everytime he pulls out of you so he can push back in, you can feel your insides pulse with desire. When he pushes into you, his cock rubs along the sweet spot in your cunt, making you whine out with each thrust.

Neil’s hands come back to your nipples, taking turns tweaking and pinching them as he fucks into you. Your eyes roll back into your skull as he starts to speed up.

“I can’t believe I waited this long to fuck you,” Neil whines out, his breath tickling the juncture of your neck.

You’re telling me.

Neil’s hands trace down from your breasts to your hips, stabling himself out with his grip there before increasing the speed of his thrusts. He’s going to cum soon if the erratic pace of his thrusts is anything to go off of. He leads one of his hands down to your clit, tracing circles into the nerve with his thumb.

“Where can I cum?” Neil asks, breath hitching briefly.

“Inside,” you moan out, wrapping your arms around him to claw at his back.

Neil mumbles a quick fuck under his breath, before biting down on your neck.

In mere seconds you're cumming around his cock. Letting out a loud moan, clawing into Neil’s back so hard you’re surprised he doesn’t start bleeding. He follows shortly after, burying himself balls deep into you before spurting his hot cum inside of you. You squeeze his cock with your velvety walls, milking his cock, before you’re both finally coming down from your highs.

Neil pulls out of your cunt, and drops down on the bed beside you. His cum dribbles out of your cunt, but it seems you are both too spent to care. Neil lightly brushes some hair out of your face before pulling you into him.

“I’ve been trying to get you to fuck me for over a month,” you say, closing your eyes and burying yourself into Neil’s chest.

“Really!? I thought you were just being friendly with me, and cared about the movies I showed you,” Neil says, genuine shock in his voice.

You start to laugh, because you never thought a man could be so oblivious. Neil eventually starts laughing too. Both of you are now laughing at just how clueless Neil is.

taglist: @paradiseprincesss @luluartpop

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #neil lewis #cillian fic #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy smut #watching the detectives #fanfic #neil lewis x y/n #neil lewis x you #neil lewis smut #neil lewis x reader #cillian fanfic #cillian x reader #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian x y/n #neil lewis fanfic #neil lewis fanfiction

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pasukiyo · 5 months

Text

TAKE YOU LIKE A DRUG

bodyguard!leon x f!popstar!reader word count; 1,576 warnings; smut, oral (f receiving) summary; he's tried time and time again to push you away, to make you understand that you don't know what it means to want him. but how can he resist the temptation when you come barreling into his hotel room in the late hours of the night?

Three knocks against Leon’s hotel room door woke him.

With a grumble, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, his knuckles digging the sleep away from his eyes. He blinked through the blurriness of his vision down at the phone resting on the nightstand, ‘2:30’ in big, bold white letters across the top of the screen.

Three more knocks on the door made him rise from the bed and pull a loose t-shirt over his head, muscles aching with each step he took.

Frustration laced his weary bones— for fuck’s sake, it was his night off. For just once, he’d like to get some real sleep.

The knocking began again and Leon swung open the door before the count could reach three. He blinked, his brow dipping as he took in the figure before him. Her name tumbled from his lips and it was as if his voice was what made her snap, surging forward into him, her lips sealing his in a kiss.

Leon nearly stumbled backwards when she threw herself on him, an arm wrapped around his neck and a hand cupping his cheek. He steadied himself with either of his hands on her hips, attempting to pull himself away but the desperation in her kiss dragged him right back in, as if the ocean’s waves had crashed over his head.

Leon had kissed her many times before, too many times to count. They’d kissed in secret, in many storage closets, in dressing rooms, behind many backs. They’d kissed in hotel rooms, rental homes, even in each other’s own bedrooms. They’d kissed slowly, they’d kissed hard, they’d taken their time, and they'd kissed until they had to force themselves away to make schedules on time.

She kissed him now with a desperation he’d never tasted, never felt from her before. Her kiss was mind-numbing, nearly enough to turn his brain to mush and make his knees feel weak. But the slick, oily voice somewhere in the back of his head reminded him that he couldn’t do this, that he knew this was wrong. The voice’s whispers infected his brain like a parasite and twisted like vines around his ears, its breath hot as it curled around his cheeks.

Leon peeled open his eyelids and pushed her away by the grip he had on her hips, either of their chests heaving. She blinked up at him, a furrow in her brow and a look so devastating in her eyes that he had to turn away, wiping her spit from his lips.

“I told you we can’t do this anymore,” Leon managed to say over his panting.

She shook her head, “I don’t care.”

Leon, still with his back turned, closed his eyes, willing his heart to ease in his chest. This was the last thing he needed— temptation. Because that was all he saw whenever he looked at her. Temptation. A lust from deep within the pit of his belly for risk, a dark, twisted desire to corrupt her, to ruin her like he already was. There were many secrets he’d kept— from her, from others. Secrets he’d buried long ago and vowed he’d never let resurface— secrets he was too tempted to dig up from the grave he’d abandoned long ago the closer he let himself be drawn to her.

There was a whole life’s worth of baggage he knew he shouldn’t burden her with, knew she didn’t deserve to have to deal with. Leon Kennedy was wrong for her in every single sense— why couldn’t it just be simple to get her to understand that?

Leon sighed her name again, “you should,” he shook his head. “You should also be asleep right now. You just played a two hour show and you have a photoshoot in seven—“

“I don’t care, Leon.”

His muscles tensed when her hand slithered around his elbow, casting a glare to the ground beneath their feet as she coiled like a snake around his body until she stood before him. She dipped her chin, leaning down until their eyes could meet.

“Why are you always depriving yourself?” She asked, her temper short and rising to the gleam in her eyes. “You always push me away but I know you better than you think, Leon.”

Leon’s jaw clenched and his gaze sharpened, shaking his head. Her bottom lip quivered at the intensity of his stare but still, she wouldn’t relent, wouldn’t let go.

“You don’t know the first thing about me,” he muttered. “And trust me, if you did, you wouldn’t want me.”

She huffed, pressing her lips together to tame her temper. “You don’t know that,” she shook her head and he scoffed, slipping his arm away from her grip. She followed when he turned to move away, like a leech in his skin he couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard he tried. “Will you stop walking away from me for one goddamn second and just listen to me?”

Leon turned, towering over her very suddenly, eclipsing whatever little light still remained in the room. She nearly stumbled back when he hovered over her, her lips parting in a gasp when her back hit the wall. Even still, Leon leaned closer, sleep a distant memory on his bones.

“When will it get through your thick fucking skull that I’m not good for you?” He practically hissed with a venom she felt straight in the chest. She blinked, and he continued, “you don’t know what it means to want me. You don’t know what kind of baggage you’re asking for.”

There was a lump at the base of her throat that visibly bobbed when she swallowed and what might have been mistaken for fear began to show for what it really was— curiosity, desire, lust.

“I think I can discern what’s good or bad for me on my own,” she murmured, “I don’t need you to make decisions for me.”

Leon blinked— was it even possible to get this girl to realize she was making a mistake?

She balled the front of his t-shirt in a fist and tugged him into her, their breaths two ghosts in a waltz, the tips of their noses nearly touching.

“When will that get through your thick fucking skull?” She asked in a whisper, gaze flickering down to his lips and back. Leon’s heart thundered in his chest, the oily voice growing louder, barking its warnings. But the longer they stared at one another, the fainter the voice seemed to be until it drowned altogether.

Leon’s breath shuddered when he sucked it in, “you’re making a mistake.”

She leaned further in until their lips were a mere wisp away from each other, “I’ll think I’ll live.”

Their lips became one again and this time, Leon had no intention of pulling away. His hands were on her hips, woven in her hair, hers on his face, on his shoulder. They kissed with a fervor neither had ever felt before, their kiss was electric, and with a simple spark, they were both set aflame.

Leon’s hands carried her to bed and caressed the soft stomach beneath her t-shirt, his fingers curling around the hem of her shorts and tugging until they, along with her underwear, were discarded in a pile on the floor.

There they were again, making the same mistake they made time and time again. Her hands were in the dark blonde hair atop his head, still messy with sleep and his arms were hooked around her thighs, face burrowed into the sopping cunt between her legs, breathing her in like a vapor. His tongue swirled around her clit at an agonizing pace, one that had her throwing her head back into the pillows, her back arching up off the mattress.

“Mmm…” she mewled, squirming where she laid. “Fffuck Leon.”

Leon hummed against her aching bud, taking her in as if she were a drug, for that’s exactly what she was.

A drug— one he couldn’t get enough of. One he always pushed away from but still clawed his way back to over and over again. She was a beautiful vice tied with a ribbon of glamor and fame, the physical embodiment of everything Leon didn’t and would never deserve. She was something too grand, too perfect, too good for him.

Leon greedily lapped up everything she had to offer with his tongue to her center, staring up at her through heavy, hooded lids as she writhed and mewled his name. She sang for him like the pretty little songbird she was, his tongue’s ministrations her muse, the ink to the pen she used to write her lyrics. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if this moment would be turned into a song, music thousands of her fans would scream the lyrics to and he’d be the only one to understand it for what it truly meant.

“Fuck! More… Leon, please! Feels so… shit! Feels so fucking good!”

Like the selfish bastard he knew he was deep down, Leon buried his tongue further into the heat of her cunt, stealing her siren’s song straight from her lips. She was like a siren, enchanting him with her song, with each pretty little note he dug from her with every stroke of his tongue. And just like the selfish, undeserving bastard he was, Leon drank everything she had to offer up like an expensive brand of wine.

a/n; another one in the books for these two! thank you all so much for all the love you gave i can see you, it makes me so happy to see so many of you enjoying this little au! (also to see fellow resident evil fans/swifties 🤭

🎀 if you enjoyed this one, please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply to let me know! it means the world to me 🫶

TAGLIST

@corruptcoder

@chaoticevilbakugo

@bxbyyyjocelyn

@luckypurins

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x y/n #leon x reader #resident evil #bodyguard!leon and popstar!reader

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jolapeno · 5 months

Text

up sky, low high

frankie morales x f!reader | frankie morales masterlist

summary: frankie takes you on a heli-ride. you decide to test his competency and take him for a ride.

word count: 1.9k warnings: smut. 18+. there's mouth to cock action in the sky - new kink for jo? maybe. jo's interpretation of how to fly a heli is deffo a warning in itself. everyone is safe. remember he's a professional, but don't try this in the air bbys. jo’s spelling—written on phone, forgive me. moodboard not reflective of reader. an: this wouldn't be possible without @morallyinept who not only thotted with me, told me to write this, filled me with confidence at the halfway point when i sent it to her but also made the prettiest banner and moodboard for this (see at the bottom). babe ily, thank you so much for this.

It’s not ideal—not even close to safe.

Finger pushing in on the button that releases the elements of your seatbelt as you swallow, staring at him. Gawking, in fact.

Frankie always looks good, a fact not fiction.

Whether it’s first thing in the morning, sleep in his eyes—fingers scratching over his soft stomach as he yawns. Or when his eyes are hidden under the bill of his hat, dark, all mahogany brown pupils blown with lust as the thing on the television becomes forgotten.

And while he does always look incredible, there’s something criminal about the way he looks right now. Piloting, all in his element, wearing fucking competency like he was the one who first birthed it as he keeps the helicopter in the air.

Short flight, he’d said when he’d helped you into the rental.

Now, you could bet on it.

Because you're not even sure how long you’ve been in the air, too busy gazing, hungrily undressing him as he flicks switches and checks gauges. Your understanding of what he was doing lost, barely reaching a basic level.

What you do know is that if he reaches over, slides his hand up your dress and touches the fabric covering your pussy, he’d find them soaked.

But then, he’d also likely notice the way you’re taking shallow breaths, that you’ve been squirming for friction for the past so many instructions—

Because of his voice.

It all low, husky—dragged through gravel when it comes through the headset. Pointing out sights, places, but he’s the only thing you want to gaze at from this height. From any height.

That’s why the thought had arrived, to begin with, the lucrative one. The one so far gone that you try not to consider logistics and just trust in the fact he’d stop you if it was too unsafe. Your voice barely steady through the microphone, asking—layered and wrapped with demand, as your pulse quickens and your palms become slick with sweat.

You know the idea is ridiculous. Yet, somehow, you find yourself moving up onto your knees, digging them into the chair you’d just been seated on.

That’s when you see it. The glimmer, the spark, before he whines out that he’ll maintain altitude as you palm him over his cargo pants. Feeling him harden, pressing against the zipper, all thick, long and delicious as your mouth waters.

Because you need him in your mouth.

A thing you must murmur because suddenly he’s helping—lifting his hips as he whispers an oh fuck, when you drag his layers down and your hand wraps around his cock. More so when you move your wrist, dipping your head to slide your tongue to lick up the bead of want already there at the tip.

Flicking your gaze up, you find hungry eyes staring back—ones lit by the sun, shades a plenty making up the lust-filled gaze that makes your mouth open wider as you take as much of him as you can.

Fuck it’s glorious.

Both the thrum of vibrations through the cushion seat under your knees as he keeps the thing in the air and the feel of his hot length sliding against your tongue. As you take him. As you make him hiss through gritted teeth when you try to take a little more of him than you usually manage—tears springing in your eyes and your throat constricting around him—

“Careful, querida,” he soothes.

Large hand cupping the back of your head, easing, aiding, as his cock rests at the entrance of your mouth, placed perfectly on your lower lip. Breath coming back to you; eyes blinking as he darts his eyes from the world below him to you.

“You okay?”

Until now, you weren’t sure if it was possible to be more in love with him. Then he proved that even up in the air he thought of nothing but what was best for you.

Nodding, spit trailing down your chin, droplets falling to your chest where it pools as fabric meets skin, you smile. Gleam. Grin. Before making him swallow a moan as you take him again, his head falling back.

It’s then, when you hollow your cheeks do you feel him shift, allowing him, as he gently thrusts to slide his length as far down your throat as it allows. Good girl, so good, my good girl—

Humming around him at his praise, a blend of languages as he calls you pretty and perfect. And you can tell he’s close, taste it on your tongue as he begins to rock his hips, as he begins to hiss—teeth biting down on his lip, imagining his knuckles whitening around the cyclic stick.

It’s enough to make you come from the thought—close to ruining your own panties further as you press your thighs together.

Closing your lips around him, sucking and adorning, showing him, etching your love for him with the way your tongue swirls over the tip, hand gripping his thigh as he groans your name. It followed by s’close, m’close baby—

Then he pulls you off him, all with care. Spit connecting your lips to his tip as you stare at him in confusion. The line dropping, snapping—it clinging to the curls at the base of him, soaking his hair like dew on a spring morning.

“Frankie…”

It’s all you manage to croak out. Eyes wide, thoughts barely present, all cock-drunk and adrenaline-fuelled—the scent of him still there, around your nose, musk and engine oil.

“Need to land,” he replies, short, jaw tight—cock angry and throbbing between his thighs as he flicks a switch. “Can’t… can’t fuck you, unless I land.”

You’re not sure he’s ever landed so quickly, never mind so clunky. Remembering stories, how he gloats at his prowess at most of his land landings. But you have no time to question, think, or ask, before he pulls off his belt, headset and hat before reaching to yank you into his lap.

It’s clumsy—a mess of limbs, a tight squeeze as your hands skate around his neck. But you forget about it all when his mouth crashes to yours. Kissing you so hard and hungrily your teeth clash. His breath is hot in your mouth as he pants at the feel, likely tasting himself as he slips his tongue into yours.

And it’s warm, his tongue. Licking into your mouth, large hands around your waist brushing your clothed core against his cock—the hiss reverbing down your throat as you swear you feel him shake. Tremble. So desperate for you that it makes him quiver.

You love kissing him.

Could spend hours doing it. Not caring about jaw aches when you’re tangled up with him. Like right now. In some field, in some place—

“Need t’fuck you, baby. Can I fuck you please?” he asks, voice low, but tinged with a plea.

His hand balls up your dress, the other hand hooking a finger in to pull your soaked underwear from your pussy before groaning at the sight. “Hold them for me, baby.”

Swallowing, smiling—you do. Lifting, nudging yourself closer as your knees screech on the leather as you become full of molten hunger. Hovering over him as he eases the head of his cock to your slick entrance, sliding it through your folds, eyes focused on you.

“Can’t wait.”

“Then, don’t,” you whisper.

Then he hisses as he pushes in, right between his teeth. One that’s born at the back of his throat and makes an entrance into the air. Cuts. Slices. The sound so fucking hot that you clench around him when he bottoms out—mouth open in an O at how full, stretched and stuffed you feel.

“No te muevas—lemme feel you, baby. Fuck—”

Your smile widens—practically smirking. Shifting on him as the hand on your waist tightens its hold. But, you’re not listening. Even less so when you press an open-mouth kiss to his skin as you begin to move, to slowly slide your pussy up and down his shaft.

“Fuck, querida—feel so—good—incredible. Tu perfecto. Made for me, you know that…”

It’s layered—all in a breath; you answer similarly when you say that you do. Practically pressing it into the air as you pant, resting your forehead on his shoulder, as the two of you are quick to find a pace.

It’s almost drowned by how wet you are, how loud it is when he begins to thrust up into you. All aching for one another, practically feral as you feel your slick clings to your inner thighs—likely smudging against his skin as your fist clenches at his shirt. Clit brushing against the tangle of coarse hair, you’re soaking, that makes you dizzy as he begins to fuck up into you.

All deep thrusts. Making you moan—feeling nothing but good. Perfect. Amazing.

Just how he always makes you feel this way. Every, single, time—

“Need you to come, baby,” he strains, rasps, groans as you feel his hand—all expert, calloused in the right places—snake between the two of you.

It’s there, trying to disguise between letters: desperation. Despair. His touch confirms it, finding your bundle of nerves as he makes you gasp, arch, tighten around him as your hand finds refuge on the back of his neck. Your fingers slide into his sweat-soaked curls, smearing against your fingers as you clutch, grip and grasp.

And you’re aware of it now. How the cabin is warmer—windows likely smothered in perspiration—but it’s nothing compared to the heat of your body. It licks at your neck, at the base of your spine, the backs of your thighs that meet your calves.

But you’re lost in it, in him. Wanting nothing more than to come; unable to speak from how much you want to. More so as his hips cant up into you, as you begin to see white in the corner of your vision—as your body becomes more fire than bone.

Tightening around him as he shifts, an angle that makes you see fucking stars as you whine his name like it’s made of one syllable.

“—that’s it, querida. Fuck, s’good for me, I love—“

It building, so near to snapping as you hear him babbling, rambling. Your mouth is just open against his neck, moaning—the noise slipping out of you as it slams into you. His voice fading, the world going quiet as you come undone, all pulsing, all clenching down on him as it crests.

But his hips push you through it. Chasing, seeking. His pace is all sloppy, difficult, lost as you blink your eyes open to see the way his face is scrunched, lips over his teeth. And if you hadn’t just, you swear you’d come against from the sight.

That look of sheer determination, skin bathed in sweat before his eyes find yours—crystallising, glazed over and fucked out—

“Come for me, baby,” you whisper.

And his expression pauses. Relaxes.

Smooths.

His hand tightens on your hip, grunting out your name—burying it into the air as his hips stutter. Then, he whines. Spilling inside of you as he collapses back into the chair, you pressed against him, jaw all slack and his eyes clenched shut.

And you swear you can feel his heartbeat. It is all out of step with your own.

Not that you care.

Smiles painted on your faces as your eyes met his, breaths ragged, your finger wiping a bead of sweat from his brow.

Before his lips slide back over yours, kissing you, writing gratitude against your mouth as the muscles in his neck flex under your palm.

an: look how pretty this issssssss. thank you so much, jett.

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x y/n #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales smut #francisco morales x you #frankie morales x reader smut #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fanfic #frankie morales smut #frankie morales #pedro pascal character fanfiction #triple frontier fic #francisco catfish morales

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roosterforme · 5 months

Text

The Younger Kind Part 59 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: With your wedding on the horizon, it wasn't the best time for you to question your place with Bradley. But he's always patient, and Noah is perfect, and it doesn't take you long to realize that your husband-to-be is always going to see you in a different way than you see yourself.

Warnings: pregnancy topics, swearing, blowjob smut, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4700 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Now that you were looking at your wedding dress all spread out on the bed, you were afraid to try it on. It looked too perfect. Pristine and white. It was exactly how you imagined it would be when Natasha convinced you to order it, and it looked like it would fit like a glove over your belly which was starting to grow. But right now, you were feeling so overwhelmed.

With your reduced work hours, you were home alone until Bradley and Noah got back in another hour or so. You had the whole place to yourself to do as you pleased. Plenty of time to try this thing on and send some photos to Natasha for her opinion. Then you could unwind with a glass of juice and a nice shower. But today was starting to feel like one of those days where Bradley's perfect bungalow on the perfect street in Coronado wasn't really where you belonged.

When you felt like you were in control of things, this was your castle. You were Bradley's Princess. You were Noah's Mommy. But today you felt like a fraud. Part of you was missing your little rental house where you could feel small and insignificant. Where you only had to take care of yourself. Were you really going to marry a man over a decade older than you? Were you really capable of raising not just Noah but a baby as well?

Mortification and embarrassment flooded your body as the dress mocked you from its place on the bed. You would never be deserving of anything as perfect as this soft fabric. Or this perfect life. Why did Bradley even want you?

"Princess?"

You didn't hear him come in, but now you heard his heavy footfalls as his boots met the hallway floor. He was headed for the bedroom, and you were in tears, staring at the dress. You managed to throw the bedding and pillows on top of it as Bradley entered the room.

"There you are. I was calling your name," he murmured, wrapping his arms around you from behind and letting his hands rest on your belly.

His touch was everything you always wanted, and he hadn't seen your tears yet. You tried to pull it together as you whispered, "Actually, you were calling my nickname."

"Same thing," he whispered, his nose pressed to your neck.

"You're home early," you said, wiping your eyes. "Did you pick Noah up?"

"Not yet," he said, trying to spin you around to face him. "I thought I'd pick you up first and see if you wanted to go out to dinner after we get him. And maybe we can hit the mall so you can help me choose something to wear for that minor, little occasion that's just around the corner also known as our wedding."

You tried to fight against his grasp on your shoulders, but he spun you easily in place. You'd been too slow to remove all traces of your tears and worry, and his face fell when he looked at you. "Sorry," you whispered. "I'm just having a weird day."

"What's wrong?" he demanded softly, his grip on your hips tightening as his eyes dipped down to your belly.

"We're fine," you whispered, wishing you could convince him that was true.

"Something's bothering you," he said, his brown eyes meeting yours. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No." Then you started crying as he collected you against his rough flight suit. "You didn't do anything wrong. I don't even know what's wrong! I just don't belong here."

You felt his body go rigid as he held you impossibly tighter. This time he did use your actual first name, and you had to force yourself to meet his eyes. He looked concerned as he asked, "You don't think you belong here? With me? I love you."

But you just shook as tears streamed down your face. You didn't know how to say what you were feeling, so you just started talking through your sobs. "It's perfect though. You know that, right?" you asked, gasping for air as he looked at you in silence. "Your house and your son, and all of it. Everything here is perfect, Bradley. And the wedding dress arrived," you sobbed, gesturing to where there was some white fabric peeking out from the bedding. "And even it's perfect, and I just feel like a fraud. Like I'm inserting myself where I don't even belong. And I don't know how to be a mom."

You had your face buried against his chest, and he let you cry. He didn't say a word, and you weren't sure if that was better or worse right now. He just rubbed his hands in slow circles along your back until you were able to swallow and take some deep breaths. Then he guided you back so you were sitting on the edge of the bed next to the messy bedding, and he knelt down in front of you. His big hand came up to your cheek, and he swiped away some of your tears as he spoke.

"If anything here seems perfect, I can assure you it's because you're here now. It feels perfect to me, too, but it didn't always."

You swallowed hard, letting him trace your bottom lip with his thumb as you whispered, "It didn't?"

Bradley shook his head, his brown eyes wide and sincere. "No. It never felt like this before I met you. You showed up and made everything better until it was perfect. It happened slowly, but I could feel something shift right from the start. Each day got better after Noah fell in love with having you here. And after I'd known you for just a few weeks, I never wanted you to leave."

"After just a few weeks?" you asked as his hands and voice soothed you.

"Yeah," he replied softly. "I knew it. I'm sorry you had to put up with so much shit before we got to the point where it felt perfect, but I knew I wanted you with us. And then I needed you with us. And now I need you to understand that you belong here as much as Noah and I do."

"And Skittles."

The pup popped out of her bed and ran over as soon as you said her name, but Bradley kept his eyes on your face. "Always Skittles. And I hate to break it to you, Princess, but you already are a mom. So stop lying and saying you don't know how to be one. You are Noah's mom, and he's happier than I've ever seen him."

You closed your eyes and let all of his words fade into you. "But the baby will be different," you whispered even as you understood that you did know what to do. You handled kids and babies all day long at work, and you did it with care even though they weren't your own. And you did love Noah like he was yours. "But I think I can do it."

When you slipped off the bed and into Bradley's arms, he cupped your face in those hands and examined you closely. "You're not gonna be doing anything alone, Princess. I'm right here."

You nodded and breathed him in, and you already felt better knowing that this house and Bradley and Noah weren't as perfect unless you were here with them. "Can we go pick Noah up and just come back here for the night? I think I feel better, but I just want to relax."

"Anything you want," Bradley promised, and you let your arms go around his neck so he could help you to your feet. "We can come right back here, where everything feels perfect thanks to you."

------------------------

Bradley wasn't sure exactly what upset you so much earlier, but after you took a shower and ate dinner, he sent you and Noah to the couch to watch Mickey Mouse cartoons. When you paused in the doorway, you reached for him, and he went right to you with a soft kiss. You were wearing his sweatpants and an old tee shirt, and you belonged here. He didn't know how else to make you see that. But you seemed to understand it deep down where it mattered.

"I feel better," you whispered as he kissed your cheek. "My hormones are all over the place, and I'm always tired, but I do feel better. Thank you for being patient."

He was about to tell you that you didn't have to thank him for that when Noah called out. "Mommy? Are you coming?"

A beautiful smile found your lips as Bradley said, "You belong here."

You nodded and turned toward the living room, leaving him in the kitchen to clean up. But he didn't want to have it any other way. He promised you he'd take care of everything around here, and that included wedding planning and decorating for Christmas. One problem was the fact that he barely had any decorations, because he barely had time to do anything before you. The other problem was that you were clearly worn out this week after Disneyland, but he needed your input for the rest of the planning.

After loading the dishwasher, Bradley paused and decided to make you some decaffeinated coffee in his Aviators Look Down on Others mug with an extra dollop of French vanilla creamer. He let it cool on the counter for a few minutes while he wiped down the table, and then he took a sip for himself before heading into the living room. Noah was curled up on your lap, and your fingers were gliding gently in his hair as the two of you watched your show together.

"This is where you belong," he whispered, and you turned to look at him.

"I know," you said with a soft smile.

Bradley snuggled in carefully next to you and handed you the mug, and soon Noah started to fall asleep. When your head came to rest on his shoulder, Bradley said, "How do you feel about me asking Amelia if she can babysit Noah on Saturday so I can take you on a date?"

"A date?" you asked softly.

"Mmmm," he hummed. "Maybe go old school and do dinner and a movie. Something other than pizza and an animated classic. Actually leave the house and stay out past eight o'clock."

You laughed softly as Bradley pushed Noah's soft curls back from his forehead. "You do like to go old school, Daddy."

He rolled his eyes but smiled. "So is that a yes?"

"That's a hell yes," you replied. "A date with my hot baby dad sounds nice. And thanks for letting me have a freak out earlier." You looked up at him with his mug in your hands and his son sprawled halfway across your lap. "I love you, too. And I'm totally ready to get married."

He let your words settle in his mind. There was so much to do. The extra bedroom still needed some work if it was to become the nursery. There were still a few things to finalize for the wedding. But he wanted to do all of it, and that included enjoying every moment with you.

"Well that's good, because I'm totally ready to get married to you, Baby." He kissed your forehead and said, "I'll carry Noah to bed, and then I'll text Amelia and Penny."

When he stood with Noah curled up against his chest, you got to your feet as well, and Bradley's heart leapt as you told him, "I think I feel like trying on my wedding dress now."

"Yeah? You need any help with that?"

You shook your head and stretched, and the soft swell of all your curves was accentuated by your bump. You kissed him softly like he wasn't completely entranced by you. Like he wasn't aching to tuck Noah in and follow you to the bedroom.

"I think I'll keep it a surprise. You can see it on me in a few weeks," you said with a little smirk as he started following you toward the bedrooms.

Every mention of the wedding left him throbbing for you. When you started to close the bedroom door behind you, Bradley said, "As soon as you're undressed again and in bed, you let me know, and I'll be right in."

"Yes, Daddy."

----------------------------------

As Bradley pulled the Bronco out of the driveway, you waved to Noah and Amelia on the porch. Bradley let you pick the spot for dinner, but he said he was in charge of the movie. Then he mentioned something special that he wanted to get on the way there.

"What's the special surprise?" you asked several times as he drove. "You're just teasing me at this point."

He gave you side eye and reached for your hand. "Thought you liked that sort of thing."

You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing and encouraging him. "I like it when you do it in bed a lot more."

He hummed like he was mulling over your words. "Then consider this some quality foreplay: you'll learn what the special surprise is when we get there, and not a moment before."

You moaned like you were in pleasure, and you felt the Bronco jerk a little to the right as Bradley's hand tightened around your fingers. You burst out laughing and looked over at him. "I love it when you talk Daddy to me. Oops, I mean talk dirty."

"You keep moaning like that, and I'll drive off the damn road," he muttered, checking the mirrors and changing lanes.

When he turned right and drove a block, you saw Sweet Dreams Bakery. "Oh, wait," you said, pointing out the window. "That's where you got the princess crown donuts!"

Bradley pulled past and found a spot where he could parallel park. "Yeah, and we can stop later after we buy the special items."

"Oh, we're shopping now?" you asked, happy you brought your credit card along to keep teasing him.

"We are," he confirmed, and when he helped you down from the Bronco, you realized he parked right outside a jewelry store. He led you inside and said, "Shopping for our wedding bands."

You wrapped your arms around his waist, and bounced up and down a bit. You had been making yourself giddy over the idea of Bradley wearing a ring. He was literally letting you stake your claim with something visible, and if your moan in the Bronco was intended to wind him up, the one that just escaped you was one hundred percent authentic.

"Daddy."

His dark eyes were locked onto your lips as he whispered, "Behave."

A sales clerk with a bright smile was headed your way, and Bradley squeezed your hip in warning when she said, "Hi, Mr. Bradshaw."

You looked at Bradley with raised brows. How many times had he been here that they remembered him. "Are you here to pickup your special order?"

"Special order?" you asked as Bradley's cheeks grew pink.

"Uh, we're here to pick out weddings bands," he said, avoiding your eyes.

"Perfect," said the sales clerk, and she was immediately leading the way over to a display case. You were ready to dig your feet in and demand more information about Bradley's special order and why they knew him by name here, but he took you by the hand and tugged you gently along.

You pressed your lips together to keep quiet as you remembered that Casey lived in this neighborhood; you were really starting to dislike the idea of Bradley hanging around here when your eyes settled on a tray of men's wedding rings. "Oh," you said softly.

Bradley kissed your temple and whispered, "Tell me which ones you want me to try on for you, Princess."

You pointed to the plain band right in the middle, and you knew before he even put it on that it was going to be perfect. He picked it up with his right hand and slid it onto his left ring finger. It was a little thicker than a traditional band, and once he had it on, he held his hand up for your inspection.

"It's perfect," you told him, your voice a little breathless.

"You want me to try on any others?" he asked, a smile playing on his lips.

You kissed the edge of his mustache, letting your body clench at the rough feel of it. "No."

"You sure?" he whispered.

"Yes."

He removed the ring and handed it to the woman who worked there. "This one," he told her while he kept his eyes on you. "It's perfect."

When it was your turn to try some on, Bradley stood behind you with his chin resting on your shoulder. You started to reach for the plain bands that would match with your enormous diamond ring, but Bradley said, "What about one like that? With the little diamonds that go all the way around?"

It was gorgeous. You should have known he'd point out something spectacular looking when you considered how pretty your engagement ring was. "Bradley, it probably costs ten times more than the plain one. Besides, the plain one kind of looks like yours."

When you glanced at him over your shoulder, you were met with those Bradshaw brown eyes that you couldn't seem to say no to. "Humor me?"

So you slid it on with a soft sigh, because it was incredible. "I do like it," you told him, trying to take it off again, but he stopped you with both of his hands.

"Then we should get it."

You tore your gaze away from him and asked the woman, "What's the price difference?"

"Please don't tell her that." You turned back to Bradley to glare at him, but of course you didn't get an answer about the price. He had the upper hand in this store. "If the price didn't matter, would you want this one?" he asked you, tapping the ring where it was still sitting on your finger.

"Maybe," you whispered. "But the plain one is just as-"

"You're not plain. You're a Princess."

The kiss you gave him was a little indecent, but you didn't really care. He slid the ring from your finger as you tasted his mouth, and you assumed he gave it to the saleswoman so he could buy it for you. You just didn't want to let go of him as his big hands moved down your sides to your belly, and then he broke the kids.

"I would get you anything you want," he whispered, his lips ghosting along yours. "Same goes for both of my kids. Now let's get dinner before we miss the movie."

You tried to pay with your credit card, but this time he shook his head and told you to put it away. The woman was discreet when she ran his card, and then she handed Bradley a bag way bigger than was necessary for two, small rings.

"Is there something for me in the bag besides the wedding band?" you asked, trying to grab it when he led you back outside.

"Maybe," he muttered. "How about you stop asking about it, and I'll buy you some donuts."

Your stomach growled pleasantly at the thought. "Great idea. We can have dessert before dinner and the movie."

Bradley smirked. "And then after the movie, we can have another round of dessert."

-------------------------------

Bradley couldn't get enough of watching you eat your dinner with your hand occasionally pressed to your belly as you chatted away. He wasn't too concerned about the way you'd been overwhelmed to the point of tears a few days ago. You were tired and pregnant and working and busy being a Mom to Noah. Your hormones were changing again after the progesterone shots ended, and he knew it was a lot. Honestly, it was a lot for him to process, too.

But tonight you looked like you always did. Young and perfect and vibrant as you told him a story about something that happened at work. You ate and ate, picking up another piece of garlic bread after you told him you were getting full.

"If you're still hungry, we can always skip the movie," he mused, and you paused as you ran the last bit of bread through the sauce on your plate.

"Oh my goodness," you said, eyes wide. "I didn't know I was basically inhaling my food."

He just shrugged as he said, "Well, you are gaining weight."

A smile found your lips, and then they were twitching before you started laughing. "Wow, Bradley. You got all the smooth lines. It's a wonder none of your app dates were successful."

He hooked your feet with his under the table as you tried to stop laughing. "That was entirely your fault. It had nothing to do with my lines, because I wasn't trying very hard. And you're supposed to be gaining weight."

You were still grinning as you said, "Once again, coming in hot with the seduction."

You were still teasing him when he signed the credit card receipt and stood. He helped you to your feet and said, "Maybe I was just saving all my worst lines to use on you. Make sure you really love me. You ever think of that, Princess?"

"It worked," you told him. "I actually do love you. And I especially can't wait for you to start wearing your wedding band." You gasped as he held the restaurant door open for you. "What are we going to do for music for the wedding? We don't have a wedding band."

"Oh," he said with a laugh. "I made a playlist."

"You made a playlist?"

"Yeah, you wanna hear it while I drive to the movie theater?"

He handed you his phone and let you start up the playlist. The first song was okay. So was the second one. You skipped along a few more songs, and then you looked at him while he drove and said, "It's all your old people music."

"Damn. Who's being rude now?" he laughed.

"It's just that it's all from the '80s!"

"So am I."

"Bradley! Be so serious!"

"What? You know how old I am."

"I'm adding some things to the playlist, and if I find the Electric Slide in here, I'm deleting it."

Bradley ran his palm across his mouth and said, "There's my little brat."

You sat up straighter in your seat, clearly proud of yourself as you tapped away on his phone screen. It was so hard to surprise you; the way you reasoned through things was exquisite. He should have known you'd call him out on the extra item from the jewelry store, and now you were glancing out the window as he pulled past the movie theater.

"Throwback '80s night?" you said, reading the marquee out loud. "Bradley Bradshaw!"

"Okay, fine," he said, parking and killing the engine. "I'm old, and I like old shit. But really, the movie selection was just for you, Princess."

You turned and looked at the marquee again as it changed to show the retro film of the night. "Adventures in Babysitting!"

-----------------------------

Bradley pulled some of the cash from the spot behind the TV and gave it to Amelia as she collected her belongings. She and Noah made some art projects together which she said were drying on the kitchen table, and once again, she offered to watch him anytime.

"He's the sweetest little guy," she promised as her eyes dipped down to your belly. "But you'll have to pay me more to watch two."

"We can negotiate your rate when the time comes," Bradley said with a laugh while he opened the front door.

"Deal."

She walked along the path to her parked car, and Bradley made sure it started up before he shut the door. He was turning the lock as he asked, "Did you like the movie?" But then his hand froze when he realized where your fingers were.

"I did," you promised, pulling his jeans zipper down over his considerable bulge. He wasn't even hard yet, but you were already so turned on. "Wanna go on your own adventure? With your former babysitter?"

You weren't subtle as you looked up at him and licked your lips, tugging him gently toward the couch. "If I ever say no to you, then there's something seriously wrong with me," he groaned, letting you pull his jeans and underwear down so his soft length hung out from beneath his shirt.

When he dropped down onto the cushion, you dragged his jeans down to his calves so he could spread his legs open a little wider. You kissed his tip and he made a soft sound at the back of his throat as he started to get hard. You dragged your hands up and back down his full length, keeping your eyes locked on his. "Hi, Daddy," you whispered before dragging your tongue along the pretty bead of his precum, enjoying the way he throbbed.

"Hi, Princess," he managed as you smiled up at him. His voice sounded strained as you moved slowly and meticulously, stroking him until he was rock hard.

Right before you took him between your lips, you said, "We're getting married." You smiled around his length as he whined your name, and you let him thrust until he tapped the back of your throat. Then you sucked along his length, inch by inch, until he popped free from your lips, and you whispered, "And we're having a baby."

His fingers found your cheek, his skin a little rough against your face as you rested your head on his thigh. Bradley's eyes were glued to yours, watching you with wide pupils as you lazily kitten licked his cock and stroked his balls with your thumb. "You look so pretty like this," he rasped, and you kissed him before continuing with your little licks. "You're gorgeous when you're driving me out of my mind."

You giggled softly, and his cock throbbed against your lips. "I like teasing you."

Bradley grunted, his fingers tipping your chin up as he said, "I can fucking tell. And you can tease me all you want as long as you suck me off in the living room for the rest of my life."

You licked his length and whispered, "I'll put it in my wedding vows." Then he guided your parted lips around his cock again, and he moaned in satisfaction as you took him deep.

His stamina was commendable like always. You gagged yourself on him over and over until your saliva was dripping down your chin and his balls. You gripped at his thighs as he thrust up to meet you with his fingers gentle on your face. And all the while, he words were sweet in comparison to the rough hairs rubbing your lip and the tears burning your eyes.

"You're perfect, Baby. Can't get enough. Gonna marry you... my beautiful Princess."

When he finally came, you were sputtering and practically in tears before scrambling up onto his lap as he told you he loved you. Bradley's hands found your belly as you kissed him.

"I love you too, Daddy," you whispered before he dipped his tongue between your lips to taste himself. Soon you and he would be married. You were pregnant and exhausted and letting him do most of the planning, but it would be great. No matter what happened on your wedding day, it would be perfect. You'd have Bradley and Noah as your family. The baby was healthy. You didn't want to overthink how you belonged here and fit with them. You knew that you did, even when it was hard to see yourself the way Bradley always seemed to. You snuggled against him and said, "I think you're perfect, too."

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I love this family. The next chapter was originally going to be their wedding, but I got some asks about Bradley's bachelor party, and well now I'm intrigued. So there may be one more chapter than I anticipated! If you have DILF Bradley bachelor party thoughts, please let me know. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 60

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luxewardroberentals · 1 month

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coff33andb00ks · 3 months

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Mountain Mama - LH

Lewis Hamilton x unnamed ofc summary: You can take the girl out of the country, but can you ever really take the country out of the girl? songs: Take Me Home, Country Roads by John Denver and Is This Love by Bob Marley & The Wailers a.n.: am currently soft for Lewis and had to write to get him out of my system spoiler alert it didn't work warnings: discussions of prejudice and racism, pure disgusting fluff, author unabashedly shows her love for country music, author also is fully in love with one sir lewis Hamilton now

She wasn't worried about her family liking Lewis. Her sister had already met him and was doing her part to talk him up as the greatest man that ever lived to the rest of the family. She knew there was a wary level of respect between her parents and Lewis after their unofficial meeting over FaceTime. He'd been a little shy but very sweet, telling them a little about himself, and later her mother had said well he seems like a nice young man.

High praise from mama, who'd called her last boyfriend dried up dog shit.

Her father hadn't said anything about him. He didn't follow formula one, only knew about it because of her photography, so he didn't know who Lewis was. But when he'd texted her to tell her he'd watched a bit of the race after she'd confirmed Lewis was coming home with her during summer break she knew he was at least trying.

So here she was, behind the wheel of the rental car, driving to her parents' home with Lewis in the passenger seat and Roscoe in the back. Music was on, the windows were down, and with each mile she traveled closer to home she felt both more relaxed and more anxious.

She needed them to like him. They didn't have to love him, call him the son they'd always wanted, or even add his name to the Christmas card list. They didn't need to learn everything about him. She just needed them to like him enough to want him around when she came home for a visit. She needed them to like him and understand how very much she loved him.

They would bristle a little bit. Especially Grandma. Because he was older. Almost 40 and never married? Hm… And all those tattoos… She could hear Grandma clicking her tongue in disapproval over the tapestry of artwork that covered most of his body. And her father's eyebrows would hit his receding hairline when Lewis inevitably dressed as though he'd just stepped out of Vogue to go down to the diner in town for lunch on Friday.

"Babe." Lewis spoke just loud enough to be heard over the music. She glanced over at him, saw his playful little smile as he lifted his phone.

"No," she laughed when the song playing ended and another began. Immediately recognizable because it was one of her lifelong favorites. The one her grandpa had sang on summer nights around the bonfire when he was a few slugs of moonshine deep.

Lewis held up his hands and swayed in time to the music. "Almost heaven, West Virginia… Blue Ridge mountains, Shenandoah river…"

And she had to sing along, because she always did. Because it was her favorite, yes, but also because he always sang it. The man who shook his head in disappointment over all the other so-called embarrassing songs on her Spotify never failed to belt out John Denver with his entire soul.

She slowed, turning onto the path that wound through the trees, anticipation growing as the trees grew further apart, spreading into the dusty lawn she'd learned to ride a bike on. A turn and she saw it. Home. The front porch where she'd sat on her grandma's lap sipping lemonade. The ever present barn cat sitting on the top step, black tail twitching. Her dad's truck was parked crookedly near the back of the house and she could just see the sheets rippling in the breeze on the clothesline in the back yard.

Stopped, song still playing, she stared at the place she'd grown up, trying to view it as a newcomer. The grass needed mowing, the barn needed a new coat of paint. The roof on the old smokehouse was sagging a little. The porch railing looked crooked. But for every imperfection she saw a beautiful memory. How many millions of dandelions had she picked when the grass got a little tall? Up in the hay loft of the barn her name was carved into the top plank. The smokehouse, which had always held the lingering aroma of curing meat, had been the best spot during hide and seek. And she'd been leaning against that porch railing when she'd had her first kiss.

Her throat tightened with emotion.

Home.

"C'mon, mountain mama," Lewis said softly, unbuckling his seatbelt.

She wanted to apologize for not growing up rich, for not having a stately home to show him. She knew she didn't have to. Lewis didn't care about that, and he hadn't grown up much better than she had. He only cared about seeing where she'd been raised and meeting the people who'd raised her. What had he said when she'd asked him to come home with her?

I already love that little town because it made you.

She climbed out while he got Roscoe out of the backseat, and was opening her mouth to tell him they could get their bags later when the screen door banged.

"Is that my baby finally come to see me?"

It wouldn't matter if it had been two weeks or two months or two years, she would get that greeting. Not even bothering to close the car door she broke into a run, jumping the top step and laughing through tears as she was wrapped in her grandma's arms.

"Oh I miss these hugs." Grandma kissed her cheek, gripping her shoulders and holding her at arm's length. "Look at you. That boy of yours is treating you right, huh?"

"He is, Grandma," she promised, looking back to see Lewis closing the car door.

"Oh." Grandma squinted her eyes a bit. "He is handsome."

She giggled. "Heart of gold, Grandma."

"What's his name again? Louis?"

"Lewis."

As if he knew they were talking about him he glanced to the porch, smiling. Roscoe was already making his way to the steps, looking warily at the cat.

"Go on, get," Grandma said, shooing the cat away.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. Grandma's shoulders were a little more stooped, her hands a little more shaky. Why oh why did time have to go by so quickly? Pushing away the invasive thoughts of her beloved grandmother not being around forever, she slid her hand into Lewis's once he was on the porch. "Grandma, this is Lewis. Lewis, this is Grandma."

"It's so nice to finally meet you, ma'am." He extended his hand and as soon as he smiled she knew her grandma was smitten.

"Oh honey aren't you sweet." She shook his hand. "Well, c'mon in – is that dog house trained?"

"Better than some humans," he promised with a grin.

They'd barely gotten into the house when her father came to greet them. He wasn't nearly as smitten as grandma, and she recognized the old macho act he'd played on all her old boyfriends. Then her mother came hurrying out of the kitchen, bringing with her the aroma of lemon meringue and peach cobbler.

There was overlapping chatter. Greetings and questions and the beginnings of an interrogation. Roscoe was cooed over by Grandma, given a begrudging welcome by her dad.

"I straightened up your old room," mama said when Lewis excused himself to go get their bags. "And got new sheets for your sister's old room."

"Is she staying too?" she asked in confusion, squatting to give Roscoe ear scratches.

"Of course not – you know her and Dale are almost finished the new addition on the back of their place? The twins will have a nice big playroom."

"Are the twins staying?" Why would mama need to do anything to her sister's room?

"No… It's for your boyfriend."

She froze. Oh god. Of course her mother would think… "Mama…"

"It's not fancy or anything but I don't think he'll mind do you? It's got plenty of room for him and Roscoe."

At that, Roscoe nudged her hand, silently begging for more scratches. "Mama, I thought he'd sleep in my room."

"Oh. Well you two can switch." Her mother shrugged.

"Jesus, Kathy, she wants to sleep with the boy," her father said loudly.

Surprise, Mama, I'm not a virgin!

"I don't think your dad likes me."

She looked up from unpacking her suitcase. Usually she didn't, usually she just rummaged to get what she needed, but she'd wanted a break before the rest of the family arrived for the cookout. The time change was affecting her a little and she wanted to get a nap in.

"What makes you say that?" she asked, setting her toiletry bag on the dresser.

"He calls me boy." Lewis was standing at the window, hands in his pockets, looking out at the back yard. Where her father and brother in-law were firing up the grill.

"He doesn't mean… He calls anyone younger than him boy," she promised.

"I get it. Really, babe," he said, looking over at her. "It just rubs me wrong."

"Do you want me to talk to him?" she asked, crossing the room.

"Will it change anything?"

"He's not like that, Lewis. He's southern, yes, he's a good ol' country boy, pickup truck, cold beer, guns and 'Murica, Toby Keith and Hank Jr, but he's not racist. If he's told that the way he says something is offensive, he stops saying it." She slipped her arms around him from behind, pressing her face to his back.

"It'll just make him like me even less," he sighed.

"No, babe… If he didn't like you, you wouldn't be in my bedroom."

He chuckled, covering her hands with his and interlocking their fingers. "Not only am I boy, I'm the asshole that deflowered his little girl."

She snorted at that. "Please, like I was an untouched virgin."

"How you were able to have sex way out here is a mystery to me."

"There are so many spots where you can go to be unseen," she told him.

Lewis hummed, unwrapping her arms and turning to face her. "Were you shagging farmer boys in the woods, babe?"

Leaning up, she pressed a kiss to his lips. "Once, yes. Most of the time it was in the cutoff down the old service road. Or out at the powerline."

"You weren't seduced in a bed?" He shook his head in disappointment. "I'm so sorry."

"And where was your first time, hm?"

He rolled his eyes. "Coat closet."

"That's even worse than a pickup truck."

"Didn't count, I wasn't in love."

"Oh see you didn't tell me that." Pulling on his hands, she walked backwards towards the bed. "That changes everything."

"Hotel room? Back seat of a car?" he guessed, letting her pull him along.

"A penthouse, actually," she murmured as she fell onto the bed.

He hesitated briefly then joined her, holding himself above her. "Penthouse? In Bumfuck Virginia?"

"You said it only counted if I was in love, right?"

"Mhmm."

"Penthouse. Monte-Carlo. Afterwards he took a bubble bath with me and we danced to Bob Marley." She watched his eyes soften and leaned up to meet his lips in a kiss. "He was the first one that made me feel loved."

"Does he still make you feel it?" he whispered between kisses.

"Every day."

"If he ever doesn't make you feel that way, will you tell him?"

"Yes." She kissed him again.

"Promise?" he whispered.

"Promise."

The food was delicious, and she was so happy her parents had made vegan alternatives for Lewis she could have cried. He seemed happy too, and during the meal she watched him talk with her dad and Dale, heart swelling each time he turned to praise her mama's cooking. Roscoe was parked between them, his gentle snoring just barely noticeable above the music playing.

It was a balmy evening, lightning bugs flashing as the sun sank low, and she watched Lewis's head drop back with a groan after he finished a third helping of Grandma's peach cobbler. "I think I hurt myself eating, ma'am."

Grandma glowed, patting his hand. "It's how I won her Papa," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

Lewis chuckled, rubbing his abdomen with his free hand. "If I was twenty years older…"

She beamed as Grandma giggled, so obviously charmed she looked twenty years younger in the golden glow of the sinking sun. "Oh bless your heart, honey, I don't think you could handle me."

"I can barely handle her," Lewis told her in a stage whisper.

And she knew her family liked him. Their laughter was natural, the conversation flowed. Her twin nephews kept coming over to him, asking him questions about his tattoos, his jewelry, and she fell in love all over again at how patient and gentle he was with them.

When he insisted on helping with cleanup she saw the warmth of approval in her dad's eyes. The twins said they would help, too, and she could only look on as they followed him back into the house, Roscoe taking up the rear.

"He's a good one," Grandma said.

"He's alright." This from her dad, and it was the best she knew she could get for now.

"I like him a lot, honey. You ain't looked this happy in a long time." Mama squeezed her shoulder on her way past, and right behind her was her sister, flashing a grin as she helped gather the platters.

"You wanna take a walk?" her father asked.

It was a callback to her childhood. Dad always said it was to work off what he'd just had to eat, but she had figured out in her early teenage years it was his way of checking in on her. Their walks after dinner had been when they'd bonded, and as she fell into step next to him and they strolled beyond the barn she realized how much she missed these walks.

"I didn't want to like him."

She pressed her lips together to keep from asking why. Always best to just stay silent and let him get all his thoughts out in his own way.

"He's a little older than you. But I think that's what you need. Someone to keep your head from floating with the clouds." He sighed, snapping a leaf off the old oak tree as they walked under the branches. "And… You know how people are around here, honey."

She nodded. "But not you, dad," she whispered.

"I don't give a shit, you know that. But even Dale said something, and… I know you always worry about what people think."

"I used to," she said.

"You always hid away from the world. And I let you. Thought I was protecting you from how bad it can be sometimes." He twirled the leaf between his fingers, sending it swirling. "You're out in it, now. Can't protect you anymore."

"I don't need protecting, daddy," she promised.

"You telling me your knight back there doesn't protect you?" he asked, stopping at the fence to the back pasture. "That bo – sorry. That man loves you, honey."

"I know. And I love him."

"People around here will talk." He propped his arm on the fencepost and looked out. "Ain't got nothing better to do."

"I don't care what they say." And she didn't. She used to, yes, used to care too much, pretending to be someone else so she'd be accepted. The only people whose opinions mattered were inside the house and standing beside her.

"Good. Because I want him to come around more often."

"You like him?" she asked. She knew he did, but she needed to hear him say it.

"Yeah, he's alright," he chuckled. Throwing his arm around her shoulders when she groaned, he pulled her in close.

"Dad…"

"Rest easy, honey. I like him. Long as he treats you right I'll never say a word against him."

They stayed at the fence and she let herself be her dad's little girl for a few more minutes, watching the sunlight fade. Walking back to the house she could hear music still playing, but now instead of her dad and Dale's country it was the smooth beats of reggae and she was smiling as she entered the kitchen to see Lewis dancing with the twins to Is This Love.

He spun to face her, face lighting, and ducked to speak to her nephews then held a hand out to her, drawing her to him. His lips met her forehead. "I wanna love ya, I wanna love and treat, love and treat you right…" he crooned softly as they danced in her mama's kitchen.

"You better," she whispered. "Because I think they like you more than me."

His laugh was warmer than any sunlight, and she didn't mind at all when he kissed her then broke away to ask her grandma to dance.

She missed all of this, the love and the comfort and all the memories.

But she couldn't wait for the love and memories to come.

#f1 #f1 imagine #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fic #my writings > lh #one parter

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amelee23 · 7 months

Text

Natural | Lee Minho

Genre: FLUFFFFFF fluff fluff, romance

Pairing: Lee know x gender neutral reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: going on a forest vacay to escape society, SUPER sappy cheesy stuff, SOFT, walks at 6 am, kisses and hugs and everything nice, a chokehold as a joke, humour, metaphors galore, he's cat dad, reader gets called kitten once, I love lino very much, promises for the future 🤭

Summary: You and Minho go on a vacation to a forest cabin. As he wakes you up at 6 am for a walk, you can't help but get sappy and admire him alongside the landscape. Your love for him makes Minho say something that might change your perspective of the future.

You were gently shaken awake a little too early for comfort. First thing you felt was the heft of your eyelids and a subtle throbbing in your forehead; but the first thing you remembered, though, was the way you have probably fallen asleep having extremely soft conversations with your lover, about how far the both of you have come, the things you've accomplished, how proud you feel of each other and also of your friends who you grew up with.

"The sun's not even awake yet." You grumble to him, and he gives you a silly smile.

"But I am!" You can't help but snort, still pushing your nose further into the pillows. You didn't want to get out of bed, really. "C'mon, get up. Go on a walk with me."

"At this hour? Ugh, you're so random sometimes." You say, grumbling, but you start moving out of the bed.

It probably wasn't random at all. If you were to make a guess, it was probably premeditated and he had some sort of intention for taking a walk in the woods at 6 in the morning.

Well, he hoped it would be 6 in the morning but your drowsiness didn't allow for it. He had to be patient, make you coffee and a light breakfast, or else you'd turn blue like the cookie monster and eat him alive without food and caffeine in your system.

You looked out the window as the two of you were silently enjoying breakfast. It was such a beautiful sight, and if you just allowed it, the cherry chirp of the birds in the morning was enough to block the demons inside your head.

Although he had woken you up at ungodly hours, this was the vacation you both dreamt of. You rented out a cabin in the forest, and it was, for once, just you and him. The last people you've seen were in a different cabin 10 minutes down the road, and the center rental establishment that had groceries and necessities was 20 minutes away. Of course, it could prove to be a pain in the ass if you didn't prepare well, but you made sure you had everything you needed - so that you could truly disconnect from the world and let yourselves be swallowed up by nature.

You should have guessed Minho was always planning to go on this walk, considering how serious he seemed about it. While you were eating and trying to awaken your brain cells, he got dressed in a cozy shirt, loose pants and a backwards cap and he was already arranging a small backpack with water bottles and his Polaroid camera. He went as far as packing an external phone battery, too. Then he sat down next to you and waited.

You've gotten to know his array of expressions so well, you thought. He was looking at you, and to an outsider his expression would tell them close to nothing. But no, his expression looked gentle, kind, patient, impatient, exasperated and excited all at once. You could see how eager he was to move, almost as if his body was half-way already bolting out the door. Still, he was trying to maintain his calm, since there was no point to the outside views that awaited him if you weren't seeing them with him.

Your eyes met as you were admiring him, and almost like a kitten pawing for attention, he gently pulled at the sleeve of your pyjama shirt.

You were so in love with him, it wasn't even funny.

He began your little nature adventure by holding your hand and guiding you to the forest path, but as soon as you could hear the crunch of pebbles and branches under your feet, Minho was gone. He walked far ahead of you, as if he was caught in a trance. It was so weird, because in reality all you could see was his slumped back, his sluggish figure trudging through the forest, but in your mind he was running, he was twirling, he was opening his arms large to welcome the sun into an embrace. If only he would let the freedom that guides his soul be seen, without the fear of being judged or the weight of society pressing down on him.

You weren't mad he left you behind. In fact, you were having a blast just watching him: trip over a rock when he was too occupied looking at the height of the pine trees, taking pictures with his phone of every and any flower he deemed pretty or interesting, whispering "squirrel" and "hello little buddy" whenever he saw a critter.

He would turn around and look at you once in a while to reassure himself you're there and that you're safe. (And weren't stolen by some forest goblin.) Whenever he'd make a pit stop to take pictures you'd catch up with him and he'd ask you if you're okay, if you're bored or if you want him to slow down his pace. You'd tell him no, you'd tell him he's so endearing being in his natural element. And he'd smile, but it wouldn't be the kind of smile that shows a collection of pearly whites or spreads from one ear to the other. Not even his bunny teeth would show; it would be a closed-lipped, subtle smile, that you found was the most meaningful of them all when it came to Minho. It was the smile of "I feel content", it was the smile of "I feel at peace". Put in simple words, it was the smile of "I'm happy." His happiness was quiet, that was what you observed. And this smile, the truest of them all, showed in various situations: when he was taking walks in nature, when he was preparing a meal, when he was playing with his feline babies, and when he was spending time with you. You were part of his silent happiness, and you were perhaps, one of the only ones who knew what it meant.

And understanding one's personality, one's inner workings is not exactly an easy feat. Just how it took millennia for humanity to understand the laws of the universe, Minho thought it would take decades for someone to understand him. That is, if someone ever did.

But when you arrived, it was as if you were an enforcer fighting for the preservation of nature. A flower is most beautiful when it is on the field that it belongs to, rather than being plucked and put into a bouquet, forced to look beautiful for someone else. You preserved the flower where it was. You didn't uproot it. You gave him water, nourishment and talked to him in such a loving manner, that now he blooms so beautifully.

He's become much more beautiful than a human being should ever be.

Minho stopped one more time to take a picture of the path, and the shadows the trees were casting on the ground. A ray of light sneakily made its way through them, casting itself on a ladybug that was climbing up the tree bark. Minho took a picture of the ladybug, then turned towards the stray light and offered his hand to it. He played with the light between his fingers, let it roll along his palm, and then he put his hand down. He looked up, towards the sky, more golden strands of the sun dancing along his face, and he took a deep breath. When he exhaled, his chest looked lighter, and he seemed to begin to shine, a light sparkle dusting the skin of his arms, as if he was really becoming one with the sun.

He was breathtaking.

Having finally caught up with him, your arms circled his waist and you embraced him tightly, cheek smushing into his shoulder blades. It was an urge, an instinct, to do so.

He seemed a little startled, but he didn't complain. He patted your hands gently and then he took a picture of your hands woven so tightly around his torso, without catching his or your face in the picture. You knew that because it became his lockscreen after that day.

As softly as he could muster, as if to not scare you off, Minho held your hand and spun around to face you, his eyes sparkly and curious.

"Everything okay?"

"Mhm." You respond, holding him by the waist as if to show you didn't want him going anywhere. Minho loved the warmth that enveloped him. "You just looked so natural, so genuine." You smile at him, and he instantly knows by your grin you were having a poetic, sappy moment. "You always look like you belong right in nature. Had to touch you to make sure you're real." You emphasize your words by squeezing a little bit at his hips and the skin above his ribs, and he lets out a cat-like yelp that makes you giggle.

You become an entanglement of limbs when Minho decides to cup both sides of your face as you're holding him. Your face slightly mushed together, he angles your eyes to look into his, and none of you would win the competition of who's more enamoured than the other.

"Sometimes I really can't help but wonder... what are those pretty eyes of yours seeing when you look at me?" He asks in the softest way possible, and you're suddenly caught in a trance. His eyes pull you closer, his skin continues to sparkle, and a gentle warm breeze seems to circle the two of you.

"Magic." You answer, promptly, with certainty, still bewitched by the portrait of him among the trees. He lets out a puff of hair as he chuckles, but he doesn't mock you. He caressed your face with his thumb and you too feel warm.

"Magic?"

"It's like the magic of nature is coursing through you..." You begin to rant, but figure out finding the right words is quite a challenge. But Minho was patient. "It's hard to explain. It's like you're out of this world ... and yet the most human I've ever seen someone be... The most natural." Minho has heard this song and dance before. Countless of times you've called him a forest fairy, a fae, a nymph...but to him the most fascinating part of it was how you were able to tell. You could see where he belonged, where he shone the brightest. You allowed him to realize when he was happy and not be scared of that happiness; therefore, there was only one thought forming at the back of his mind. A thought, that was of course, completely random and not something he's thought about hundreds of times before while you were sound asleep.

"Marry me." He blurts out, and you blink at him, awaiting a grin, a laugh, a smirk, a signal of a joke. But there was none. He was solemn and focused as he watched the slight panic in your gaze.

"Do you really mean it?"

"Yes. I mean, not now. Someday." He answers in a split of a second. But then, he backs out as if burnt. Maybe, just maybe, he let his impulses get the better of him. "Why, do you not feel the same? It's okay, you can tell me if I'm being too pushy-" He's panicking, and panic doesn't fit his handsome features. So you grab him by the shoulders and kiss him with passion.

Kissing Minho was addicting.

"You're the first person I've ever liked kissing this much." You confess to him after you break apart. Then, you wrap your arms around him yet again and rest your head on his chest, your ear prying in to listen to the alarmed pace of his heart. You squeeze him tight, so very tight, almost like he was a teddy bear. "The first person I've liked holding so much." His heart continued to drum, for he was confused about what you were saying. Was he getting an answer to his question or was this your subtle way of switching the subject, saying that you weren't ready yet? Minho tries to calm down in order to focus on what you were saying. "The only one for which romance made sense." You begin to explain, your cheek still tightly pressed into his chest. You're calm and you speak in what is almost a whisper. "Feelings aren't supposed to be logical, I know, but... being with you is. It's logical... it just makes sense, being in love with you. I can never blame myself for it, never hold myself accountable. Because falling in love with you ...came to me as naturally as breathing; like it was always part of my DNA."

There is a nature in all of us. Cells, stardust, but mostimportantly, love. To love is human nature, fact discovered ever since medieval times. Whether you loved God like Dante, or loved humans like Boccaccio, it is destined for all of us to love.

"Because I'm nature...?"

He was human, he was nature, and towards him you felt only that which is most natural.

"Because you're nature. And I love nature." You pull back to look at him and are startled to see the ocean of his eyes, the reflection of stars in the sea. He was trying not to cry, and looking at you with the fondness of a thousand families.

"Nature loves you too, kitten." Once more he holds your face close, but this time around he leans down to kiss you on the forehead. It is a long kiss. It is a warm kiss. It is a meaningful kiss. "The whole world does. And I do even more." Words like these touched chords inside your heart you didn't even know could be touched. Minho always told you so, that you weren't just worthy of his love, but the love of every single person on this planet.

"Yeah, I bet the world loves me if they gave me you." You say, and Minho thinks you are joking. You weren't, but there was perhaps a limit of how sappy a moment can be until it gets truly too much.

"Ew." He jokes back, scrunching his nose to fake disgust. A grin appears on his face, which you mimic.

And that's all you do for a while. Like a movie panorama, you stay there to look at each other. The clouds, the trees, something must have moved with the wind since the sun starts to line both of your faces. One of your eyes starts to squint because of the light, and suddenly it hits you.

"So, are we married now? Where's my ring?"

Minho didn't expect that, and there were a number of reasons why you were sure of it; one, because he starts to blabber and two, because his ears turned red.

"Well, I uh, I uh, don't- I said someday... Not this exact moment! Uhm...Hold on." It's a good thing Minho was a boy scout when he was young, although he would have never thought his skills would come in handy in a situation like this.

You're confused about what he was planning, but you let him do his thing. He squats down next to a group of small, white flowers and plucks them out from the ground in such a manner that their stems remain very long. Then, he picks a strand of grass and takes your hand in his to measure your finger with it. After he has your measurements, he begins to wrap the flower stems around the grass strand with such craftsmanship, almost as if it hasn't been 15 years since he last made a ring out of flowers.

When he is done, he gingerly slides it up your ring finger and he's proud like a child. The ring is cute, tiny and light, and it tickles your finger softly. It's not gold or diamonds, but it is a promise, and it is so much more natural than forged metals and stolen minerals. So much more Minho.

"There you go." He beams proudly. Truth be told, he is flabbergasted he managed to make the ring actually hold without falling apart. "Now we share all of our assets and you are legally obligated to feed my cats when I'm not at home and clean out their litters." He speaks matter of factly, and you slap him on the chest.

"You only want me so I can do your chores! Tsk, I think our marriage is already falling apart." You joke, pretending to turn around and pout. Minho finds you hilarious, especially as he envelops you from the back and holds you in a pretend chokehold.

"The only thing falling apart is gonna be my wallet when I buy you that ring." You don't know if it's the light of the sun or you're blushing, but your face grows hot. Getting married was, of course, the natural order of progressing things in a relationship. But a part of you has always wondered if you are someone to deem worthy of marriage; if that's something that would ever happen to you. Now that such reality was approaching, it did really feel like magic.

Minho released you from the tight hold and decided to walk with your hand in his instead. He was looking at your finger, at the hand-made flower ring, and his quiet, peaceful smile came back to his face.

"I promise I'll get you a real ring soon. You'll have it on your finger by the time we come here again." He speaks softly, in a murmur, but you hear him. You stay quiet, but he sees you nod. You acknowledge his promise, and a completely harmless anxiety mixes in with the excitement that comes with thinking of that day.

"Does that mean we're not gonna have a vacation here for the next 5 years?" Minho rolls his eyes at your question, and the sappiness finally seems to come to an end; you're back to your lighthearted vacation.

-------------------------------

"Or perhaps I'll make you live in the wild with me for the next five years. If we never leave we can't come back." He wiggles his eyebrows at you, gives you his trademark serial killer look, and there was never a moment when you've loved him more. Never a moment when you've loved him more naturally.

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647 notes · View notes

turcott3 · 7 months

Text

throw away

matt rempe x juraj slafkovský x fem! reader

warnings?: cursing, kissing, smut, oral f and m receiving, unprotected sex, creampie, restraint, choking, and of course (can’t go without it) fluff <3

masterlist

“you ready to go?” matt asks as you finish thre final touches on your makeup.

“yep.” you smile turning to look at him, standing in the hotel bathroom doorway.

“god you look gorgeous.” he says, smirking, eyeing you up and down.

“thank you.” you blush, zipping up your makeup bag up. you and matt had been “talking” for about a month now, you grew more comfortable with him by the day and were honored that he invited you to come with him to this offseason training camp.

“come on baby.” he says lowly, intertwining your fingers, pulling the room door open.

“so we’re going to a restaurant with all of the guys in your group?” you ask.

“yes but i wouldn’t exactly classify it as a restaurant. its more of a bar club situation.” he giggles looking down at you as you stood and waited for the elevator.

“what if i think one of them is hot?” you joke, locking arms with him.

“then go for it, i won’t stop you.” he replies pushing the floor one button. a response you did not expect.

“oh that’s um- i was joking.” you laugh nervously.

“well i wasn’t.” he replies kissing you on the head. you furrowed your eyebrows, concerned that you had done something wrong but you can’t think of a time you’d give him a reason to question your intentions.

“oh okay.” you say, sticking to your joke. surely you weren’t gonna be eye balling another guy. you had googly eyes the first time you met matt, there was no way you could react that way to anyone else.

“i trust you.” he smirks turning his head to look down at you. you could’ve melted into the floor at the way his eyes practically stared into your soul. you walk out to the rental car and he opens your door for you, making sure you were in your seat before shutting the door behind you. you loved his gentlemanly gestures even with no actual commitment. it was like dreaming.

“it’s a short drive.” he states, staring at the directions on his phone.

“i won’t drink.” you reply.

“me either.”

“okay then maybe i’ll have like one or two.” you giggle as he leans over the console pressing a kiss to your lips.

“yes, enjoy yourself okay?” he asks, his face inches away from yours, eyes locked on his.

“i will.” you reply, a blush creeping onto your cheeks.

“you’re so pretty.” he smirks, pecking your lips one last time before putting the car in drive.

like he said before, the drive was short. you two entered the building together, his arm holding you close to his side. it was crowded and the music was loud. quickly, you found yourselves hanging around some of the guys he befriended during the first few days of camp, getting to know them as you sipped on a drink. you being a decent lightweight, you were tipsy off the one drink and decided to cut yourself off. you enjoyed this feeling. tipsy but coherent and capable of controlling yourself, however, you cared a little less about the judgement you’d receive acting out.

“matt, can we dance? let’s go dance.” you beg holding onto his hands, pulling lightly.

“we’ll be back.” he giggles to the boys, allowing you to guide him into the crowded dance floor. the music blared as you turned your back to the boy, his hands running down your waist as you grinded back on him shamelessly, his grip on your body tightening occasionally. you grabbed onto his wrists, directing his hands onto your tits. he squeezed lightly over the fabric of your dress, a moan leaving your throat involuntarily.

“stop before i fuck you right here in front of all these people.” he groaned in your ear. you could feel him hardening through the fabric of his pants.

“so tempting.” you reply, turning around and running your hands down his chest and attaching your lips to his.

out of the corner of your eye you saw someone. tall, muscular, brunette, bright smile. you turned your head to get a better look as you hugged the side of your head to his chest. the guy looked straight out of a magazine. chiseled jaw line, defined cheek bones, hair that fell on his forehead effortlessly in the perfect places, you could hardly believe he was even real.

“matt.”

“yeah?” he asks looking down at you.

“i’m gonna go…. get another drink.”

“okay,” he pauses, “talk to a guy, i know that’s why you’re walking away right now.” he whispered with a devious smirk on his face.

“stop.” you shoved him with a red face as he chuckles, turning his attention to one of his friends. you approach the guy who was now standing alone at the bar.

“and who are you? i feel like i know who you are.” you state.

“it’s juraj, and you are?” he replies with a thick accent.

“y/n. it’s nice to meet you, where are you from? your accent is fucking gorgeous.”

“no the pleasure is mine, you are beautiful. and thank you, i’m from slovakia.” he smiles, looking you up and down.

“so you here for that hockey thing?” you ask not even hiding the blush that crept up onto your cheeks, taking a sip of whatever drink you were handed by the bartender.

“yeah actually i am. it’s been a little lonely you know.” he replies, his eyes shimmering in the dim light.

“i would’ve thought you had a girlfriend.”

“oh no no, can’t really say i’ve been looking. a hook up would be nice from time to time though.” he laughs.

“yeah i bet.”

“you know matt?”

“rempe?”

“yeah, him.”

“yeah i’ve met him, he seems cool.”

“we’ve been talking for a while, he’s been great you know?” you say turning to look at matt, who had girls circling him, yet he paid no mind.

“would you wanna like, go somewhere or….. it’s just a bit loud. there’s a lot going on in here, not private.”

“i think we’re good here, unless you can’t hear.” you hesitate. you remembered what matt had told you earlier but it was hard to break your habit.

“you’re good, i don’t wanna like pressure you or anything.” he says motioning his hands apologetically.

“oh were you- oh juraj, i’m like talking talking to matt.” you reply, scratching your head

“and?” he smirks, his intention was clear.

he wanted to fuck you, and you couldn’t say you weren’t on the same page.

“i mean maybe we could, do something.” you reply, playing with the hem of your dress.

“what’d you have in mind?” he asks, stepping closer, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“y/n.” you hear to your left.

matt.

“oh hey matt, i was just gonna come looking for you. this is juraj.”

“yeah we’ve met before.” he chuckles, dapping him up. compared to how large matt was, juraj wasn’t far off. he was sizable.

“so, babe, juraj was wanting to come back with me tonight and i was wondering if that was okay?” you ask, toying with the seam of his shirt. he turns to juraj and you practically see a lightbulb go off over his head. he nodded at the slovak boy with a smirk, dapping each other up once again. you wished you could speak their language fluently but you were assuming you translated correctly.

“we should go now huh?” matt asks, wrapping an arm comfortably around your waist. you simply nod in reply and matt begins to guide you out of the building as you held onto juraj’s finger behind you. you found your way back out into the car and prepared for a probably silent drive home.

“will you go in the bathroom baby? just give us one second.” matt asks with puppy eyes.

“y-yes?” you replied as the boy handed you a bag from victoria’s secret you had never seen before.

“go change.” he mumbled in your ear, kissing your cheek briefly. you looked inside the bag briefly before hesitantly walking to the bathroom. you removed the tissue paper and pulled out a beautiful white lingerie set, the same one you’d been eye balling since your birthday a few weeks prior. you pulled it out of the bag, eyeing the gorgeous lace detailing and delicate rhinestones that lined the cups.

“okay.” you say, hyping yourself up in the mirror. you loved how expensive you felt.

you hear light knocks on the door.

“come in?” you said, adjusting the straps. matt opens the door and goes big eyed.

“what? is it ugly? do i lo-“

“you look fucking delicious.” he replies, licking his bottom lip before grabbing your face with his hands and crashing your lips together.

“what were you guys talking about?” you ask pulling away.

“guidelines.” he replies, twirling a strand of your hair.

“what kind?”

“it’s not really anything, i mostly just asked that he was out of here by early morning.” he giggles.

“oh… okay.” you blush.

“go out there and get comfortable with him okay? i’m gonna shower real quick. i wreak of liquor. some bitch at the bar spilled his drink on me.” he giggles brushing his hair out of his face.

“okay, don’t be too long, i’ll miss you.” you say biting your lip.

“i won’t be.” he replies kissing you. you leave the bathroom shutting the door lightly behind you. you reveal yourself to the boy who sat scrolling on his phone, shirtless.

“oh wow look at you.” he smiles putting his phone face down on the side table.

“you like?” you reply, doing a full spin.

“you look gorgeous.” he smiles as you place your hands on his shoulders. his hands placed lightly on your hips.

“can i kiss you?” he asks, locking eyes with you.

“juraj, we’re about to be fucking, yes you can kiss me.” you laugh. he grabs your chin between his thumb and index finger connecting your lips with his. his lips were soft and sweet with the taste of his mint lip balm. your tongue plunging into his mouth, opening just like an automatic door. the kiss sent you spiraling. you sunk onto his thigh, clenching at the sensation of his thigh against your already sensitive core. your body jerked involuntarily, begging for friction. his hand lightly wraps around your neck, creating pressure on the sides and you grab onto his wrist. you begin grinding your hips on his thigh, moving in circles, your blood rushing straight to your clit.

“oh fuck.” you whisper locking eyes with him.

“you gonna fuck yourself on my thigh huh?” he grunts and you nod, his hand limiting the movement of your head.

“better be quick, he’s gonna be done soon.” he smirks as you speed up. your legs squeezed around his thigh as your rubbed against him, leaving a puddle of your wetness on his thigh, the thin fabric of your panties doing absolutely nothing to stop the sensation. you begged for your first climax, probably of many. he let go of your neck, you head crashing into his shoulder. his hand found his way into your hair as you crept closer to your climax.

“j.” you whined as his other arm wrapped around you.

“you gonna cum for me pretty girl?” he cooed in your ear.

“uh huh.” you reply with a moan, your legs shaking around his thick thigh, soaked in your climax. your chest rose up and down heavily as he rubbed your back gently.

"so so good." he whispers. you sit up reconnecting your lips before you hear the water stop running. you stand up from his lap, embarrassed at the sight below you.

"oh my god let me clean you up." you panic scrambling for your towel from the previous night.

"hand it to me i got it. get in bed, i'll be with you in a second." he states giggling at your embarrassment. he wipes his leg clean of you and removes his shorts, climbing into bed next to you. you rubbed your legs together, still horny as ever.

"so anxious." he whispered running a hand over your stomach, sucking on the skin of your neck. you tugged on his soft hair as he littered your neck with kisses. you heard the lock click and see matt turn the corner, his white towel not hiding the print of his thick cock.

"i see you got cozy." he giggles staring at the two of you on the bed.

"oh yeah for sure." you reply giving him a thumbs up, juraj chuckling next to you as he slides his boxers off.

"come sit." matt says undoing his towel. you scoot to the edge of your bed sitting on your knees.

"wanna use that pretty little mouth for me princess?" matt says with a smug look, sliding two fingers into your mouth. you sucked his fingers confidently before he retracted them, using your saliva to rub himself hard, which wasn't a difficult task.

"get on the ground. god, i want in those gorgeous lips of yours." he requests, placing a pillow on the ground for your knees, which you gladly comply and take him into your hands. you spat on his dick rubbing it in, glistening in doing so. you made contact with his tip, running your tongue over the sensitive head.

"fuck." he sighs, pulling your hair out of your face. you ran your tongue along the veins of his hard shaft, loving the taste of him in your mouth just like always. you bobbed your head up and down with the help of your hands before he pulled you off of him.

"wh-"

"it's not just me your mouth is taking care of honey." he interrupted, nodding to the boy who'd rubbed himself hard at the sight of you. your jaw dropped at the size of his dick. it was long and thick, you were overwhelmed enough by matt's alone. how on earth were you going to make it through this?

you climbed onto the bed and met slaf at his side. you took him into your hand, praying in some way you could handle this. matt climbed on the bed behind you and laid back, enjoying the view. you spat on your hand, working your saliva into the skin of his cock. you took him into your mouth, running your tongue in circles around his tip as you continued jerking him off with your hands. you ran your tongue up and down his shaft before taking him back into your mouth, sucking in your cheeks pulling him out with a pop. you felt matt pull your hair out of your face, keeping your lips on his dick. you opened your mouth back up for him this time with assistance. carefully, matt pushed your head down. taking more and more of juraj's dick into your mouth. you could only make it half way on your own but you had already passed that point. your eyes began to water as you reached closer to the base of his cock, gagging, gripping onto his thigh.

"god such a good girl." slaf groans before matt lets go of your hair and you pull him out of with a cough, spit webbing from your mouth. you laughed as you wiped the tears that spring loose.

"i didn't think i could do that." you say turning to matt.

"well it was fucking hot." juraj interjects leaning up slightly.

"lay on his chest for me baby." matt says kissing you deeply. you positions yourself in between slaf's legs, laying your back on his chest. matt spread your legs apart and ran a hand up your thigh. slaf grabs hold of both of your hands, pulling them above both of your head, his grip on your wrists firm. he wrapped his free arm around your waist snuggly as matt removed your thong.

"god i've been wanting to do this all fucking day." matt smirks licking his lips before diving between your legs. his tongue made intense contact with your clit, a sensation you'd been wanting since you arrived back at the hotel.

"oh my god." you yelped, clenching your fists. you bit your lip, trying to keep yourself quiet for the sake of your neighbors. if there was one thing matt loved in this world, it was eating you out.

"you taste so good sweetheart." he says leaning his head up as he easily slides two fingers into you. you squrimed in the brunettes grip as your thighs squeezed matt's head lightly.

"juraj please. please let go, i need something to-fuck." you moan squeezing your eyes shut, you buck against matt's face fighting slaf's grip on you.

"you gonna come princess? soak his face y/n. fucking drench him." he eggs you on in your ear lowly.

"j please, i need my hands." you beg, running out of breath. he releases your hands and immediately one finds its way into matt's hair between your thighs and the other gripping harshly on juraj’s thigh. you avoided finishing yet but the task was becoming increasingly difficult until you couldn't take it anymore. a yelp was released from your throat as you snapped into your climax.

"baby he's not even fucking you yet and you're fucking drenching his face." slaf giggles as matt backs away, his face drenched in your cum. your eyes full of daze, you sit up and attack him in a kiss.

"you're so fucking hot." matt says pulling away breathlessly.

"which one of us do you want first? we can take turns with that pretty little pussy huh?" matt laughs darkly, wiping his face with his arm.

"i want him." you say turning to slaf. his eyes lit up as he stands up out of bed.

"can i suck you while he fucks me?" you ask matt, linking your hands together, smiling at him with hopefully eyes.

"of course baby." he smirks, kissing your lips lovingly. you climb onto the corner of the bed, getting on all fours. matt rounds the corner and stands in front of you as slaf lays a light hand on your ass, running his cock through your soaking folds.

"so fucking wet for me." he says as matt jerks himself off in front of you, licking your lips waiting to have him back into your mouth. juraj pushes into your tight pussy from behind you slowly, your eyes rolling into the back of your head at his size.

"fuck." you moan as he bottoms out.

"so tight around me." he says retracting his hips at a sinfully slow speed. his thrusts were deep and long, sending you into a spiral of uncontrollable moans. the way his cock effortlessly hit your cervix drove you mad as he snapped his hips, the skin of your ass slapping against him.

"oh my fucking god." you say as he picks up his speed. his grip on your hips became harder.

"such a good girl taking him so well." matt says just above the volume of your moans.

"open up for me." he continues, placing a finger under your chin to look up. he pushes his cock back into your mouth, the vibration of your moans making him impossibly hornier. the feeling of juraj stretching you out while you sucked in matt’s dick like a lollipop left you wondering if there was ever a time where you felt this overwhelmed, but in the best way.

“oh my god.” you moaned with muffled words as slaf picked up his speed, you helping by fucking yourself onto him. the sound of skin slapping practically drowned out your moans, spit dripping down your chin as you gagged on matt’s cock. you found the strength to lift an arm and pull him out of your mouth.

“fuck, i’m gonna cum.” you tell, lazily jerking off the poor boy in front of you.

“i’m getting close.” the slovak grunts from behind you, pulling your hips onto him as he drills into you even deeper than before. the line in your abdomen snaps as an orgasm washes over your body.

“fuck fuck fuck.” you hear him groan as he spills his warm seed deep into you, fucking all the way through both of your climaxes, his thrusts became slow and lazy as you both ran out of breath. he pulls himself out of your throbbing core.

“look at that, fucking hell.” he scoffs, running a finger through the mess between your legs as you catch your breath.

“open up sweetheart.” he requests and you do as your told, sucking his finger clean of the salty fluid. you sat up on your knees beckoning matt over to you.

“i wanna taste you.” you beg and he smirks. you take him into your hand, rubbing your finger over the sensitive part of his head, putting in effort to get him there just like you had been. you felt his cock twitch in your hand as he spewed his seed onto your face. you licked the liquid that had dripped onto your lip gladly, using your fingers to wipe up some more and suck your fingers clean.

“hold still pretty girl. let me clean you up.” matt laughs grabbing a tissue from the nightstand, wiping it from around your eyes.

“such a good girl taking him like that, so so good princess.” he smiles at your as he holds your chin to keep your eyes on him. you grew tired as your body came down from your high, your eyes fluttering shut.

“you can’t go passing out on us yet honey, we’re not done with you.” he smirks pressing a kiss you your lips. you were exhausted but couldn’t get enough of these men.

“lay down for me baby. i know you’re tired, take a breath.” he continues and you do as you’re told. you lay back on a mountain of pillows, glaring at the two boys eyeing you.

“matt,” you say practically in a whisper and he climbs over you, “want you in me.” you finish.

“dont worry princess we’re getting there.” he smirks before pushing his cock into your coated pussy without warning.

“oh my god.” you huff out, locking eyes with him as he thrusts deeply into you, stretching you out just like before. this was a feeling that was intoxicating. you could never get used to it.

“such a tight little pussy huh? you like it when i fuck you like this don’t you?” he asks as you lock your legs around his hips.

“yes fuck yes.” you moan, your voice growing raspy at the strain you felt in your vocal chords. he pounded deeper into you than you ever could’ve imagined, attaching your lips as an attempt to quiet your moans.

“gonna wake up the neighbors pretty girl.” slaf chuckles standing next to you, jerking himself off at the sight of you getting annihilated by matt. you reach out your arm without looking, taking juraj’s dick into your hand, pumping him with decent pressure. you were surprised you could focus on multiple things considering your pussy was getting drilled into by a 6’7 monster of a man, you were honestly impressed with your ability to function.

matt breaks the kiss away focusing more on his speed now. you pull slaf’s hand wanting to bring him closer to you, putting his saliva-soaked cock back into your mouth. you hollowed your cheeks out taking him all the way, running your tongue along the bottom of his shaft on the way out. a galaxy began to form behind you eyelids at the boy pile driving you between your legs but you persisted on, twirling your tongue around the tip of the hockey player’s dick. you pulled away, grabbing harshly onto matt’s shoulder as you felt pressure in your stomach that you hadn’t felt before.

“holy fuck.” matt says slowing down and pulling out as your spewed liquid all over him. he looks down at himself in shock before laughing.

“what happened?” you asked leaning up.

“you just fucking squirted.” he scoffs.

“i did?”

“yes and it was fucking hot.” slaf says, leaning down and connecting your lips again.

“fuck you’re so perfect.” matt says pushing himself back inside you, quickly returning to his previous pace. he wasn’t able to go for long before you felt it again but this time he fucked you right through it.

“jesus need a fucking flood warning over here.” he grunts, pounding into you continuously.

“matt fuck i’m gonna cum.” you whine as he dips his head low, his hair tickling your face. your vision goes black as you tighten around him, your grip on his shoulder loosening instantly.

“such a good girl, you’re doing so good baby.” he grunts fucking you all the way through your high into his own, coating your walls with his milky seed. his thrusts slow down quickly, him growing lethargic with every thrust.

“so so beautiful.” he says keeping his cock deep inside you as he pressed a kiss to your lips.

“fuck i can’t believe we just did that.” you giggle with the little energy you had left as matt joins your right side.

“i’m surprised we got no noise complaints.” slaf giggles joining you on your free side.

“so?” matt asks you.

“that was fucking incredible.” you scoff, almost wanting another go round but you know you couldn’t handle it. you nuzzled to matt’s side, his thumb running back and forth on your side.

“well thanks for tonight guys it was great, i feel like it’s probably good if i go back to my room.” the slovak says picking up his clothes, scratching the back of his head.

“thanks for coming bro.” matt says dapping him up just like he had at the bar.

“yeah of course.”

“juraj wait.” you say sitting up, matt’s hand dropping to the side of your ass.

“what is it?” he asks and you beckon him over.

“nothing i just wanted to say bye.” you say sitting up, tugging the boy down by his shirt to kiss him one last time, not lingering too long.

“bye sweetheart,” he smirks, grabbing his phone and exiting the hotel room. you and matt laid in silence under the covers for the next hour or so before you drifted off to sleep in the boy’s arms.

“huh?” you groan being woken up with a kiss.

“good morning pretty girl, it’s 10. i figured i should wake you up.” matt says lowly, brushing hair out of your face.

“morning.” you reply sweetly, sleep lingering in both of your eyes.

“last night was crazy.”

“yeah it was.” you giggle in reply.

“if i asked you, would you be all mine?”

“what do you mean?”

“like, god okay don’t laugh at me this is gonna be a little cheesy, would you please make me the happiest guy ever and let me have all of you? i know it has only been like a month but you are literally my oxygen. i’m fucking obsessed with you.” he says truthfully and you smile pressing a kiss to the boys lips.

“i’d love nothing more than to be all yours matthew rempe.” you reply as he pulls you to his chest.

“my babygirl.” he whispers, running soft fingers through your hair as you fight the urge to drift off to sleep again.

“would you be open to doing last night again?” you ask after some moments of silence.

“oh fuck yes.” he replies and the two of you giggle, spending the rest of the day wrapped up in each other.

#matt rempe #juraj slafkovsky #matt rempe smut #juraj slafkovsky smut #matt rempe x reader #juraj slafkovsky x reader #nhl imagine #new york rangers #montreal canadiens #turcs’ talk

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