#flight is precious please
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anaceshornyblog · 3 days ago
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Thinks about monster jon and the prey coded jon to jon acting like just a very big very dangerous spoiled cat pipeline. Like. Baring his throat to the predator and being good for them to be safe at its strongest. Do you see it. Jon getting comfortable in the jaws of a predator because it's warm and secure here and nobody else can hurt him anymore. Jon and his horrible bad fucked up coping mechanisms. Anyways I'm so normal
- skiesandcandy
Prey-coded Jon my beloved!
Yes Jon is, by any definition that makes sense considering his new form, no longer prey. He’s the most dangerous thing in the apocalypse, nothing can hurt him, not really, he’s the apex predator here. He doesn’t need to go limp and pliant in hopes of appeasing the monsters around him.
However this is Jon, so of course those tendencies aren’t completely gone. So he’s still prey, but only to Jonah, because he belongs to him still, and Jon knows it. Jon is a dangerous monster, a terror to everyone, but just this big soft creature around Jonah. Learned helplessness in monster form.
Jon rolling over and baring his neck to Jonah because he’s still the true predator between the two. That’s okay though because Jonah only hurts him in ways he likes, calls him good, gave him a way to make everything else stop hurting. If it cant make decisions, then is it really its fault?
A terrifying monster in a pretty collar, that just wants to be held and loved and told that it’s being so good. Someone else is holding the leash so this isn’t its fault. Identity sliding away until it’s just the Archive, not anything else, just here to be filled. The big thoughts are sharp with edges that catch and hurt, but the small thoughts are comforting, it’s just here to be used. It can just be empty-headed doing what feels good, whatever Jonah wants, because Jonah wants what’s best for them, right?
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janumun · 6 months ago
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Misty Affections [The L&DS Boys - NSFW]
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Rated: NSFW/18+ 🌶️ (Take note of all warnings before you proceed) Pairings: L&DS Men/Reader Word Count: 6k+
Tags: polyandry/polygamy, bath/shower friskiness, multiple orgasms, oral, anal and vaginal sex, body worship, porn with little plot, double penetration, consensual somnophilia, edging, passing hints of breeding, scent kink
Summary: At the eve of your anniversary, you let the men, most precious to your heart, show you exactly how they love and cherish you. Slow and measured. Piece by piece.
Author’s Notes: I have been driven so insane ever since the drop of that crazy trailer, all I’ve been able to fantasize about are these beautiful men. Did so individually at first before they eventually converged within my mind into this behemoth romantic-sexy fest. (If you know me or my stories, you know I cannot go a second breathing without a little love in my sex LOL) 
This one’s for all my harem loving folks who’ve been left thirsty after the “Misty Invasions” trailer. Happy reading!
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You oscillate at the entrance to the penthouse suite, fingers tracing the sleek outline of the key card your boyfriend had provided you with, earlier; eager gaze skittering back towards the door. Heart within your throat and a swarm of butterflies flittering within the base of your stomach.  
An entire year had passed you by; the day of your relationship anniversary upon you now. And you’d decided amongst you, in distinct words and heated whispers, that you’d make it a day well worth commemorating.  
You smile at the recollection of Sylus’ amused gaze — blood-red garnet — as it had met your surprised one, a few days prior. He’d had you search up his entire house for an elusive Mephisto, on the pretence of having lost sight of him. Finding him at last, perched atop the silken pillows of his bed. And held within his beak, a sleek black card the bird had let drop into your palm, obedient, before taking flight.  
A key access to the penthouse suite of one of the most luxurious hotels in Linkon City.  
Sylus had tugged you close — his warm breath, a sweet caress against the shell of your ear — stating the date and time for you to be there, without questions asked. Your heart had thrilled at the time in nervous anticipation.  
Just as it does now as you move to hoist your umbrella — damp still from the outpour outside — onto your arm, clutching a bouquet of flowers close to your chest.  
Reaching to swipe your card, at long last, against the room’s digital pad—  
Before the door sways open on its own. Your gaze skipping, immediate, to meet the owner’s: scarlet, warm in amused affection. “How much longer were you planning to dither at the door?” His hand curves about yours as he steers you inside. Reaching to help you out with your coat and umbrella.  
“How did you even—”  
Sylus angles his face in mute indication, at the door, just in time for you to catch sight of Mephisto sweeping across the hallway, disappearing just as swift around a corner, with a triumphant crow. 
“I am going to cook that bird one of these days,” you mutter, discomfited at the thought of Sylus having been standing privy to your entire vacillation session outside. 
A large hand curls about your jaw, insisting your gaze upwards, just as you feel the heat of Sylus’ mouth on yours. “Don’t fret any longer,” his lips brushing each word right against yours. Every stroke tending sparks of fire against your skin. “you’ll make me want to tease you. And I promised them I’d be kind to you today.” The thick baritone of his quiet laughter sinks, hot, into your chest; down into the depths of your belly.  
Your hand curves about the back of his neck, heaving that infuriating mouth back against yours. “Please do be quiet for once.” Fingers grazing at the base of his hair before they card upwards, tugging at the strands.  
His mouth pulls into a wider smile, just as you all but force the large bouquet of flowers you still carry, against the firm expanse of his chest.  
“Happy anniversary, Sylus.” You murmur softly, flushed gaze fixated upon the flowers — snowdrops and lilies, roses and clematis — a representation of each of their colours that had painted your life brighter, over the course of your years together. You truly hoped your boyfriends would love them.  
Garnet gaze narrowing in quiet affection, Sylus coaxes your attentions back to him with a call of your name. “And to you.”  
“Now,” He winds an arm about your waist, dragging you flush against his torso. “let me find a place for these beauties while you go hop into the shower. You’re cold to the touch.” And when you move to protest, he silences it with a delicate brush of his thumb against your lip before he too bows forwards, to murmur, just shy of your mouth. “I promise you won’t miss me long, sweetheart.” 
Leaving you in the stewing solace of your own indecent thoughts. 
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Your relieved exhale breaks in soft wisps of white curling into the air, well comforted by the heat of your quick shower. Your eyes drifting absently towards the bath you’d drawn, your favourite scent now permeating the space of your bathroom. 
Petals rippling across the surface of placid warm waters; you knew how your artist appreciated the romanticism of your relationship. When you let yourself go and allowed yourself free expression of your adoration, for your Lemurian beloved. The colour, it never failed to bring flush to his cheeks at your simple gestures of affection, he so deserved. He had waited, and for so long.  
A mere speck of his patience, against your current restless wait, ever since his message had lighted your screen earlier this evening, indicating he’d be there to join you, soon.  
Sooner, you whisper into the air, slinking a cautious hand down the line of your stomach and towards your mound.  
It was so incredibly difficult to have all your lovers, gathered together in one place, owing to how busy each of you were with your respective schedules. Tonight, hence, was a rare, precious occasion and you intended to make the most of it.  
“Why so distracted.” A deep voice resonates at your back; a swift curl of pulsating red capturing your wrist before your fingers have the chance to brush in between your legs. Heaving your wrist up and back, depositing it prisoner into Sylus’ waiting palm. “You barely noticed me.” The roughened pads of his digits graze at the tender skin of your wrist in soft warning, before he lets go. “Couldn’t wait even a moment for me, huh?” 
You turn to face him, a puckish smile you know is already teasing at the corners of your mouth. “Just engaging in some personal time.” 
Sylus stands before you, body bare, save for the towel that keeps him from you, wrapped about his waist. A sturdy arm reaches past your shoulder, turning the shower off. Motions entirely unhurried. Deceptively tranquil, you do not miss the blood-red heat that simmers at the edges of that observing gaze.  
“Oh?” He crowds you a step closer into the wall. Your fingers coast in tense anticipation about the knot of his towel. “You wouldn’t mind if I turned that into a private time for two, would you, kitten?” 
You put on a deliberate show of pondering the question; a patient raised brow your lover keeps focused upon you. 
Until you tip a coquettish gaze his way and answer. “I suppose I would no—” Your response, Sylus pilfers from your tongue before you can utter it, pulsing a quick kiss of violence against your lips. 
Your digits impatiently work to release him from the final confines of his towel, absently tossing it aside. And onto the gnarled vines of red lurking at the edges of your vision, immediately reach to snatch up the cloth, discarding it into a wash bin close by.  
Laughter in between heavy breaths; coveting fingers, free at last, skate down the strength of his thighs, skimming past his stiff arousal. A small gasp of appreciation you break against his mouth just as Sylus lurches his hips forward, once, into your grasp to better let you admire the effect you have on him.  
“It’s been too long.” you murmur into the space he spares you in between wet kisses. 
“Darling,” he exhales; a small, rough sound of pleasure. “Not yet.”  
Sylus’ hands stir down the length of your body, fingers finding target, and pulsing into the soft of your ass before you can try and bribe your case with him, to give you what you want. Hefting you up entirely onto the corded strength of his arms, stifling your sound of surprise against his mouth. 
He bids you wrap your legs about his waist, as he walks you both over towards the luxurious bath. “Now,” Settling down into the warm, scented water, he eases you back against himself. “Let us get you washed properly.”  
You eventually relent and let him do as he pleases for the next several minutes. 
Drifting a careful hand about the expanse of your legs, you try not to squirm too much when that devious hand skirts about your inner thighs. Across the arc of your clavicle, down the slope of your breastbone. His palms bear down against your abdomen in provocative press-release motions. You're not quite sure what kind of bathing Sylus assumes he’s doing except just keying you higher, the longer you endure his hands upon you.  
Hands that grow unrepentant and bold with time, the self-pleased skew of those infuriating lips following soon after, down the slope of your neck, along the curve of your shoulder. You tip your face sideways, smoothing a quick kiss onto his jaw. “You keep this up any longer and you’re going to have an incredibly frustrated woman on your hands.” 
He buries his grin into your shoulder.  
“And I’m not sure what I’ll do then.” you threaten mildly.  
“Is that so? I’d certainly like to see you try.” He accepts your provocation.  
You reach an arm up, winding it about his neck. Fingers splaying against the damp brush of his hair as you angle your head up and he obliges, head canting for your mouth to catch against his. His tongue sweeps against yours in immediate insistence, your eager allowance in the slack fall of your mouth as he presses into you.  
Sylus’ indolent digits change tune then; a large palm he curves about the weight of your breast and squeezes. The roughened pads of them toying at the pert apex, until he coaxes your moans out for himself.  
The muted click of a lock sounds within your surroundings; quiet, save for the gentle ripples of water and your damp sounds of pleasure.  
“Ah,” Sylus murmurs in between kisses. “He’s here now. We would’ve ended up using the little princeling’s entire bath for ourselves if he’d turned up any later.” 
A thrill of pleasure and adoring desire crests itself within your chest, calling your approaching beloved’s name on a long sigh of pleasure Sylus wrenches out of you. “That’s it, sweetheart, tempt him on higher sounds next.” 
Restless within his lap, you wrench your mouth away from his, raising yourself onto your knees to turn, capturing him in between your thighs. 
Just as Rafayel steps past the threshold of the baths, appearing to be in the midst of wresting himself out a long sodden shirt. You absently muse how he must’ve forgotten to carry an umbrella with him, yet again, out on one of his painting expeditions, despite your reminder to him just last night. “It’s pouring crazy out there and I’m drenched to the bone—”  
His words nicked mid-sentence with the slow rise of those bluish-florid eyes — taking in the lascivious scene in front — along with your thoughts torn into jagged shards of pleasure with the firm catch of Sylus’ teeth against your breast. A large hand he splays at your back, enticing you closer into his mouth. 
Your eyes, refusing to stray from Rafayel’s, even as he remains rooted to the threshold. A flush beginning to colour against the arch of his cheeks to witness how Sylus augments your pleasure further underneath his enraptured gaze. 
Pleased joy ripples through you, to be putting on a tantalising show for your beloved Lemurian, entreating him closer on soft sighs and broken moans of his name.  
“Please,” your next gasp of pleasure scatters under the prick of stimulated tears. “Rafayel, my heart, come to me.” 
And like a beautiful marionette pulled upon by its strings, he obeys your request, striding towards the two of you. Bestowing mercy upon your poor heart, you feel, could pound right out of your chest.  
He tips downwards, long, graceful digits sweeping delicate beneath the cut of your jaw to raise. Brushing a sweet kiss of greeting against your mouth. “I’m here, beloved.” 
Fingers refusing to cease his exploratory touches, his thumb glides past your cheeks, dusting right beneath your eyes at stray tears.  
“Welcome home,” you greet, your own fingers curving about his jaw in hazy affection.  
“You’re late,” Sylus speaks, his hand trekking a careful path about the flare of your hip.  
Rafayel frowns at that. “I know. Not like I didn’t try to be here sooner.” Fingers tinkering at his belt buckle before he slides it, smooth out of its confines. Your eager hands reaching to assist, rushing down the line of buttons at his shirt, divesting him of his impediments.  
“You’re freezing, Rafayel.” You observe, palms pressed up against his naked abdomen. 
He catches one of your hands within his, feathering a kiss onto your knuckles. “Warm me, then.” An irrefutable instruction as much as it is his soft request.  
Relieved entirely of his clothes, he steps into the bath, fingers entwining against yours in a firm hold, coaxing you onto his body instead.  
“You're so cosy.” He appreciates in between hungering kisses. “Share more of your heat with me.” The soft squish of your breasts mould against the solid expanse of his chest the deeper you try and press against the other, your arms encased about his neck, fingers carding greedily through the wet strands of his hair.  
Rafayel shifts your positions, guiding you back against Sylus’ chest by your threaded digits. The hard heat of Sylus’ cock presses against the cleft of your ass as Rafayel drives you further in by the urgency of his kisses. 
His bond shimmers to life — a scarlet vow — right above his heart, your own thrilled by the rapidly dissipating chill of his body, replaced with passionate warmth. 
“I’ve missed you.” He drags your intertwined digits closer, directing your hand to press against the thrumming of his heart. “And especially today, being so important. I wanted to be next to you for the entirety of it.” 
Rafayel’s eyes, misted in desire and affection so acute, your breath catches at your throat at the sheer intensity of it. He secretes a gentle kiss into the fold of your palm. “I want us to make this a memorable anniversary.” 
“You already are.” You keen softly, in assurance, fingers stroking down the length of Sylus’ thigh. “I desire you both so very much right now.”
He returns your fervent regard in the thick digits that skim past the curve of your spine, fingering in sparing strokes at the rim of your ass. You gasp at the sensation, body clenching in on the emptiness it has long been subjected to. 
You need them both; the carnal strength of your want winds you breathless. 
Sylus had left you suspended upon a torturous precipice for so long, you weren’t sure how much longer you could hold on for.  
“Hey,” Rafayel prompts. 
Garnet binds immediately spring to life, streaking towards the bottles lined up neat atop a marble slab. Plucking one up as if by rote memory, before depositing it into Rafayel’s grasp. “As our princeling desires,” Sylus speaks; the raw amusement you can hear within his words.  
Rafayel’s response is all but a raised brow — they have learned to synchronize well against each other, you realize with a shaky exhale. You are glad, as you are nervous, for the state of your body; the havoc they wreck onto you, once your boys are in tandem.  
The lubricant well-smeared across Rafayel’s digits, he reaches in between your bodies to run his fingers against the same place Sylus does, two sets of different fingers they ease, gentle, into your ass. Rafayel’s low groan of pleasure, you lunge forwards to drink against your lips.  
“I need—” you cry out against him, just as Rafayel withdraws from you entirely to leave Sylus to press his fingers deeper into you, a slow, caressing slide; eased by their gentle loosening of your hole.  
Rafayel hums a low, euphoric sound. “Do you need him deep inside you, my love?”  
“Yes.”  
“You’re almost there for me, sweetheart. Breathe.” Sylus’ grunt of approval at your compliance, he drowns into a relishing bite at your shoulder.  
Rafayel’s mouth descends upon your breasts, pulsing open mouthed kisses right above the expanse of your thundering heart, his fingers finding their way towards your neglected slit, mercifully pressing into you. A loud, broken moan wrenched out of your throat, pleasure now far palpable after having been edged for so long.  
“You’re so wet. So very captivating when you are like this.”  
“I love you, Rafayel.” you gasp, tears gathering at your eyes to feel so full of them both.  
He pulses a kiss against your mouth in heated devotion, tongue warming against yours in between urgent breaths, “I am yours. Call for me, my beloved bride.”
“Rafayel.”
“Ah. Once more, so I know I am entirely yours to have.” he entreats, gaze heated. 
His fingers gather pace — in tandem with Sylus’ controlled assault — striking rhythmic against your frontal walls on each thrust. A spot he gathers at, one that incinerates itself against his adept motions, insistent thumb gliding its touches about the sweet area of your apex, hurtling you faster towards a vehement finish.
“And that you are mine. Call my name, call for me.” 
“Rafayel, my Rafayel.” And you tumble over the edge at that final delightfully sensual push, quivering nerveless, in between your lovers.  
“There’s more of where that came from, kitten. Don’t give up on us now.” Sylus coaxes, extracting himself from the instinctual clench of your body, whimpering at the keen emptiness of his loss.  
“Give yourselves to me,” you beg, “I need to feel you inside me.”  
“And you shall have us,” Rafayel soothes, pressing the head of his cock against you.  
“As many times as you need.” Sylus allows; the swell of his arousal striking heavy against the cleft of your ass.
The slow ingress of their cocks deep into your body, sends explosive stars skittering across your vision, the overwhelming fullness already throttling you into another orgasm so intense, they have to hold your body still against theirs. Propelling into you in tandem with each other until they set a rhythmic, burning pace within your swollen holes.
Rafayel’s fingers cup about your jaw, dragging you into a fervid, wet kiss. His moans of pleasure he drowns against the heat of your tongue. 
Before Sylus lunges forward in a demand for your attentions next, strong digits threading through your locks to guide your head towards him, catching the string of pleasure that stretches thin in between your and Rafayel’s lips, as soon as it forms, against his mouth in a violent kiss.
The thick strength of his cock pulses firmer within your body, each swollen stroke of arousal you feel zip right up across your spine from how Sylus has taught your body to fit his daunting size, well. Each propulsion he carves deeper into your walls, a striking reminder of how intimately your body remembers the shape of him.   
Rafayel takes to painting littered marks of pleasure against your neck, their lengths already throbbing in impending release, searing within you. 
You squeeze about them at the sole, ruinous thought of their wet heats, flooding you soon. Moaning against Sylus’ mouth when their pacing turns reckless.
“Close,” Rafayel grits in need, cleaving your thighs up and open to constrain against Sylus, the man behind spares no mercy; hot scaffoldings of his own palms, he curves above Rafayel’s, so your sole choice is but to take. 
“I’m almost, fuck—” Sylus groans a filthy, guttural sound, “you’ve gone so tight, sweetheart.” Burying his face into the stretch of your shoulder, just as Rafayel’s mouth finds yours at the apex of his pleasure, spurting hot within you. 
Sylus’ own release, almost immediately after, his cock pulsates its thick release into your body, surge after surge of it, your body unable to accommodate it entirely. Their combined pleasures, the frenzied brush of both their fingers against your clit, sends you hurtling into your own orgasm, sobbing against Rafayel’s mouth.  
Emptying them both, of their seed, for yourself.
You fall breathless against Sylus, strength and consciousness both seeming to flee with the final sparks of quivering pleasure that jolt about your limbs. Letting yourself rest against the strength of Sylus’ body as he soothes a kiss onto your damp temple. “A job well done, sweetheart.” 
His final words, you accept in immense bliss, before entrusting yourself to your men in your vulnerability.  
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A long time has drifted by you, it seems — minutes or hours — you cannot quite tell the difference as your mind edges the cusp of awareness. You recall the sensation of your lovers’ hands upon you, phantom breaths that persist against the expanse of your skin, still. Words of adoration, grunts of desire, the press of their lips you feel within each sweet ache of your body.  
The glancing touch of a hungering mouth, at the places you were weakest. The luxuriating stretch of silken sheets at your back — body coddled in soft fabric — as you shift, eyes drifting open on a haze of lust that still chokes your mind, a simmering wet heat kindling in between your legs. Flowing from you and onto an insistent tongue.  
Your breath catches in your throat at the sensation, gaze rushing down the expanse of your body to snag at the sight of a silver-haired head buried in between the space of your legs, moon-pale strands brushing the skin of your thighs in ticklish strokes. “Oh. You’re awake.” Xavier speaks, right into your pussy.  His fingers pulse about the catch of your legs, keeping you steady for a slow sweep of his tongue into your slit. Sending your fingers grappling forwards, into his hair, your hips lurching up into his mouth. 
Cheeks flushing fast into crimson at the realisation of how wet he’s made you, in your slumber alone. 
Xavier relents at last, rising from in between your legs. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.” Your slick drenches his lips, smeared across his jaw; the sight sending a fresh jolt of arousal straight in between your legs.   
“Xavier,” your voice sounds hoarse to your own ears. “starlight.” 
He nuzzles his cheek, obedient, into the palm you stretch out for him. Pulses a wet kiss onto the expanse of sensitive skin. “We’re home.” He murmurs, clear cerulean eyes meeting yours. 
“How have you been?” The quiet baritone of Zayne’s voice reaches your ears from above, you notice your head lies cradled within his lap, the pads of roughened fingertips scraping gentle circles into your scalp. You shift yourself upright onto the bed.  
“Well. Now that you’re both here.” You curve coveting fingers about his jaw, luring his face closer to brush a gentle kiss against your lover’s mouth.  
Zayne’s long changed out of his stifling attire, clad in a loose robe — he’s eased himself by your side. Carding absent fingers through the fall of your hair to hold steady, as you greet each other in chaste kisses.  
The day’s harsh lines marred across his bow, softening with each kiss you flitter against his mouth, his cheeks, his lids apiece. He hasn’t had a proper weekend off from the hospital in ages; you’re determined to make the most of it now and help ease your beloved’s nerves tonight, and over the course of your rare days off. 
You all deserved it, this short moment of reprieve, a chance to celebrate and enjoy what was purely yours.  
You inch up across his lap, body much too aware of the moisture that soaks past swollen folds and leaks onto your thighs, an obscenity barely concealed by the flowing frills of your flimsy nightwear, caressing just past your ass. A fact, Xavier has not let you forget, owing to how his hands haven’t deprived you of their warmth, even when his mouth has — slow, stimulating touches across the stretch of your thighs, fingers tickling at the sensitive skin underneath your knees.  
Xavier advances up the length of the bed, with you. His torso draping onto your back, careful hands gathering your hair to shift onto your other side, he grazes a demure kiss onto the crescent of your exposed shoulder. 
You sink down upon Zayne, securing your much needed support, in the palms you press against the hard expanse of his chest. “How was your day?” Murmuring the question into the give of his neck.
“I had a graft and by-pass surgery planned earlier this afternoon.” Zayne replies, fingers trekking a measured path from your throat, down, along the slope of your clavicle; you shiver underneath his scrutiny. “It went well, so I was able to join you sooner rather than much later.”  
“Owing all to your brilliance surely, Dr. Zayne.” Your affectionate smile, you secrete against his mouth. “Xavier, however. I expected you sooner, starlight.”  
He hums — a sound of morose defeat — into your skin. “I nearly dozed on my feet during that unnecessarily long briefing.” Burying his face into the side of your neck, to breathe; his next murmurs stifled. “They could’ve just mailed the mission details to me. I wanted to head back with you too.” 
You laugh softly, sinking your fingers indulgently into the silken strands of his hair. “Captain Jenna would be so upset if she heard you right now.” 
“And you.” Large palms cup about the pliant flare of your waist, your breath hitches at Zayne’s provocative touch. “It certainly looks like those two did a somewhat decent job of taking care of you in our absence. The colour’s back in your cheeks.” 
You smile, sheepish, at the remembrance of your last meeting; his displeased frown, vivid, from across the barrier of his work desk, as he’d prescribed a few vitamins for you to take, owing to the sallow pallor that had taken your face, an aftermath of long sleepless nights chasing Wanderers.
“Oh, they have.” You assure, “Speaking of, where are my missing two?” 
Xavier’s teeth sink into a testing bite at the flesh of your neck. “Fixing a meal I think, Sylus mentioned.” He murmurs absently. 
“Ah. We should all have—” your voice fractures. “dinner together.” 
“Later.” Zayne leans forward, mouth skimming a gentle kiss in between your breasts. “Right now, I require you sate a different hunger of mine.” Teeth catching at the gauzy fabric of your lingerie. “Don’t make me wait any longer.” The low rugged quality to his request, pooling arousal deep into your belly.  
“I like how she looks in this,” Xavier smooths a touch down the length of your thigh, fingering, gentle, at the frilled garter of the stocking encasing it. “I’m almost jealous of you, Doctor.”  
“It is becoming on her,” Zayne agrees, large fingers cupping about the shape of your breasts, rolling at the peaks. You shift your hips in a grind upon his thigh, in an anguished effort for further stimulation. “But does the recipient herself approve of my gift?”  
“She does,” you gasp. “If it gets you looking at her with such need, she does—” The rest of your words, Zayne pilfers right into his mouth in an engulfing kiss. 
Strong fingers ghost the pliance of your body, down in between your legs to meet Xavier’s. Hot, glancing touches across your quivering pussy, coating their fingers in copious slick.  
“The doctor looks so wound up,” Xavier comments mildly. “Help him relieve some of that pent-up stress, baby.”  
“You—” Zayne grunts, just as Xavier steers your bodies until you lie, pliant, upon Zayne’s lap, the straining outline of his arousal barely concealed under the modesty of his robes. You moan enthusiastically, fingers undoing the fastenings of his robe to release him, free against eager lips.  
“That looks painful,” Xavier comments with an insouciant shrug, hands firming their grip about your ass to raise. “How long have you been holding back?” 
“Quiet, Xavier.” Zayne reproaches, voice throttled in raw need. 
Your heart and body immediately melting for him, you put your mouth to the head of his cock, taking him in.  
A quiver rips across his abdomen at the first lap of your tongue on him, his fingers gentle, encouraging within your hair. A vehement desire cascades forth: to see him make more of that expression, just for you.  
“Wet him for yourself, just like that.” Xavier encourages on a soft catch of breath, tapered fingers curving into your drenched slit to stroke against your frontal walls. 
Working your tongue steadily, about the generous girth of him — Zayne’s digits remain a patient point of pressure against your scalp — until he hits your throat, pleasant and full, at long last. You groan around him, Zayne swallowing heavily at the vibrations of your throat.  
“Don’t be gentle.” Xavier speaks, releasing himself from the wet confines of your clenching walls — fingers he unfurls forwards, to smear across the free length of Zayne’s cock, your throat could not accommodate.  
You feel Xavier settle heavy, upon the cleft of your ass; the head of his own cock he glides, indolent, in between your dripping folds.  
And just as your insides flutter in impatient emptiness at the baiting stimulation, he enters you on a swift stroke, your garbled sound of pleasure, sending you deeper onto Zayne.  
Xavier sets a furious, punishing pace for the three of you, your mouth working diligent against the hard strain of Zayne’s arousal. Your smothered cries of delight mixing with theirs, heated into the air; Zayne’s low guttural groans stirring deep into your belly, within the same space Xavier works open with his cock.  
Your silver beast descends upon you, mouth working a steady path along the length of your spine, tongue sweeping a cool, wet trail in its wake.  
His fingers reach to tuck stray strands of hair away from your face — easing them behind an ear before he gathers the fall of your hair into a gentle fist, granting an obstructed view of your ruination, to your lover in front. 
The pleasured flush dashed across Zayne’s cheekbones, hurtles higher to witness the wreck of desire you know is upon your face. He looks at you as if he wants to love and ruin you, it sends a jolt of inundating slick, right between your legs.  
Xavier grunts at your tightening walls, licking a strip up the curve of your ear. “Can I—” His voice ruptures in overwhelming arousal. “—inside? I want to. Let me?”  
Your answer; a moan of vehement assent, intermixing with Zayne’s responsive groan. Come for me, Xavier.  
His grip upon your hips turns bruising, pelvis driving hard against your ass until he’s releasing himself; hot, pulsating strokes of come, painting into you.  
He pulls almost immediately out of your quivering walls, palms shifting underneath your body to lift, until he positions you, right atop Zayne’s drenched cock. His seed still spilling out onto the swollen head of him, just as he coaxes your hips down to take Zayne in, the two of you groaning out in concert at your union.  
Zayne surges forwards, sweat soaked forehead pressing against yours; a low, inarticulate curse tumbles from his lips at the clench of your walls, still sensitised from Xavier’s release. 
“You’re burning up.” Long, thick digits curve beneath the nerveless stretch of your thighs, guiding you in deep, measured thrusts over his cock.  Xavier’s ministrations having had you well-prepared to accommodate Zayne in a single stroke. 
On usual days, your body able to accept him only in gradual, pleasurable propulsions, he works deep into your pussy.  
“Lean on me.” Zayne speaks.  
You do as he asks, appreciative of the reprieve allowed to let go and let Zayne guide you both into bliss. His fingers stroke about your entrance, a thumb he grazes against your clit, in an electrifying jolt of pleasure. 
“Come now.” He instructs the man at your back. Soothing a hand down the curve of your spine when you feel Xavier’s arousal, firmed into solid stone once more, at your entrance. You moan at the prospect of what’s to come. Never having accepted any of your lovers into the same space, when Zayne is inside you. 
“Breathe for me.” He asks of you. “Look at me.” And you do, in willing love; gaze finding his, coddled in the comfort of his verdant eyes — steady — even in the heated throes of your combined passion. “I am here for you.”  
Just as the head of Xavier’s cock presses, insistent at the base of Zayne’s, your body beginning to give into him. Zayne hastens to curb his grunt of pleasure into your mouth, tongues moving against the other as Xavier steadily strokes a slow path into you. 
Both your men settling whole and so incredibly full within your body, you sigh in shuddered stimulation when they navigate a rhythm in between your bodies, never leaving you empty for even a moment’s reprieve. A stretch so good, it stirs satisfaction deep into your stomach. The desire for them to leave you drenched up to your womb as you voice it on incoherent whispers, head rolling back onto Xavier’s shoulder.  
Their hands; gripping about the shell of your hips, down upon the flare of your thighs. Across the pinching stimulation of your breasts, your throat. Xavier’s fingers brushing to feel the desperate thrumming of your carotid beneath his hold.  
Sweeping an index across your damp lip, end to end, before he slips a finger into your mouth, toying at the pink of your tongue as it darts out for a taste.  
The fever of your desire streaks higher, passion so incinerating, it only takes Zayne a thumbing caress across your clit before you are convulsing, violent about the two of them in a loud, sobbing cry. Wetness slicking down your thighs despite the way they plug you, their pacing climbing faster with each swift second of inundating pleasure your clenching walls force upon them, chasing a high they seek to release into your body alone.  
And when they come with bated breaths and strangled groans, your combined essence overflows from in between your legs, staining the sheets wide and dark beneath. 
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It is only several breathless moments later that you are able to move, body wasted and draped upon your chosen seat — Zayne does not look as if he minds much, smoothing a kiss onto the sweat-slick stretch of your breastbone. “Happy anniversary, my reckless Hunter.” And then in slower, softer words. “I love you.” 
You kiss your response against his mouth; a happy, languorous sound leaving your throat. Curving an arm tighter about Xavier nuzzled into the side of your waist, your gentle beast having settled into a short slumber, after having murmured of needing your warmth close by.  
The doors to their bedroom slide open just then, to admit Sylus, carrying what looks to be an expensive bottle of wine and a set of glasses, nestled onto a salver perched across his arm. Rafayel, following close on heel, with a large tray on hand; the pleasant scent that wafts from the steam laced spice off the fresh spread of food, triggers your bout of hunger.
“Reckless brutes,” Sylus comments, an amused brow he raises upon witnessing the utter disarray of your wrecked states. A smile that skews only wider with the distasteful knit to Zayne’s brow.  
As if he was one to speak, you would’ve snorted in defence, if you weren’t so drained. 
Xavier, too, stirs beside you at the commotion just as the last two men of your heart move to join you upon the vast bed. “Get up and eat.” Sylus instructs, rapping his fist against Xavier’s prone form. 
“You alright?” Rafayel questions, the moment he is seated at your side, reaching to entwine his fingers in between yours, a hoarse sound of approval you respond with, at his pleasant touch.  
In between Zayne and Rafayel, they guide your body into an upright position. 
Your head coasts sideways and onto Rafayel’s shoulder, in languid stupor, as he brings a spoon of hot broth to your lips. “Start with this, you’ll feel better once warmed from the inside.”  
“Warm her, they did already… from the ‘inside’ that is,” Sylus’ licentious whisper reaches your ears from the side, setting your face to an incandescent glow at the recollection. 
“Crude.” Rafayel reproaches — you do not, however, miss the scandalised red that seeps across his ears at his provocations.
You join in quiet laughter at Sylus’ words, burying your face deeper against Rafayel’s skin. A cosy arm he immediately brings about your shoulders to hold you close, as he continues to satiate your other, necessary hunger. 
His scent soothes and settles deep into your lungs, gaze trekking, absent, to the stretch of skin exposed beneath his unbuttoned shirt, from where you smell his perfume strongest. A sudden, stray thought of wanting to lap a path up against him, assaults your mind, sore body responding in feeble protest.  
A shadow falls upon you; Sylus’ thumb brushing, delicate, at the corner of your lips. “Eat well for now. Replenish your strength.” A kiss he nips onto your ear, you shiver at the muted stimulation. 
“Sylus—” 
“You’ll have your fill of us, as much as your heart desires, after.” He promises in decadent whispers.  
Your men, proving true to his words; the rest of your long night spent in seeking love against each other’s skins and within their embrace. 
Until they engrave proof of their existence — devotion and desire — scattered like scarlet jewels along the canvas of your body.
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End Notes: This is my first foray into writing this kind of relationship for my favorite media and I enjoyed each excruciating second of agonizing over positions and 🍆s. Although I adore a hot poly romance just as much as the next person (cough Him&Him&Him), it certainly isn’t something I’ll personally be trying again any time soon LOL.
Likes, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated, if you are so inclined, and never fail to put a smile on my face.
If you’d like to be added to my tag list for future stories, you can fill this quick form.
Visit my Master List
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no-144444 · 2 months ago
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Hiyaa there!! Can I pls request a scenario with Oscar. Reader never had her first kiss (and that makes her nervous) and they talk about it and he's being really patient and gentle with her like hugs her closer kisses her and it's really cute and fluffy😊 that would be adorable and it's so Oscar. Thank youu!!!
first kisses- o.piastri
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summary: being jack wolff's nanny is a pretty sick gig, especially when your old friend is an f1 driver and is interested in you...
pairing: oscar piastri x fem! reader
part one part two part three
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23 with no romantic prospects probably should’ve made you feel worse about yourself than it actually did. Yes, you occasionally wondered what it would be like to have someone to love and cherish, but you knew it wasn’t exactly realistic. You were extremely busy, like, all the time. Being Jack Wolff’s live-in nanny was quite the chore, despite him being only one child. Don’t get me wrong, he was well-behaved and sweet, but he still had a packed schedule of going to F1 races every now and then. When he wasn’t spending his weekends in the Mercedes garage, he was busy spending them in his own garage. Jack was in the beginning stages of his karting career, and he was damn good at it too. He loved the rush of trying to go as fast as he possibly could through every corner, every chicane, every straight. When he took his helmet off after a race and ran straight to you, it was one of the best feelings in the world. You loved Jack like a little brother, he adored you like a second mother. 
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“Why did we have to get up so early?” he yawned as you walked through the Harry Reid airport, just after landing in Las Vegas. Due to the fact that Jack was two public figures’ son, you two always got the craziest flight times to avoid crowds. 
You smiled, picking him up and placing him on his suitcase so he could sit while you pushed him. “Because your mom and dad missed you,” you explain. “And they want to see you as soon as possible.”
“I could’ve waited a little longer,” he mumbled. 
“Das ist nicht nett,” (that is not nice) you chuckled. “They miss you, and you haven’t exactly been very good at texting them back.” 
“But we could’ve had a race this weekend,” he whined. 
“We do, you’re just not racing in it,” you smirked as he rolled his eyes. All 7 year olds really were sassy. 
“Do you want me to ask your dad if we can go to a track for a little bit of the weekend?” you offered after watching his sad face.
The frown on his lips instantly turned into a smile. “Yes please! You’re the best!” 
The kid knew how to play you, you’d give him that. 
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It was 7am when you finally got checked into the hotel, and it was finally time for Jack to go see his parents. As much as he pretended he didn’t, most nights than not he would sneak into your bed and ask you to call one of them, so much so that you’d just made a time where you called each of them so he could talk. He had been getting better at the whole ‘long distant parenting’ but it still hurt him sometimes. Sometimes, he just wanted his dad, but his dad was 3,500km away at a race where their car was a piece of shit. 
You knocked on the door of their hotel room and it immediately opened to reveal a very excited Susie. “Jack!” she cheered, picking him up in his arms and hugging him tight as he giggled. Toto wrapped his arms around the both of them as they all reunited. 
You 4 have breakfast together where you popped the question about going to a kart track at some point over the weekend and they begrudgingly agreed, upset that they’d miss out on precious ‘Jack time’, but understanding of his want for more track time all the same. You had agreed to join them in the garage for the morning though, since seeing everyone again was nice. 
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“God, I’ve created a monster,” Toto joked as you both sat and watched Susie showing Jack around the garage. 
You chuckled. Jack was obsessed with anything to do with cars. He loved his kart more than anything, and h e couldn’t wait to move up into single seaters. He also had a mechanical engineer as a nanny, which probably didn’t help all that much. “We’ve created a monster. I’m the one teaching him about tire temp and degradation,” you chuckled as Toto just put his head in his hands jokingly.
“How are you?” he turned to you. “Any news?”
“Nothing new, just Jack’s news, I guess,” you shrugged. To be honest, you loved your life. You loved nannying Jack, you loved living in Monaco, you loved being at a kart track every single weekend, but you knew that wasn’t the typical experience of every young adult. 
Toto squinted his eyes. “How are your friends?” 
“They’re good, we went over to London the other week to go see them, since Jack had a race there on the weekend,” you explained, knowing what Toto was trying to say. “Don’t worry about me, I’m taking care of myself just fine.” 
He nodded. “We worry about you too,” he shrugged. “You’re like another daughter to us, we want you to be happy.”
You smiled. “I am.”
“And any boyfriends-?”
“Shut up!” you playfully hit him to stop the awkward conversation that would follow. “Enough Toto.”
“What?” He feigned innocence. “I can’t be interested in your dating life?”
“Nope,” you shook your head. “No you can’t.” 
“Y/n!” Jack shouted as he ran over to you. “Can we go to the track now please?” 
You looked to Toto, who nodded, then off you went to go grab Jack’s things and get into the car. When you pulled up to the track and got him stretched and warmed up, you watched as he circled the track while Toto and Susie went over strategies for the weekend in the cafe of the place. Toto had booked it out for Jack (mostly so he or you wouldn’t get papped, but also because that’s how Jack likes tracks when he’s practising), or so you thought. About 40 minutes into you being there, half of the McLaren garage showed up in papaya, apparently ready to race.
“Hey Toto,” Zak smiled. “Jack’s looking fast out there.”
“Hi Zak, what’re you doing here?” 
“Racing,” he chuckled. 
“We’re supposed to have it booked out for the day,” Toto argued. 
You came in as the two men started getting heated (which didn’t take much) and pulled them away from each other as Susie went outside to keep an eye on Jack. “What’s the issue?”
“We have the track booked out, and they want to race,” Toto scoffed. 
“We also have the track booked out,” Zak explained. “Also hi Y/n, nice to see you.”
“Nice to see you too,” you smiled at him. “So just let Jack go until they’re done getting ready, they do a session, Jack does a session, and so on. We need to get out of here at 3 anyway, and you and Susie are leaving earlier.” 
They both pondered the deal, feeling rather stupid for not being able to compromise on their own. 
“Sounds fair,” they both said at the same time, then they went back to their respective groups. 
You went out to tell Jack, who agreed quickly, wanting to watch what the F1 drivers would do in a kart. You two watched at the sidelines as they went around the track, Jack literally taking notes beside you as you watched one kart only. Oscar Piastri. 
Oscar and you had been friends in boarding school, and you’d always had this inkling he liked you, but he never acted on it before you left school, so nothing ever came of it. You had definitely liked him back though. He was so nice to you, so sweet, so funny. He was just… Oscar. 
As Jack got back on track, Oscar came over to sit with you. “Hey,” He smiled. 
“Hi,” you smiled back, scooching over so there would be more space for him. On track was Jack v Lando, and Jack was winning. 
“How are you?” he asked. 
“I’m good, thanks, you?”
“Great,” he smiled. “It’s really nice to see you again.”
“It’s really nice to see you again.”
“I thought I’d seen you around the paddock but then I realised how strange that sounded so I just chalked it up to my imagination, which is an even weirder thing but, yeah. It’s nice to know you’re not just a figment of my imagination,” he chuckled, awkward and shy, just how you remember him. 
You laughed. “Yeah, not a figment of your imagination, just Jack’s nanny.” 
“Cool,” he nodded. “He’s a good driver.”
“He’s very good,” you agreed. “Every weekend we’re at tracks, it’s madness.”
“Where are you living now?” he asked. 
“Monaco,” you explained. 
“Me too,” he smiled. “We should meet up sometime.”
“I’d like that,” you nodded, and you couldn’t help but feel the charged air between you two. 
“I’d like that too.”
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Asking for a night off was a nightmare. Both Susie and Toto had their noses stuck into your business no matter what, so they begged and pleaded to be told why, but you somehow kept your kind-of-date-not-really-a-date under wraps until you got to the restaurant. 
And it was nice. Oscar was just as sweet and funny as he was when you two first were friends. He even walked you back to the apartment, stopping before you went upstairs so as to not be seen by Toto or Susie. 
“I really had fun tonight,” he smiled, the cold Monaco air making his cheek red. 
“Me too,” you smiled. “It was really nice to catch up.”
He stepped closer, a nervous smile on his face. “Tonight was a date, right?”
“I-I’m- I don’t- I…” you trailed off, looking away from him as you both chuckled. 
“I’d like it to be,” he admitted. 
You nodded. “Me too.”
“So I can kiss you, right?” He smiled. 
Your heart slightly stopped, you’d never been kissed before. How did you even do it? Would he think you’re awful? Would this end the entire relationship?
“I don’t have to, I’d just… I’d like to,” he smiled understandingly. “If you’re not ready for that then that’s alright.”
“I just… I’ve never been kissed,” you admitted, deeply embarrassed. 
His jaw dropped. “You’ve never been kissed?” He asked despite himself. “Sorry, that sounded rude I-“
“It’s alright Oscar,” you shook your head. “I get what you mean.”
“No, I mean I’m just shocked, you’re so amazing and… yeah. It’s just surprising,” he chuckled. “I’m kind of honoured that I get to be the first.”
You chuckled. “Shut up.”
He chuckled. “Can I kiss you?”
You nodded, much too nervous to actually speak. He placed a hand on your cheek and leaned in, his lips softly meeting yours. 
And it felt good. It felt really good to kiss him. His other hand circled your waist as you tentatively placed your hands on either side of his face. When he pulled back you felt your heart stop once again. 
“You’re sure that was your first time?” He teased and you laughed. 
“Pretty sure,” you chuckled. 
“When can I see you again?” He asked, bashfully smiling.  
“I’ll be at the next race, or here,” you explained. “So whenever it works for you.”
“What about-”
“OSCAR?! You picked Oscar?!” Toto shouted, making both of you jump apart. “Absolutely not! Y/n get up here!” 
You sighed. “Text me about the date? Yeah?”
He nodded, laughing (trying to hide his terror of Toto) as he watched you go upstairs and start trying to explain to Toto.
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
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inklore · 7 months ago
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— the stranger / qimir x f!reader. the jedi have hidden many things from you about the dark side. like how good pleasure can feel and he is more than happy to show you. contents: dubcon, fingering, blood, death, light choking | wc: 881+
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Everyone’s dead. 
The other Jedi. 
Your master. 
Your friends.
Everyone’s dead, and you’re….you should be dead. Your blood should be pooling around your lifeless body, painting the green of the grass into something opaque and poetically mixing with the blood of your friends.
The friends you trained with. 
The friends you love. 
You should be lying lifelessly beside them. With honor and pride for fighting till the very end. That should have been your fate. Your ending. How this bloodbath too its close.
Not this. 
Not backed against a tree by the monster who killed those friends you love so much, making you feel….good. 
Good when you’re surrounded by death. 
Good when you can smell burning flesh with each shuddering inhale that inflates your shaking body, 
"It's really simple. So simple. The Jedi like to teach that it’s complex. Light, dark. As if the two can’t mingle, change. Warp. Meld together as one thing entirely. I can show you.” He had said as he stepped closer. Each syllable coming from his mouth matched his foot steps until he was right in front of you, and there was no longer anywhere to go. 
Your saber long gone. Destroyed in the chaos of blood and bodies. The safety of a weapon, of an escape, is gone when there’s no space left between the two of you. 
“It won’t hurt,” you flinched away from his fingers when he brushed them against your cheek. A twitch of a smirk at the corner of his mouth. “Quite the opposite. There is more to the darkness than your precious Jedi have taught you. It can heal. It can teach.” His eyes swept over your heaving chest, following a trail up the column of your neck to your mouth, making a chill prick the bottom of your spine. “It can please. Give you a type of pleasure not even the flow of light can bring to you. Let me show you.” 
Your jawbone ached when he grabbed it after you had shaken your head. After you all but spat in his face about how much of a monster he was. How he’s going to regret what he’s done. Making a stand for yourself with a voice as weak as you felt. 
“You Jedi, so closed off in your ways. Never open to something more enlightening. Accepting the other possibilities of being. Of feeling. How can you be all knowing?” His fingers moved from your jaw down to your neck, and the race of your heart accelerated when he wrapped his fist around it. The light pressure had been enough to make your body go into fight or flight. Your hands coming up to grip his wrist. “Let me teach you. I can feel it,” his thumb tapped your pulse point, “in your blood. You’re not like the others. You’re smarter. Be smart.” His head tilted further into your space, making his mouth inches from yours, “you might find by the end of it you want me to show you more.” 
That’s how you got to where you are now. 
The Strangers hand between your thighs, while the other still holds its grip on your neck. His jaw twitching with every moan you try to hold back. His grip on your neck tightening when you try to bite your lip to stop yourself from letting any noise slip out. Making your mouth pull open, his mouth following the same motion in a pleased smirk. 
You’d realized half way into this, half way through the haze, that you could have slipped loose. He’d given you a proper opening to do so. But you hadn’t. Had let yourself be tempted and consumed, willingly.
The fact only adds to the churning in your lower stomach.
The hand between your thigh making your legs shake, your body contorting against the tree. Rolling against his palm, your swollen clit rubbing along the heel of his hand as the two fingers inside of you curl and make you cry out into the night. 
Your mind is a mess of pleasure and darkness that not even closing your eyes helps you sift through. To bring you back to the light you’ve had inside of you since birth. To ground yourself enough to use the many skills of the force you’ve been taught. 
Each time your eyes close, the pleasure feels worse. More intense. Like the deadliest kind of hallucinogen—his voice, his fingers, his face are there. Images of his mouth on your neck, body, lips, replacing his hand, projected through your head like a fog engulfing your entire being. 
It completely engulfs you, and you almost forget what it is like not to be consumed by the allure of darkness. Making your body ultimately crave more.
You don’t know if it’s real or not when you feel his lips brush against your ear and he says, “things that are this reactive to something so minuscule compared to everything else that can be given to it were meant to feel this good.” You shake your head, the walls of your pussy fluttering, swelling around his fingers. “You’re about to come on my fingers, what’s more proof than that that your body seeks the truth. You were meant for all the things the darkness can give.” 
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emmyrosee · 2 months ago
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Rintaro feels the eyes plastered onto him.
He feels every bat of their lashes, every movement of their glances at his sleeping face, his subconscious acknowledges it, and slightly goes into fight or flight. He whines as he forces his heavy eyes to open-
Only to gasp in fear as his subconscious was right: there’s two eyes watching him, unblinking as they stare intently at him, their gaze puppyish and innocent.
He groans, “Sachie, Sachiko, please.” He presses the heel of his hand against his eye to rub them awake, “we talked about this; you can’t scare mommy and daddy awake like this.”
“We sowwy,” Sachie whimpers.
“Just wan’ some wata,” Sachiko finishes. The twins always had a knack for that- being able to finish each others thoughts and sentences.
At any other time, rintaro would be incredibly enamored by it.
Right now, however? Not so much.
Rintaro chuckles softly at their cuteness before looking to the sky, as if to ask for patience. Next to him, you whimper at all the noise, hiking the blankets higher. Rintaro smiles. “Okay, angels,” he says softly, swinging his legs from under the warmth of his covers. “I’ll get you some water.”
“T’ank you,” Sachie murmurs. Sachiko nods at her sister’s appreciation. Rintaro ruffles their hair and gets up from his bed, hands scratching his stomach as he bonelessly shambles to the kitchen. He grabs the cabinet door and opens it to retrieve two cups with lids, making sure they’re clean by sniffing them. He shrugs and makes a move to the fridge, pressing the cups against the water dispenser to fill them enough for the girls to get through the night.
He yawns as he fills the other, eyes growing heavier and heavier the longer he’s vertical, as if the sandman himself is throwing pebbles into his eyes.
He wastes no time in capping off the two cups and making his way back down the hallway to his little girls room, cocking a brow when their two tiny beds are empty.
He spins on his heel to make his way to his bedroom, and god, he’d be so mad if it wasn’t so cute.
Sachie and Sachiko, his precious terror twins, are curled up next to you in his spot, Sachie sucking on her thumb while Sachiko clings to your night shirt. The must’ve tugged you onto your side, because instead of your original position facing away from them, you’re curled against them, one of your arms strewn across them to cuddle them close. You’re drooling softly, and Rintaro can’t fathom the precious sight.
He yawns and plants the small cups on his nightstand before curling up behind Sachiko, trying to get comfortable in the all too small sliver of bed he can just barely fit on. His arm drapes over them both too, burying his face in Sachiko’s soft hair and trying his best to drift back asleep, despite the already deep cramping forming in his back for the uncomfortable position.
Not that he’d dare move them. Nor have it any other way.
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rowarn · 1 year ago
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Soo uhhh ahem what about König refusing to put his big ass fucking horse cock in you; just rubbing the length up and down between your pussy lips, feeling you get wetter and wetter as he rubs your clit with the head of his dick, never putting it in.
ughhh könig for sure sometimes just doesn't put it in.
gn!afab!reader, pussyjob <3
imagine he comes home late one night, he had a long fuckin day. his flight was delayed due to weather and he was exhausted and annoyed.
he gets himself cleaned up and crawls into bed and it's late — nearing on 4am when he finally get his head on the pillow. he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his arms.
even as he closes his eyes and tries to sleep, you start to squirm and press little kisses against him. he knows you're happy to have him home but he's so tired that he can't even open his eyes.
but you start pawing at him and he can feel your tits pressed against his chest and his cock starts to chin up against his thigh. that finally get his eyes open and he can see the wide-eyed way you stare up at him.
before you know it, you're on your back a stripped naked with him broad form looming above you.
you look so sweet and precious, spread out all for him, wet and needy with the way you grope and squeeze your own tits.
"please, want your cock," you beg him, reaching down to grip the base of him, trying to prod the tip into your entrance.
but he bats your hand away and clicks his tongue.
"you know better, liebling," he chastises, "you don't get my cock without prep."
"then do it," you whine, so damn greedy that it makes his heavy length twitch.
"not tonight, little one," he coos, scooting himself forward so his cock rests against your folds.
you whimper in disappointment but it's drowned out by the little gasp when he rocks his hips, thick girth splitting your sticky folds apart, allowing him to stroke over your drooling entrance and hardened clit.
all argument is lost on you as your head falls back against the pillow, keeping your legs nice and spread for him to hump his cock against you. he wraps his hand around himself and meanly taps the head against your little clit, smirking when the action makes your legs twitch.
you're getting wetter and wetter, the sticky, wet clicking sounds of him grinding against you.
your breathing picks up and you're once again groping your own tits, pinching your nipples and moaning so sweetly for him.
"könig, i want your cock so bad," you complain again, tho it has no heat as you moan when he strokes perfectly over your clit again.
"i know, liebling," he pants, "you will have me tomorrow. tonight, just be good and take what i give you."
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itsjusthockey · 1 year ago
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Hughes Your Daddy? - Jack Hughes
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hahahaha finally
enjoy
request
If I get 10+ comments/asks ill make a part 2
Yes, that's me bribing you, I want more interactions
w.c: 3,007 (credit to gif maker) (don’t steal my work)
Pt.2
The last few weeks of college are the worst weeks of a student's life. There’s nothing but studying, finals, and pure hell. Yet, when Ellen Hughes calls and tells you to get on a flight to Vancouver to be present at the Hughes Bowl, you fucking get on a flight to Vancouver.
The flight itself is terrific; you study a bit of your flashcards, drink some hot cocoa, and even get in a solid half-hour nap. You honestly feel a little sad when the intercoms go off, and they announce your descent into Canada.
The sadness washes away quickly when you clear the clouds and realize how excited you are. This trip, tomorrow’s game, is a very, very special event. Each Hughes brother will be playing on the ice tomorrow night, and you’ll be sitting, as requested, in the Hughes box overlooking it all.
As soon as the 737 touches down, you’re quick to switch your phone off airplane mode. You appreciated the few hours of bliss without endless notifications, but life has to go on. As soon as the iPhone gets service, a flood of messages rolls through. One from Ellen, to which you respond. Two from Quinn, which you answer. And 36 messages from Jack, which you ignore.
You should respond, and you will, but first, you have to get off the plane and find your favorite chauffeur.
Without further delay, you exit the plane, grabbing your carry-on and swinging your backpack over your shoulders. You smile at the few flight attendants on the way out and throw an extra thank you to the woman who gave you some extra cookies when she saw your flashcards.
The Vancouver airport is bustling, and you can’t help but feel the positive vibes radiating from the space. The entire airport is decorated for Christmas, and you’re reminded why it’s ranked one of the best airports in North America.
You make your way to the baggage claim, checking your phone to ensure you’re heading toward the right spot. You are, and while you’re walking, you pass all the cute little shops. You see a couple of little knickknacks, and you make a mental note to pick up something on your flight back. Now, however, you must focus.
The baggage claim area is pretty full, and you’re dodging people left and right. You’re unsure in the sea of people where Quinn might be hiding until you hear your name shouted from somewhere to your left. You turn your body, and there he is, waving a bit and standing with a small smile.
“Oh my god, is that Quinn Hughes?” You say in mock shock as you get within his earshot. “The newest captain of the Canucks and Vancouver's most precious gem?”
He rolls his eyes back as far as he can when you approach, but nonetheless, he pulls you in for a hug.
“Please stop.” He groans out as your part and takes your carry-on from you.
“Never.” You smile as he leads you out of the airport.
It takes mere minutes to get to the car, and you both catch up about whatever. It’s been months since you’ve seen Quinn, and whenever you’re with him, you’re reminded why he might be your favorite besides Ellen and Jim, of course.
As soon as you are settled into the passenger of Quinn’s car, he reaches back behind him and pulls out a small gift bag.
“Here, before I forget.”
You give him a questioning look, and he just gives you a slight smirk.
“Just open it. It’s more of a gift to everyone else.”
You squint your eyes a bit suspiciously but pull the tissue paper from the bag. As soon as you do, you see the familiar blue and white colors, and a laugh burst from your lips.
“Oh my god.” You shriek out, laughing, pulling the Canucks jersey from the bag.
You both immediately start laughing, and you can hardly contain yourself.
“Of course, you don’t have to wear it for the game.” Quinn says. “but he’s gonna flip if he sees you wearing it when they get here.”
You scan the Jersey and agree with the boy next to you. Your boyfriend is very possessive when it comes to jerseys, and he hates everything that isn’t red, black, or white and doesn’t have Hughes 86 plastered on the back.
“Oh, this is gold, Quinn.” You say, tucking the jersey back in as Quinn moves the car out of the lot.
“Ma and I thought so, too. She said it might humble him for the night.”
Speaking of humbling your boyfriend, you reach for your phone and go to text him back. You scan the many messages and roll your eyes at a few. Most of them are him just wanting attention, but the last one catches your eye.
we’re 2 hours behind ur flight. No fun or smiling before I get there
You read the text allowed to Quinn, who rolls his eyes at the statement, and you’re quick to shoot a response back, telling Jack that it’s too late and you’re having the best time ever.
————————-
As soon as you step through Quinn’s front door, you hear a happy yell, and Ellen is pulling you in for a long-awaited hug. You practically melt as she squishes you, and the happiest of laughs exits her.
“Oh, my sweet girl, I’m so happy this worked out.” She says to you, pulling back just enough to look at your smiling face.
You look behind her as Jim is standing nearby, waiting his turn. You give Ellen one less squeeze and then turn to the original Hughes and give him a big hug.
“Hey, kiddo,” He says. “Glad you’re here.”
As soon as you say your hellos, you move to get your stuff settled into your room. As quickly as you can, you throw your stuff down and pull on the New Jersey, making your way back out to the kitchen.
As soon as you enter, Jim laughs, and Ellen raises her hands to her mouth.
“Oh, Jack is gonna hate it.” She turns to Quinn and laughs, using him to steady her.
“Oh, we know.” You say, high-fiving Quinn as you grab a cup of some water.
As soon as you get your water, you all settle into the living room, and questions are flying left and right. You talk about school, work, and whatever else comes to mind about the time you’ve spent away from them. They hang onto every word, and you can’t help but smile. You’ve always been close to Jack's family, but when the one-year mark passed, it’s like they fully accepted you as one of them. Now, almost two years in, Ellen and Jim treat you like the daughter they never had, and they tell you often how much more they like you than any of their sons. You always laugh, but you know deep down that you are special to them. And that fact alone makes you consider yourself one of the luckiest girls.
“They just landed,” Quinn announces. “Almost showtime.”
Ellen winks at you from her space on the couch, and you settle deeper into the comfortable space, counting down the seconds until your boyfriend walks through the door.
—————————-
About half an hour later, you hear loud commotion as the door swings open and Jack and Luke enter the building. It takes less than three seconds for Jack to yell.
“Where is she?”
You laugh at him and yell back from the living room. “I’m in here.”
In mere seconds, Jack is in the room, making a beeline toward you. It’s the first time you’ve seen him in a month, and you won’t lie; he looks pretty good.
You make your move and step off the couch, going to hug him, but he halts in his place a few feet away, giving you a once-over.
“Get that shit off you.”
As soon as that leaves his mouth, everyone busts out laughing, and Jack gives you a less-than-impressed look. You feel a bit bad, so you give him a small smile and lift the jersey off your frame, revealing a Devils t-shirt underneath.
As soon as you throw the jersey away, he takes two long strides and engulfs you in a hug. You thought that nothing could beat Ellen’s hug, but Jack's grip nearly breaks your back.
You pull away after a second and pry him off of you. You love him more than anything, but you’re not about to show massive amounts of PDA in front of his parents, who are sitting a few feet away.
He gets this because he lets you go and gives his parents and brother a quick greeting, then leads you away from the living room. Everyone allows it to happen, and you find yourself in the privacy of the bedroom.
“You’re funny, but you better have my jersey for tomorrow night.”
You let out a small laugh and cross the room again, linking your hand behind his head and pulling him closer to you. His hands find home on your waist, and his fingertips dip under your shirt a bit, gently squeezing.
“I promise, J,” you grin. “I’ll do my best to show support to the losing team.”
He releases a soft gasp and gives you a slight look of betrayal.
“Losing team?”
Your grin goes even wider. “Check that stats, bud. You’re in a bit of a losing streak.”
He narrows his eyes a bit, and with one quick motion, he grabs your frame and tosses you on the bed. He enters attack mode, lays his entire weight on you, and begins grabbing at your sides. You, of course, go into defense mode and fight to push him off. You fight for power for a minute before you pull your defining move. He gets close, too close, and you give him your best doe eyes. The second he catches your stare, he folds, and he puts himself at your mercy.
For the first time in a hot minute, you pull him to meet you; the second his lips are on you, you implode. It’s been too long, and there is nothing more comforting and familiar than the boy lying nearly on top of you. You kiss him for a minute, your lips molding perfectly together before you pull away, gently patting his face.
“I think your family would like to see you.”
You push him away again as he rolls his eyes.
“I see them enough.”
He goes back to try to kiss you, but you push him away, putting a finger to his lips and shaking your head.
“Come on.”
He lets out an annoyed huff and removes himself from the bed, pulling you up along with him. You make your way back to the family room and laugh yourself into the family events.
Soon, you’re all playing board games, and you find out very quickly reminded about how sore of a loser your boyfriend is. You play board games cards, and when it gets late enough in the night, you all make your way to the living room for a movie.
You watch something light-hearted, and you can’t help but feel bliss as you’re tucked into Jack's side, surrounded by the entirety of the Hughes family. It’s a nice moment, and it’s the times like this that have you thankful you’ve stuck with the boy at your side.
——————
Before the sun rises, Jack's alarm blares next to you, and you can only groan at the noise. Alarms are truly nothing but an escape from bliss, and you wish you could stay forever in this little bubble. You’re warm comfy, and you don’t mind the boy you’re cuddled next to.
But alas, he is a slave to hockey, and he presses a quick kiss to your lips and swings himself out of bed. You follow a few minutes later, moving at a sloth pace. Instead of getting fully ready, you make your way downstairs to where the smell of bacon is wafting through the house. You’re almost giddy as you see Ellen and Quinn making breakfast, and you get even happier when Ellen places a steaming mug of coffee in front of you.
“You’re an angel, thank you.”
She gives you a big smile and pours another cup for herself. As soon as you catch the time, you offer to take Quinn’s place with the cooking, to which he gladly accepts and runs off to shower and get ready for the big game.
As soon as all the Hughes boys are out of earshot, you get down to business.
“I’ll raise to fifty on the Devs.”
Jim scoffs at your bet. “I love ‘em, but I disagree. Offense has been a bit sloppy. I’ll raise to a hundred on the Nucks.”
You quirk your eyebrow, then turn to the Queen, who seems to be pondering.
“I’m sorry (Y/N), but I think I’m gonna say Nucks too.”
You let out a soft groan but hold your ground.
“Alright. Final bet is a hundred. Winner takes all.
You all shake hands, sealing the deal.
As if you weren’t up to gambling, you act as naturally as possible as the three boys enter the kitchen. Each one is clad in a suit, and it warms your heart to see them all together. They look adorable, and you can’t help but laugh when Ellen demands a picture. They oblige, but like every other photo they take, it slightly looks like they’re being held at gunpoint. But you win some, you lose some.
Eventually, you’re all fed, happy, and once another alarm goes off, you know it’s time. You say your goodbyes to the boys, wishing them the best of luck. You hug Quinn, do your secret handshake with Luke, and press a quick kiss to Jack's lips.
Once you finish, they say their goodbyes to their parents and make their way toward the door, but they don’t get far before Jack pulls you toward him one last time.
“You ready to watch me destroy Quinn?” He teases.
You roll your eyes, pushing him away with a laugh. Nonetheless, you give him one last peck, swat his ass, and yell one final encouragement as he heads out the door.
“Don’t embarrass me!”
He flips you the bird as he gets into Quinn’s vehicle, and you smile and give him one back as you head back into the house.
You sit back down to finish talking with the parents l, and time ticks by faster than you’d like. Soon enough, it’s time to get ready, and you throw on your devil's jersey. You say a little prayer and hope they all do good. Things like this don’t happen often, and you hope it’s simply a good game.
———————
You smiled as wide as you could as the three Hughes brothers posed for a couple of pictures. You could see the distaste on all their faces, but they did it anyway.
Once they do the appropriate media, the game begins, and you’re sitting on the edge of your seat. It’s a good game, no, a great game. Soon, the first period is almost over, but not before your boyfriend has to remind everyone who he is, and he scores a goal.
It’s known that the Hughes parents don’t show much emotion at the games, and even more so when it’s their sons playing on opposite teams. So you control yourself, but you don’t miss when Ellen squeezes your hand.
The game continues, and it’s a nail-biter. Each minute you watch, you get more and more tense. Maybe it’s because you’re just nervous, or perhaps it’s the fact you have a hundred bucks on the line. But either way, you pray the clock ticks faster.
It doesn’t, but once Luke scores, you can’t help but start to think that this might be the end of a losing streak. You laugh on the inside because, of course, all it takes is a little brother rivalry to get the Devils back into motion.
———————
When the clock hits zero, and the Devils win, you practically die in your seat. You’re so thrilled for Jack and Luke, but a small part of you is a bit depressed for Quinn. But you know, if anyone can handle a loss like this, it’s the eldest Hughes, so you’re not too worried. Instead, you focus on your boyfriend, who, even from the box, looks the happiest he’s been in a while. He was given the title of the first star of the game, and you absolutely love it when he’s like this. You know he’s going to be in one of those unstoppable moods. You love it, but he can be a cocky little shit, and you know he’s going to be almost insufferable. You’ll take it, though, and embrace every part of it.
A few minutes later, the area starts clearing, and you’re all getting ready to leave the box, but you almost forget what is happening when Jim slides you a crisp hundred-dollar bill and winks at you.
“Jack really pulls out the stops when you’re at a game.”
You let a blush creep onto your face as you take the bill. You’d be lying if you said that you felt bad. This isn’t the first game you’ve bet on against Jim, and it certainly won’t be the last.
“Alright, you two gamblers, let’s go see the boys, shall we?”
Ellen leads the three of you down to where you’ll see the men of the hour. You feel the happiest you’ve felt in a while as you follow behind them, and when you get close enough, you can hear your boyfriend laugh from a short distance. Your heart skips the noise, and as soon as he spots you from across the room, he moves as fast as lightning to get to you.
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bunny-jpeg · 6 months ago
Note
Hiii can I please have a profiteroles with a side of Martini and juice served by Charles Leclerc
bakery menu
want to order something? check out the menu! there are all kinds of things on it for your liking! these delicious items are waiting for you! if you want to submit for an order outside of formula one, please do! as for this, i feel so bad that i haven't written enough charles! charles is who got me into f1 originally, so to not write him a lot feels so weird! (the verstappen brain rot is real)! as for this, i love a good mafia au.
profiteroles ("come away with me. for a week, together. anywhere you want, we'll go.") + martini (mafia au) + juice (cockwarming) served by charles leclerc (formula one)!
cw: smut/pwp, mafia au, mafia boss!charles, cockwarming, clingy!charles, breast play/worship, college student!reader, devoted!charles
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you often found those mafia romance novels that were sold in the grocery stores rather amusing. the cheesy covers and titles, the dumb plots and the over exaggeration of characters. it was all very.. funny.
mostly because you had nabbed yourself your own mafia lover. and while he was one of the most dangerous men in monaco. around you he was a huge suck-up.
while in public he was smiles and a sharp eye. behind the scenes he was vicious and scary. but, when it was just the two of you alone in the mansion you called home. charles leclerc, was mafia prince of monaco, wanted nothing more than to feel the soft flesh of his lover between his calloused hands.
and love you like the precious gem you were.
he had come from a week in the netherlands. it was always nice to see his long time friend, you knew business was talked about, but you tried not to pry too deeply. charles tried to keep your name and face out of that line of work, the last thing he needed was his princess to have a price of her head.
for all everyone knew, you were a simple university student in one of the most beautiful places on earth. he had arrived home and beckoned for you to join him in the shower.
you kissed his bronzed skin, you chuckled when he returned the kisses. even brushing his lips across each of your fingers like a quiet worship.
he noticed the bandage on your finger and held your hand up to you. he tilted his head to the side like a puppy as he asked, "what's this, what happened?" his voice tinged with concern.
you chuckled, "i was chopping onions a few days ago and i nicked my finger. trust me, it was nothing serious. just keeping it covered to heal." you smiled at him.
he nodded and kissed your fingers, "you have to be careful, mon amor. i can't have you getting hurt when i'm not here." he kissed the bandage softly.
once your shower was done, you helped dry him off before you took him to the bed to get comfortable. you were both naked and curled up in bed together. you chose a movie to put on in the background while you became reacquainted with his body and him with yours.
you pressed your palm against his and noticed the difference in your hand sizes, "what was holland like, it's been so long since i've been there."
he chuckled, "same old, same old, mon amor. max had asked about you, he always asks about you. i told him to back off, he cold have any woman he wanted. but you are mine."
you giggled, "he's probably saying it to get under your skin." while you flew under the radar most of the time, at least with forces that could hurt you. but close friends of the family knew of you. like max verstappen, a close ally of charles. as a result the dutchman knew to mess with charles he simply had to bring you up.
it was like the time he mailed you a nijntje plush and charles was almost on the next flight to utrecht to kick his ass. in reality you had asked max to do that for you because you wouldn't be able to get it in monaco. (charles just forgot).
your lover's hands roamed your body and his cock twitched between his legs. he said softly, "i need you. i've needed you all week. you were all i could think of." his jaw tensed, "you drive me mad, mon amor. you're all i ever want."
you got him seated upright against the headboard and you straddled his waist. with a little help you sank down on his cock, but you didn't ride him. instead you warmed his cock as you straddled him. it slipped in with ease and the feeling made him shudder.
he wrapped those strong arms around you and held you. you got comfortable against his chest and kissed at the side of his neck. he melted into your touch, loving the feeling of you around him.
"i thought about you every moment i was away." he dipped his head towards your chest, he peppered kisses along the soft flesh, "i wondered if you were eating, sleeping, if you were going to classes." he sighed.
"i know, my dear." you said as you held him close to your chest and combed your fingers through his dark hair, "you were constantly texting me. i'm sorry that i couldn't text you during my lecture, you know all about that professor."
he sighed, "i could kill him."
you pulled away further and wagged your finger at him, "don't you care, leclerc. he is one of the best professors in the region." and he whined, you let him press himself back to your chest.
you let out a small noise when he mouth captured your left nipple. his hands explored your bare back, yearning for the closeness. his cock was heavy inside of you and you played with his hair.
the movie played on in the background, the light from the television cascaded you in a soft glow. you rolled your hips a little to give him a bit of friction, which made a shiver run up his spine.
"i love you." he said.
"i love you too." you yanked on his hair a little bit and he moaned with your nipple in your mouth. he played with your breasts, cupping them in his hands.
oh lord, you were perfect. those beautiful eyes looked to you and you smiled down at him. you leaned in and kissed his forehead. you rolled your hips a little more and let the feeling wash over both of you.
to just be so softly intimate felt nice, after time apart from one another. to feel close to your mafia boyfriend, felt good. he left a few marks across your soft breasts which only made you clench around his cock.
"you're my whole world, mon amor. to the ends of the earth, i love you."
"and i love you, charles." it wasn't the easiest thing being in love with someone so powerful. but the way he looked at you, the way he wore his heart on his sleeve for you. all the risks seemed to fade away, you loved him and he loved you.
you two continued to kiss once more, you knew that he was getting hot all over. his skin felt electric as you pressed your hands on his chest. you could feel his racing heartbeat as the two of you made out.
he looked up at you as you held his face, you rubbed the scar on his cheek, you could see the hearts in his eyes. "my world." he said.
"my universe."
he chuckled, "you always have to one-up me, huh?" he kissed your neck softly as felt the shudder of pleasure through his body. he knew he was close, he held onto you while the movie played and softly thrusted up into you. he couldn't handle it anymore. he kissed at your collarbones and groaned against your warm skin.
"i love you."
"and i love you more, forever. you are mine until the sun swallows the earth whole." he promised. he just wanted to be smothered by you, to hold onto you tightly. to love you with all of his heart.
he was in heaven, heaven was you. you were the angel that whatever god sent down to him. and he'd worship the ground you walked on until the ends of the earth. you were his soul, his beating heart.
not even the mafia lifestyle could pull the love he had for you out of him. you were the reason why he never got cold.
he shuddered as orgasm took over. then it ended with you on your back and him looming over you. those eyes of his transfixed you as he panted heavily. he pulled you in for a kiss, "i love feeling close to you." he said quietly. he looked down at you, his cock still buried in your at the hilt, the movie droned in the background. he kissed your jaw, "come away with me. for a week, together. anywhere you want, we'll go."
you smiled at him and draped your arms around him. you yearned for your own orgasm, you leaned up and kissed him on the lips, "i'd like to go back home."
"home? i thought i was your home." he pressed himself against you, his mind clearing up from the orgasm.
"i mean my childhood home." you played with his hair, "you've shown me your world, now i want to show you mine. it might not be as extravagant as monaco, but.... i want to make memories with you there."
he perked up at the thought. you wanted to show him your life. the life you had before you met. he broke out into a grin and wrapped his strong arms around you. he kissed at you face and said, "of course. i would love to meet your family, see your home. thank you! thank you!"
you smiled and kissed him once more. even with his cock still snugly inside of you. it was cute to see him light up. you've seen the headlines and his face in the paper. you've seen what he's capable of. but when he was with you, he was nothing more than a sweet puppy.
you kissed him once more before you shifted and asked, "now why don't you make me cum before we start to make plans, handsome?" you giggled as you pulled him in for a kiss once more.
those romance novels were silly, because if they were writing mafia bosses the way that your beloved charles was, the stories would be a lot less steamy and a lot more clingy. <3
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tpwk-formula1 · 2 months ago
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Biggest Fan - CS55
A/N - I decided to turn the Biggest Fan SMAU I did for Charles last week into a mini series where I use the same idea but with a different driver and different occupations. Please vote at the end of the chapter!
Carlos Sainz x Author! reader
Face Claim: Alex Aster
Carlos Sainz Insta Story
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Youruser: How did you come into the office without me noticing?!
carlossainz55: you were quite focused
landonorris: I better get my copy! I've been itching to read
carlossainz55: Didn't even realize you knew how to read landonorris: you fucking muppet
user1: She's literally the cutest! I can't wait to read her new book!
user2: I just know this book is gonna be amazing!
charlesleclerc: Alex says she absolutely loves the book and thank you so much for an early copy
carlossainz55: I just told her and she squealed. She said Alex is her new favorite person
Twitter
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Youruser Insta Story
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user10: I loved meeting you! You are one of the sweetest humans ever!
youruser: thank you for coming out and supporting!
user11: I wanted to go so bad... fuck living in the US
carlossainz55: I loved being there! Who knew so many people loved you almost as much as me
youruser: I guess I'm irresistible
user12: I just finished and let me just say... Absolutely amazing book! Your best one yet
landonorris: I didn't realize how good your book would be! Made the flight back home after the race go by so fast!
Carlos Insta Story
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youruser: Thank you for being there with me every step of the way
carlossainz55: I wouldn't miss your first book signing for the world!
user13: She's so beautiful in person! I took wouldn't be quiet about dating her!
charlesleclerc: Can't believe you wouldn't let us come!
carlossainz55: I wasn't gonna take away from her moment! Bad enough people knew who I was. I didn't need you and Lando there too charlesleclerc: No I fully understand! Just wish we could support her without it being a distraction
user14: One of her best books yet!
Twitter
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Carlos Insta
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Liked by youruser, charlesleclerc, yourbff, and 2,319,942 others
carlossainz55 My favorite game everytime we travel is seeing how many countries sell my girl's books!
tagged youruser
youruser I still can't believe how many places we visit actually have my books on shelves!
user20 Wait that's actually so precious because you guys travel so much and to take time to look through shops and find her books is the sweetest
user21 "my girl"
charlesleclerc You'd be surprised with how excited they both get when they find one of her books!
landonorris Honestly the most fun part of traveling with you two is going into random book shops and looking for Y/N L/N books
user22 I remember when I first got into reading I didn't think I'd find your books in my book shop but was so pleasantly surprised how many shops sell your amazing writing!
user23 literally learned how to read English so I could enjoy her books!
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Youruser Insta Story
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carlossainz55 you deserve all the good things in the world
user24 I can't believe I was able to get my hands on a signed copy! Stayed up so late to make sure it was in my cart the second it dropped
landnorris so I may have slept through my alarm... if I apply pay you $1,000 will you bring a signed copy to me... PLEASE
youruser why do I feel like this is for your secret girlfriend landnorris YOUR HER FAVORITE AUTHOR OKAY! youruser No money but I'll sign her copy next time we're at a race together
user25 I tried so hard! Didn't realize how dedicated your fans would be
youruser send me an address and I'll send you a surprise! user25 OMG WHAT? Thank you so much!
user26 Didn't get a signed copy online because I get to get my copy signed when I see you in 2 weeks! Can't believe the paddock is letting you hold a mini signing... literally so cute
your insta
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Liked by carlossainz55, sabrinacarpenter, and 1,890,092 others
youruser Mexico City you have been so beautiful! A Carlos win and a book signing in the Paddock? How can my weekend get any better
tagged carlossainz55
user27 Stop I know this weekend has been the best time for Y/N
user28 What an amazing time to be alive as a Y/NCarlos fan
landonorris I knew your books were a big deal but I'm stunned with how long the line was
charlesleclerc was so happy to finally be able to come to a book signing!
user29 the way Charles said it was his first book signing with Y/N because Carlos doesn't let any of the drivers come because he wants to make sure all attention is on her
user30 wait is this true? That's so cute
carlossainz55 It was so fun to see you in your element at my work
youruser I loved every moment of this weekend
The End
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keravnous · 2 years ago
Text
bathroom b!tch; tangerine/fem!reader (smut; 18+)
part two | part three | part four
playlist: train quickie with tangerine
Tangerine meets you in one of the bathrooms on the bullet train. He just wants to clean up after his tussle with Ladybug and get rid of the blood, but he could use you to blow off some steam as well. You know: he has to take it if he sees it.
word count: 5,9k
warnings: mirror sex, bathroom sex, semi public, fingering, oral (female receiving), blood (it's tangerine's), squirting, dry humping, rather rough sex, unprotected sex, light choking, confined spaces, dirty talk, name calling, kinda a quickie?, tangerine's a little rude but surprisingly gentle too idk he's just like that, he just needs to fuck the adrenaline outta himself, i have very strong feelings about this angry man
title is from the song of the same name, bathroom bitch by holychild
also thank you v for a) helping me out with Japanese and b) by telling me what being a passenger on a bullet train feels like
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You knew it was a bad idea.
Starring at yourself in the impressively clean mirror of the small bathroom, you try your best to hold back any fresh tears.
You knew that a long-distance relationship wouldn't work. You fucking knew it and yet you accepted your fiancés pleas to Just try it. Maybe, it indeed would've worked out if he wasn't fucking his bloody secretary.
You regret leaving London. You miss your home.
You're not even that heartbroken, you just feel exhausted, like you wasted an awful lot of time.
You take a long, good look at yourself. Bloodshot eyes and a sad hue resting over your pupils, turning the colour dark and deep. The dress, that you bought for your anniversary brunch – a surprise, quite as much as the one he gave you, when you walked in on him, balls deep in his secretary – now looks oddly strange, out of place on you. You feel overdressed and ashamed, foolish.
But there’s something else, too: the loneliness that followed suite after your screaming, after fighting with him - after breaking up with him. It's been there since you boarded the train to Nagoya but now it rolls over you like a wave of-
Thump, thump.
"What the fuck", you mutter, taking a ragged breath, before yelling out, "Occupied!"
You just want to be left at fucking peace, not being watched by other passengers as you're bawling your eyes out. All you want is to get off that train and burn some of that fucker’s money on a spontaneous vacation. All you want is for the remaining days in Japan to be good ones.
Another sharp knock follows. This one rattles the door.
It takes a moment for you to scramble for the right words, the ones you have picked up when visiting your fiancé before. "Shiyouchu!"
Another knock. And another.
Motherfucker.
You clench your teeth - saying goodbye to the precious moments of crying in silence for the year you've lost to the most useless relationship of all fucking mankind - and wipe away the wetness below your eyes to open the door. "I said-"
Oh.
Oh shit.
There's a very handsome man waiting outside the door. He is towering over you, impatience plastered on his face and seeping through his every movement, with the way he's leaning against the door frame.
He's hot.
Also, he's dripping in blood.
His light blue shirt, once crisp and clean, is now disshelved and just as stained as his expensive looking dark-blue vest.
"Jesus, fuck, are you alright?", you blurt out.
The man's raising an eyebrow. "Could be asking you the same, love. Now, would you please get the fuck outta there."
He's moving towards you, closing in the last few inches separating the two of you. Your gaze is focused on the nasty cut on his arm.
"You're bleeding", you say dumbly.
His eyes shoot up at you and for a split-second you feel like you are face to face with a predator. The anxiety, that the blood and his rude behaviour sparked in your chest, sends adrenaline pumping through your veins and has the muscles your legs preparing for fight or flight. He blinks.
"I know", he says and his lips curl up to something, that you're convinced is supposed to be a smile, "Now, if ya'd be so kind?"
He gestures behind you, towards the empty bathroom.
"No?", you say, voice shooting up a little, which immediately has him cautiously throwing a glance down the hall to his right, "No, I won't! You need help, how the fuck -- what the fuck happened?"
"You're starting to really get on my fuckin’ tits, pretty thing. Would y'just let me the fuck inside?", he growls, tilting his head towards you. His tone has the hairs on your arms rising, as he is starring you into the ground.
You back up, colliding unpleasantly with the doorframe, that nearly drills itself into your left shoulder.
"Thank you, Lady", he's squeezing past you and then turns around again, giving you a quick one-over. You are unable to move, mesmerized by the way he's looking at you.
The corners of his mouth tilt up again and one of his hands, a little sticky and red with his own blood, comes up to his face, straightening his moustache, as his gaze runs over your body once more. You should leave, you should run - clearly, something is awfully and so not right but you just can't, being glued to the spot by his eyes.
It shouldn't make your loins grow hot, but you can't help it. You feel your belly tingle, shooting sparks down down down between your legs. He is very attractive and the aura of pure fucking danger that wafts around him doesn’t do what it normally should do – instead, it pulls you in. Oh, aren’t you just fucked.
"What were y'saying about help, again?", the man murmurs, gaze locking with yours.
"Uuuh", it's a very stupid sound you make and his eyes spark up at that, lips giving room to flash some teeth, "I-I just said you look like you might need some help?"
"Well, maybe I do."
He licks his lower lip and you blink, gaze following the movement.
This is very stupid. This is risky, dangerous, and most likely something you are going to regret.
It's not only the situation, it's him, too. He seems dangerous. It's not only the blood, mind you. It’s the way he moves, how his eyes dart through the room, over your body. It’s the aggression in his voice that he’s trying to hide, cover up but ultimately fails, something that seeps through every pore of him.
But he's also just ridiculously hot, walking with his crotch first, heavy northern British accent swirling the words around his tongue and, fuck, it's mostly the way he's looking at you.
And you're just so fucking full of anger and grief and your life feels strangely directed and determined by your shitty-ass fiancé and there's so much rage and sadness -
You take a step into the bathroom and the door slides shut behind you.
"Good", he hums, "Because you do look, like you could also use some help."
The door locks behind you and take another step forward, approaching him. "You have no fucking idea", revenge sex is a very stupid concept but now, it seems very tempting. It's exciting and makes you feel oddly alive.
"Did'ya get dumped?", and you don't know why you trust him with that information but you can hear yourself say: "Cheated on. Fiancé of twelve months." There is a hand sneaking around your waist, pulling you in closer. You can smell him now, the blood on his skin and clothes, the heavy scent of his perfume – it’s warm and thick, vanilla and fruit, like an orange grove.
"Allow me the comment - that's one bloody stupid bastard."
You look up at him and blink. That man's insanely pretty and you swallow as he pulls you in even closer, your hand connecting with his chest. It is firm and warm and your fingers get a little sticky with the fresh blood on his shirt. They splay out, feeling the firm muscle flex beneath the expensive fabric.
"How much time d'we have, sugar?", he hums, runs his thumb across your lower lip.
"I have to get off in Nagoya."
"Gonna get you off alright now, sweetie", you roll your eyes at that and he chuckles, "Bit more than half'n hour I'd say. Think we can manage that?"
You nod while biting your lip, adrenaline thick and heavy in your veins, pumping your blood down south and making you wet wet wet, and he laughs at that, runs his tongue along his bright, bright teeth.
It's sheer excitement that has your belly tingle and you lock your eyes with his, the darkening blueish green pulling you in and then he leans down, locks his lips with yours.
They are soft and warm and his moustache tingles a little. You hum against his lips, one hand fisting his vest as the other sneaks up his muscular arm, runs over and through the blood, up up up next to the cut and comes a halt on his neck. The hand on your waist holds you close, fingers spread out delicately as he starts to feel you up.
His tongue darts out and licks over your lips and you gladly give him more room, parting your lips slightly. He's pushing in, licking into your mouth. You hum deep in your throat, pressing against him, tasting the cigarette smoke on his lips.
You can feel the bulge in his pants, his dick pressing hotly against your lower belly. It ignites your loins, pleasure shooting through your abdomen.
You moan into his mouth and he responds by pushing you back, heaving you up the small sink, deepening the kiss. Your back presses against the mirror as you clutch onto him, hand running up his neck and into his hair, slick with product and a little sticky with sweat. Your knees hit his hipbones and the man starts to roll his hips into yours, having his hard dick rubbing against your crotch and your eyelids flutter with the feeling. He's rock-hard and so so hot through his dress pants and you can't fucking wait to get to it.
He eventually breaks the kiss, breath ragged as his eyes roam over your face, hands feeling your thighs up. You decide that you need more of him and thus, your free hand roams over his chest, fingers making quick work of his vest. As soon as you pop the last button, he hastily tears it off of himself, throws it to the ground where it lands with a quiet thud.
"C'mon sweetheart, I know you clammin' to touch me", he says, voice deep and raspy and you do - like you're on fucking autopilot. Your hands dart out, roaming over his defined chest. He feels nice and firm and makes you want him more, want to feel all of him, all at once.
He hums quietly, as you open a few buttons of his shirt and run your hands over the sweaty, warm skin, through the dust of fine chest hair, making his chain rustle. He feels nice and it makes you want him.
The man looks up from your hands and you don't know what has come over you as your hand glides up further, cupping his neck, thumb on his jawline. "Fuck me", you breathe, "Fuck me 'til I can't walk."
He grins and leans in even closer, his clothed and hard dick pressing against your wet panties, as he's kissing a wet trail from your jaw to your ear. "Who would've thought - such a naugh'y lil'mouth on such a pretty woman."
You hook one leg around his waist, tugging lightly at the hair that's curling in his neck as he starts to suck on your neck. The slight pain ignites your lust, has arousal blooming and wetness pooling between your legs. You want to tell him to stop, before he marks you up for good as --
"Name's Tangerine", he suddenly rasps, as his tongue rubs over the spot he has been sucking on and you're pretty damn sure that he just gave you a hickey.
"Like the-"
"The fucking fruit, yeah. 'M gonna burst you more like something of a cherry, though", he rumbles, quietly laughing to himself with his fingers digging into your hips.
Your breath hitches in your throat as he presses himself flush against you - all firm muscles, perfume, and hot skin - tongue licking over your throat like the hot blade of a knife, dancing over your jaw.
It's most likely not his real name and that should really, really alert you. But it doesn't - instead you surrender yourself to him, letting your head fall back and parting your legs, inviting him in.
And the man -Tangerine - follows suite and shoves your dress up up up, runs his hands over your now exposed thighs. You lean forward a little, until your lips brush over his. "Name's Y/N", you whisper and his eyes glint a little at that, "Pleasure to meet you."
"Oh, you gon' be a fun one", he grins and you do too, before leaning in and kissing him again. He is less gentle now, keen on getting you hot, his kisses turn sloppy quickly, biting your lower lip and licking into your mouth until you lack air. The thumbs on your legs dive in deeper, until they connect with your crotch. And then, one of them gently runs over your soaked panties.
Tangerine breaks the kiss, wet lips brushing over the corner of your mouth, only to inhale sharply - keeps his cheeks puffed theatrically for a short moment, then exhales just as sharply, eyeing you up and down. "Jesus Christ, that pussy of yours s'fucking wet, innit?", he rumbles and two of his fingers run over the wet fabric once more, slowly starting to rub your clit.
You gasp, hips bucking a little and you watch the way his hand vanishes under the hem of your dress. "Fuck", you moan quietly as he quickly finds the spot that makes your thighs clench. He rubs you through your panties, soft lace turning wet wet wet and dampening his skin. Your mouth falls agape seeing his wrist twitching between your legs and the way he's looking down at it, a little mesmerized, makes your head swim. Then, he stops.
"Yeah, let's get those off", he mutters, more to himself than to you and then he's tugging at the straps of your panties, riiips the lace and tears them apart. "Oh-", you gasp unintelligently as he carelessly drops them to the ground and you really don't fucking mind at all.
It's the first time in a long time that you feel wanted, like someone's actually hungry, greedy for you. And it turns you on. A lot. It is like Tangerine has flipped a switch and you want him just as much as he seems to want you. And you want it now.
You blink at him through your lashes. "You gonna touch me now?"
"Easy, love", he chuckles, genuinely amused and then his fingers are slooowly creeping back over your legs, until his index finger finally touches your exposed cunt. The touch is cold, but not unpleasant and you suck in a sharp breath, one that hitches in your throat.
He watches you, as he runs it over your pussy, quickly joined by a second, digits running up and down, spreading your slick. You hum, pleasure building up in your abdomen and then, finally, his fingers return to your clit.
Slow, wide circles spread your lips apart, making you moan and throwing your head back in pleasure. His bracelet clinks as he quickly picks up a faster rhythm, keen on seeing you coming loose, circles growing smaller.
"Oh shit, yes that's fucking it", you can feel arousal building in your stomach, shooting through your body. Tangerine laughs under his breath and his lips are onto you again, licking and sucking over your straightened neck. You don't give a fuck anymore, the slight pain of him bruising your skin makes your hips buck and rolling against his digits.
"Such a good girl, ain't ya?, he groans against your neck and it sends shivers down your spine as you're moaning and gasping, nodding frantically.
Your body feels like it has been ignited, with the way his fingers rub your clit, teasing your pussy and then there's one finger circling your hole and fuck, you really fucking need it. You spread your legs farther and Tangerine puuushes in, sinks one rather cold finger in your hole, your hot hot skin meeting the cold gold of his ring.
Tangerine starts to fuck you slowly, finger pushing in and out of you, until you're loose enough to take a second one. His rings thrust against your hole every time he pushes them back inside and the sensation has you whining, his lips still glued to your neck, occasionally moving down down down to you cleavage, licking fat stripes over your warm, sweaty skin.
A flood of very good, very dangerous emotions has one of your hands abandoning the sink, instead running up his arm, splaying across his shoulder. You can feel the muscles working slightly beneath the light blue fabric, a little dampened by his sweat. "Fuck, you make me so hot, shit, that feels so good", you whimper quietly, gasping as his fingers push even deeper. It seems to kick Tangerine off, moustache grazing your skin as he’s picking up an even faster rhythm - rubbing, circling your clit faster, adding more pressure - obscene squelching sounds filling the air of the small bathroom. You moan as pleasure shoots up your spine, has you rocking on and against his fingers.
You can feel your walls clenching around his fingers, hole fluttering against the cold, golden rings and then --
He breaks from your throat and whistles lowly as fresh wetness pools around his fingers, your squirt dampening his golden bracelet and the cuff of his shirt.
Tangerine pulls his fingers out of you slowly, slick with your juices and looks at them for a few seconds, the way your wetness is glistening on his skin in the dim lights. He brings them up up up, gaze connecting with yours and then -
They go past his lips, as his tongue darts out and licks them clean. You blink - once, twice. "Fuck", you breathe, and he chuckles.
"You taste like a fuckin' dream, love", his hands push your legs further apart and before you know it, he sinks down to his knees. You blink at him, as he lifts the hem of your dress up, "Might wanna hold that f'me", and you do, pulling the fabric as high up as you can, exposing yourself to him further.
Tangerine tsks as he takes the sight in and you can feel your cheeks growing hot, burning red, as his fingers dance over your pussy.
"Don't ya just have the prettiest cunt?", he hums, running his fingers through your folds, "'M gonna fuck ya so good."
"Jesus, Tangerine", you huff out, legs shaking a little as his thumb carefully rubs over your clit.
Tangerine looks up at you, smirking a little and then he's leaning in, hands coming to rest on your thighs, forcing your legs apart. He's not breaking eye contact, keeps your gazes chained together, as he dives in and licks a long, fat stripe from your hole upwards to your clit.
You fucking mewl, as his moustache rubs over your sensitive skin, tongue circling your clit for a short moment. His eyes gleam up at you, watching your reaction as his tongue swipes down, over your folds to your hole, teasing it. It has your legs kicking a little and you grab the sink with both your hands, as your thighs give a quick shake.
You can hear him chuckle deep in his throat and it makes you hot hot hot all over, with the way his tongue crawls back up, lips grazing your cunt and then he's onto your clit once more, gently lapping at it, placing soft kisses on the sensitive skin.
A strangled noise escapes your throat as arousal rushes through your abdomen and up up up your whole body, has your chest heaving with a ragged breath and rolling your hips forward. It's so so good, but not enough - you just need more.
"Don't ya move, love", Tangerine rasps and one of his hands grabs your hips forcefully, dress sliding up to your navel as he's holding you in place. The other crawls up your lower leg and thigh, teasing your folds and then one finger presses against your hole, pushes in roughly.
You moan as he immediately starts to fuck you with it, pumping your wetness in and out of you with a rather merciless rhythm, keen on having you come for him, having you squirt once more.
His eyelids flutter, long and dark lashes against his pale skin as his tongue licks over your folds, tasting your wetness and taking your scent in. You're tasting so so sweet to him, like a fucking forbidden fruit that he's going to devour anyways, because he can and he will and because fuck the rules he had set himself for this job.
He closes his eyes as he pushes a second finger into you, pumping them in and out of you, while his tongue laps at your cunt, lips closing in around your folds, gently sucking. His fingers are fucking you fast now, pushing you further and further.
"Oh god", you gasp, one hand still holding your own weight, the other now fisting his hair, pulling it. It seems to spur him on, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder and placing wet, open-mouthed kisses on your cunt, gently nibbling at the soft skin as his finger pumps into you. It's even better than before, with his beard scratching you and his tongue and lips gliding over your cunt as if it were a riddle he's going to solve without his hands. The heel of your shoe digs into his back - desperate for any leverage, to just feel him - as you are nearing your release.
"Shit, fuck fuck fuck", your voice sounds strange in your ears, high-pitched and far far away, between the squelching sounds that his rapidly moving fingers pull out of your pussy, "I'm gonna-"
He hums and then, after a short moment, pulls his digits out of you and grabs your hips hard, holding you in place, not stopping his tongue from rubbing over your cunt hard.
It tips you over the edge, has you breaking loose. You gasp loudly, throwing your head back against the mirror, incoherent rambling leaving your lips as you come - riding your orgasm out on his face as he licks you through your orgasm, your hips bucking wildly with it.
As your orgasm rolls over you, you already know that this isn't over. Usually, you would be spent for now, calm and a little tired but right now - you're not at all, lust still rolling over you, fresh wetness pooling between your legs again. "Mhm, shit", you breathe, feet kicking a little as Tangerine's tongue continues to flick over your clit. You are still wet, already desperate for more, more of him.
All you can think about is his hard dick, that you've felt earlier pressing against your crotch and pure want tingles in your stomach. Tangerine's lips close in around your throbbing clit, overstimulation making your head swim.
"Please, fuck, please", your hip bucks against his iron grip that holds you steadily against the sink. Tangerine looks up at you again and let’s go of your clit with an obscene pop. His moustache is dampened by your wetness as he grins up at you. "Please please", he mocks your high-pitched whines and then smirks, "Wan'it that bad, love?"
"Need you - ah, fuck - inside me. Oh, shit", you whine, as your hole clenches around nothing, desperate for more than his fingers. You are so turned on by this stranger, lust crashing over your body like waves - you can feel its tingle in your chest, your legs, feeling your pussy desperate for another touch.
Tangerine blinks for a moment and you're sure, that you saw his eye twitch and then he, very dramatically, takes a deep breath, closes his eyes. "Shit, love, you make me feel all sorts o'things", he says quietly and then quickly gets up, wipes his lips with the back of his hand.
He leans in and his lips lock with yours again and you can taste yourself on his tongue, as he licks into your mouth, grinning against your lips, damp stache rubbing over your upper lip. He licks over it, groans deep in his throat, while his hands brush over your legs, before he commands, whispers against your lips: "Bend over the sink f'me.”
"What?", you blink, words not really reaching you through the lustful haze that has wrapped your brain in like cotton candy. All you can do is look at him, at this very handsome stranger with the very fake name and he has your head swimming, brain giving in and surrendering to lust once more.
You take the hand he offers you as he helps you down the sink, your legs a little wobbly. "Alright c'mon now, girl, don't keep me waitin'", Tangerine gives you a light pat on the cheek, rings barely connecting with your skin - a patronizing gesture that has your knees going ever weaker for a moment as you try to turn around, hands gripping the edges of the sink.
You watch him in the mirror, as he makes quick work of his belt and the fly of his trousers. As he pulls his dick out, your mouth waters. It's long and big and has just the right girth, a drop of precum glistening on its tip. You'd really like to suck that cock, like right motherfucking now.
Tangerine looks at you. "Got all hungry fo'it?", and you nod - breathing out Fuck yeah - arching your back for him, "Alright love, just a minute."
He spits in his hand and rubs the saliva over his dick, giving himself one, two strokes. You arch your back, keeping your eyes on him as he grabs your hips hard, lines himself up, head of his dick resting against your hole - all hot and hard - and then he finally, finally pushes himself in. The stretch is nice and has you squirming a little with the dull pain, excitement lighting your nerves up.
"Jesus Christ", his head falls forward a little, "You're so fuckin' tight."
He bottoms out, forcing himself in deep, holding still. You can feel his dick twitching inside of you, but he doesn't move and you can see his chest heaving, hear him grunt. His hand roams over your bare ass, shoving the dress even higher, until your back is partly exposed and his hand creeps around your body, over your stomach and under the dress, slips beneath your bra and cups one of your tits.
Tangerine squeezes it, feels you up and then pulls his dick back out only to quickly push himself back in. The sound that leaves your throat is nothing but desperate and your hand grips the sink harder, knuckles slowly turning white. His jaw is going a little slack as he rolls his hips into you, fucking you slowly.
"Ah shit", he groans, a deep and coarse sound, that makes you shiver, "Doesn't that just feel lovely?"
He watches the way his dick pumps into your pussy, eyebrows drawn together, lips slightly agape - until his gaze meets yours in the mirror once more and there it is - a shadow that dances over his eyes, turning the mesmerizing blue and green dark dark dark. One of his hands suddenly darts forward, rings glimmering in the dim light, only to roughly grab your chin, forcefully holding your head in place. It hurts a little, but the pain feels good, the way it stretches your back and intensifies the arch of it, forces you to look at him and yourself. Your mascara is pooling beneath your eyes, pupils blown wide and cheeks reddened.
"Would'ya just look at yourself", Tangerine groans, "Ya might be the hottest fucking thing I've seen in a long fuckin' time --" He groans again, thumb catching your lower lip and you moan as you watch his face coming a little loose with pleasure.
Tangerine picks up a faster rhythm, thrusting into you and you push your hips back, meeting him - desperate for more more more. He grins at you in the mirror and his hand creeps a little lower, until it rest riiight below your jawline and then -
Then he squeezes.
It has you gasping, choking a little at the sudden loss of air and the feeling of your windpipe being closed. Your hip bucks against his and he licks his lips.
The lack of air has adrenaline rushing through your veins once more, as his dick pushes against your spongy hot walls and you feel your body surrendering to him fully, the small voice in the back of your head remembering you that You are at his mercy has you growing even wetter.
The hand lets go off your throat, now gently holding your head in place and you suck in a few deep breaths, gasping, greedily sucking in the air, as --
There must be a bump on the rails, as the wagon suddenly lifts a little and has you thrown forward towards the mirror, shoves his dick deeper into you. You moan, instinctively catching his eyes in the mirror.
His lips are slightly parted, eyes darkened by lust and his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips. The train speeds up just as he leans forward, throws his chest against your back. His body is so so hot against yours and your walls flutter around his dick, as his scent wraps you in once more.
Tangerine lowers his head, until his forehead rests on your shoulder, cock twitching inside of you. "Ya have no bloody idea what'cha doin' to me, Lady", he says, voice coarse and dark and your eyelids flutter, "'M gonna ruin ya."
He lifts his head a little and your gazes connect in the mirror once more. A shiver runs down your spine - he means it.
And you feel it, too, as he thrusts into you once, knocks the air out of your lungs with the sheer force of it. The tip of his dick hits the spot perfectly and you nearly cry out in pleasure, hands gripping the sink tightly. There are small lines forming around his eyes as he's grinning against your shoulder, pulls out a little only to force himself back in, even deeper this time. The hand that was toying with your tit leaves, crawls back down and his arm wraps itself around your waist, holds you close.
Your legs shake as Tangerine picks up a faster rhythm, starts pounding in to you like a starved man, like an animal gone wild. It's in his eyes, hunger hunger hunger and you feel pleasure shooting through your body, pooling in your abdomen. You squirt against his dick, wetting the trimmed pubic hair as his balls slap against your wet skin.
You suck in a sharp breath, a strangled high pitched whiny moan escaping your lips, as he hits your walls again, tip of his dick brushing over your g-spot, having you seeing stars. Your eyelids flutter, gasps escaping your mouth with every one of his thrusts.  
"Be fuckin' loud, you lil'slut, I don't care - one - bit", he says through gritted teeth, each word one thrust, "If they come knockin'. I’ll kill’em."
It shouldn’t – really, it shouldn’t – but it has your head swimming, rocking back against him, obscene sounds filling the small bathroom and you moan loudly. His jewellery rustles and clinks as he ruts into you, huffing against your shoulder. The force of his thrusts has your body moving back and forth like a ragdoll, hipbones bouncing against the sink, one of your hands coming loose and pressing flat against the mirror, desperate for any sort of leverage.
You can feel yourself clenching around him, white hot pleasure building on the edges of your brain, until there's nothing left but him him him.
"Fuck", you cry out, "I'm gonna fucking cum, shit shit shit", lips falling agape with pure pleasure. It’s too much and you can feel your muscles tensing.  
The hand around your throat tightens a bit more and that’s all you need – has your eyes falling shut, your second orgasm rolling over you. It knocks the air straight out of your lungs, has you going limp, while the muscles in your thighs and abdomen clench, holding and squeezing his dick inside of you.
You can hear him moan deeply, sounding far far away and then his cum hits your walls, paints it as he buries himself deep deep inside of you. You gasp, desperate for air and he lets go off your throat.
You suck in a few breaths and feel him doing the same, chest heaving against your back. "Fuck", he says and slowly straightens back up, looking at you in the mirror.
"Y'good over there, love?"
"Uh-huh", you hum, unable to speak, and blink at him. His hair's a mess and his cheeks are a little reddened, glistening with sweat.
Tangerine fucking winks at you and then slooowly, very carefully pulls out of you. You inhale sharply as you feel some of his cum following suite, dripping down your legs. You want to straighten up, too, clean it up, but he's quicker, taking one of the disposable towels and gently sweeps along your cunt.
"'S good, I can do that too, y'know", you say and take it from him, cleaning yourself up. For a long moment, while you can hear him putting himself back in his pants, there's silence between the two of you. Only, as you carefully put your dress back in place, does he look at you again.
"Be careful tonight, sweetheart", he says nonchalantly while tugging his shirt back into his slacks. He says it like it's nothing but it has the hairs on your body standing up.
I’ll kill’em. I’ll kill’em. I’ll kill’em. You look on the slight stains that his blood left on your fingers, that soaked his shirt.
"Make you sure you get out of that train in Nagoya, y'hear me?", his gaze is soft as it lands upon you. Your brain goes numb with anxiety.
"Y-yeah, yeah sure. I'm meeting a friend there, wouldn't miss her for the world."
He smiles at that. A genuine, warm smile. It does something funny to your stomach. "Alright love, gotta dash", he's straightening his vest and giving himself a glance in the mirror, running his hands through his hair, "There's this chap I gotta get rid of. Gimme a call, when you're in London, would'ya?"
You just nod and take the slim, white card he hands you. The numbers on it are orange.
"Very fucking funny", you huff and he grins, leans down towards you, and places his lips on your cheek. The kiss is feather-light but it'll haunt you late at night in the weeks, months to come after the story of the crashed bullet train breaks the international news. But right now, it makes your chest tingle in all the right ways.
"Tis'a good girl, eh?", Tangerine whispers and then, throwing one last look at you, struts out of the door.
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milswrites · 11 months ago
Text
Hobbies Part 9.
~ Azriel X Reader
Summary: In an attempt to keep Azriel away from Elain, Rhys sends him on a sabbatical to the Day Court. With a lot more free time on his hands Azriel needs to find something to keep him occupied. Unfortunately he meets Y/N who has the annoying habit of not staying away. Can she teach him that there’s more to life than he thought?
Grumpy!Azriel X Sunshine!Reader
Series masterlist
Warnings: none?
Azriel moved through the halls like a starved beast. Hunting for the one thing that could satisfy him. His mate.
After the bond had snapped into place Azriel had wasted no time in travelling through his shadows to the Day Court. Whilst he couldn’t directly travel into the palace, Azriel made sure to get as close to the wards as he possibly could. Not stopping to wait for a single minute as he forced his way into the grand building, uncaring of the shocked guards who had taken to chasing after him through the winding corridors, shouts of their objection flooding his ears.
He was searching for Helion. For the one person who could tell him where Y/N was staying, where Azriel so desperately needed to go.
The shouts of alarm from the Day Court guards was a blessing for Azriel, their call having drawn the attention of the High Lord. Helion appearing before Azriel in all his glory, there was no surprise on his face at the presence of the shadowsinger in his halls. In fact it was almost as if he was waiting for him.
“I must say you’re later than I expected, did you walk here?” The High Lord teased, flashing a blinding smile to an unimpressed Azriel.
“Where is she?” He growled out, not wanting to waste any precious time he could be having with Y/N by staying and talking to Helion longer than he needed to.
“What?” The male gasped mockingly, “no hello Helion? I’ve missed you Helion? You’re the greatest High Lord ever Helion? I was hoping for more after what I did for you, forging relationships isn’t my usual job role.”
“Where is she?” Azriel snarled once more, refusing to play this game. Azriel was surprised at the control he was showing, the ugly monster inside of him that was born from the revelation of the bond wanted nothing more than to hold a knife to the High Lord’s throat until he told him where Y/N had been sent.
Helion sighed, but the glint of something other than annoyance shone in his eyes and Azriel could tell that the male was pleased at Azriel’s impromptu arrival at his court, “She’s in a village North-East of here, it’s about a two hour flight… but with the state you’re in I’d reckon you could make it in one.”
Without as much as a thank you, Azriel sped from the scene, the guards that had been chasing after him divided, allowing the tense Illyrian to pass through them, fearing what would occur if they were to stop him.
Not even waiting until he had cleared the palace gate, Azriel stretched his wings and took flight, as if spending another hour without Y/N’s grounding presence would lead to most certain death.
And so Azriel flew faster than he had ever done in his life. The bitter evening wind biting his cheeks and knotting his unruly hair. But Azriel didn’t care, not about his appearance, not when every minute that passed meant he was getting closer and closer to his mate. His Y/N.
Azriel would have flown for centuries if he had to, if only it meant Y/N would be there waiting for him when he landed. The mating bond must have gifted some cauldron-blessed power to Azriel who found he had never flown so swiftly, wings acting on their own accord as they beat powerfully, allowing Azriel to cut through the sky like a blade.
Until he felt it, the gentle tugging growing stronger, drawing him towards where he most needed to be. Stirred on by the feeling and wanting to be consumed by it completely, Azriel followed. Slowing his flight until he came across a quaint village which was glowing amber as the sun set around it. Y/N was somewhere in this small collection of thatched houses and farms, unaware of the arrival of the male who had become overwhelmed with his want to be near her.
Landing with such a force that his knees buckled, Azriel readily cast his eyes to his surroundings, scanning for the woman he so longed to hold. He walked through the gathering crowd of alarmed villagers, whispering to each other in question as they clearly had never seen an Illyrian soldier before. Let alone one who looked as feral as Azriel no doubt did after his rushed flight, wings flared and cobalt siphons vibrating with the need to release the power building within him due to his increased adrenaline the bond was pulsating through him.
He scanned all their terrified faces, seeking the familiar features of the woman he had grown to love. Eyes jumping from villager to villager until they finally landed on her. On the woman who Azriel was prepared to drop onto his knees for and beg for her forgiveness. He would do anything to ensure her happiness.
~~~~~
“Azriel” she breathed his name from her lips in disbelief, needing to repeat it to be sure that he had truly existed and that he was here now, “Azriel?”
Here she was, stood before Azriel in the sweetest shade of violet and he found himself unable to speak, stunned by her innocent beauty. Even the small crease of her brows caused his heart to palpitate. All the words he had wished to tell her over the past two weeks lodged themselves in his throat. Nothing he could say would ever do justice to the incredible woman before him.
As the shock of his sudden appearance in the village wore away, confusion flooded her expression, “Is that…my tunic? How did you get that? It was in my house.”
Once more Azriel failed to find the words he so urgently required. His mouth open yet unspeaking like a fool. Instead, he reached into the pocket of his tunic to retrieve the item he had hurriedly crammed inside before his disappearance from the Night Court. Azriel pulled out the sketchbook she had given him on their very first day of meeting and held it out to a stunned Y/N.
“What- what’s this?” She asked, taking the book with a frown on her face.
“You were right” the words finally poured from his mouth, “about me being miserable, about how I don’t do anything. That my friends wouldn’t want me to do nothing and waste away.”
Her eyebrow twitched as she pulled open the sketchbook, the pages of which were filled with inky drawings of her. Azriel knows he had failed to capture the true beauty that is Y/N. He had never drawn before and numerous pages from the book had been torn out in his frustration at his lack of skills. But he had filled the book, page after page being covered in the hours he had spent by himself in the Night Court. The need to print her pretty face in permanent ink and capture her glowing smile before he forgot it led to Azriel picking up this new hobby. The one way to ensure that even if he never saw Y/N again, he would always carry a piece of her with him.
As she took the time to turn through each work or art Azriel had created in her honor, the trails of tears that freely flowed down her rosy cheeks and her rapidly beating heart which Azriel felt entwined with his own, gave the male the confidence to continue.
“I love you” he stated, Y/N’s affectionate gaze moving from the drawings to his deadly serious face. “I have done for a while I think” he continues, “and Y/N if you forgive me I will love you with every ounce of my being until we’re nothing but dust in the stars.”
Now sure that he had her attention and Y/N wouldn’t run away or ignore him for his disappearing act, Azriel felt free to tell her what he should have done when they were in the solitude of the garden all those weeks ago, “You are the reason my heart beats and if I had to live the rest of my life not knowing if you feel the same way I do, if you share the same burning need for you that I have, then I will surely perish because that is not a life that I want to live.”
He slowly stepped towards her, raising his hand to brush the diamond-like tears from her soft cheeks, “You are my salvation and my undoing and I will love you for as long as the mother allows. And if you’ll have me, even after all that happened, I promise that I will do everything in my power to make sure that I take you to explore every inch of Prythian. That we’ll see the world together and leave no place untouched.”
Allowing the notebook to slip through her fingers and drop onto the floor, Y/N grips Azriel by the front of his tunic, the tunic she had so lovingly made him, and pulled him in to a firey kiss, uncaring of the nosy villagers who were still gathered around them.
Unwilling to waste a single moment with Y/N that he was given, Azriel’s arms flew around the woman, pulling her roughly towards his chest and encasing her in his arms as their lips melted together. His lips which moved desperately against hers, wanting to express just how much she means to him and how harrowing the past few weeks without her had been. Y/N seemed to be on the same wavelength as the kiss she delivered him was filled with the same burning passion and uncontrollable need as his.
Finally, not wanting to get too carried away in front of the crowd of people who were now awkwardly staring at the pair, their lips broke apart, though Azriel refused to let go of Y/N’s waist, not wanting her to take another step further from him.
She smiled, lifting her hand so it brushed over the shoulder of his tunic, “it fits” she beams, pleased to see the shadowsinger wearing her clothes. “It’s perfect” he whispered whilst leaning his forehead against hers, “I think I’m going to need a whole wardrobe full of them. All with dresses to match for you of course. Pink, purple, blue, I want them all.”
“That’s a lot of work” she giggled, hands still running over her creation which fit snug against his broad form.
“If you give me another chance we’ll have all the time in the world” he said earnestly, pulling his head away from hers far enough that they could lock their eyes with each other, “I know I don’t deserve it after what I did to you but please allow me to have a do over. A proper date this time now that I’m not afraid to call it what it is.”
“No running away?” She asked, a brief glimpse of sadness in her eyes as the memory of his absence was still fresh in her mind.
“Not even the mother herself could drag me away from you now” he promised, lips brushing against his mates once more.
Part 10
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Notes: I screamed the entire time I was writing this. She knows he loves her but she’s yet to find out about the bond…hmmm wonder how that will go.
Only one more chapter and then the epilogue and it’s over but I really don’t want it to be 😭😭😭
Taglist:
@thelov3lybookworm @minnieoo @going-through-shit @iluvyewman-blog @laughterafter @amysangel @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @justvibbinghere @honeybeeboobaa @willowpains @tele86 @mysticalfuncollectorus @mybestfriendmademe @starryhiraeth @gorlillaglue25 @moonlwghts @darling006 @anuttellaa @serendipityx150 @xxxalicerogersxx @that-one-little-soybean @scatteredstardustt @naturakaashi @nyx-the-alien @lostinpages13 @namelesssav @dreamlandreader @fightmedraco @maxmouse001
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evandsolo · 4 months ago
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𝑫𝒂𝒅!𝑨𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒛 | Their Child’s first bday | Maknae Line
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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Ateez maknae line x f!reader 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : est. relationship. family. dad!ateez. fluff. 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 2807 in total. wc is indicated next to each part. 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: parenting. Hyung Line - LIBRARY -
𝖠𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋'𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾 : FINALLY she's here ! The Maknae part ! I really hope you'll enjoy it as much as you did for the first part ! Please, like, reblog or comment if you liked it, i'd very much appreciate it.
𝑪𝒉𝒐𝒊 𝑺𝒂𝒏 - (wc : 783)
The heat of the sun rays caress your skin in the morning. It’s been a while since the sun woke you up. You can’t even remember the last time. Sun-Hee has been taking all your mornings, since she was born. But that morning, it seems like she knew you needed sleep. You roll to the other side of the bed, so you could lay your body against your husband's, but there’s just the mattress to welcome you. You open your eyes, full of incomprehension. San was off today, why wouldn’t he be by your side ? Suddenly, you hear laughter coming from the living room. Your eyebrows frown as you get out of bed to follow the sound. You finally discover the cutest scene in the world.
San was laying on the couch, a huge smile on his face and his eyes half-closed. Your daughter was resting on his chest, eyes open, her favorite Hetmongi in her hand. She was just playing and cuddling with her daddy. It was the sweetest thing ever. The smile on your face says it all. “Eomma !” Says the little shrill voice, once she saw you. “Hi Bubba ! Is daddy sleeping ?” You ask, amused. You exchange a look with your husband, who suddenly starts to fake a snore. The little girl then stands up to put her tiny hand on her father's mouth. “Yeah you’re right, daddy’s too noisy when he sleeps !” You laugh. “We should wake him up. How would you wake him ? Let's say Daddy up ! You say it with me ?” Then you slowly start to pronounce it again, happily smiling at your baby trying to wake up her dad. Suddenly, in a scream, San opens his eyes, grabs the baby, and starts putting kisses everywhere on the baby’s face, neck and chest. Her laugh echoes in the room. It was the most beautiful sound in the world, and you were lucky enough to hear it for a year now.
“Hi Gorgeous” He finally says, when he sets an eye on you. “Hi ! You’re an early bird today ! Shouldn't you be resting ?” You wish he could sleep longer on his days off. “Today’s an important day. I wanted to spend the longest day with my precious little princess.” He loved his daughter with his whole giant heart. Pregnancy used to scare you, but San had never left your side, he was the best support and the best husband ever. He was gentle, caring, sweet and so full of love. He was so ready to start a family with you. “Eomma ! Play !” Says your precious one. “You want mommy to play with us, sweet ?” Immediately answers San, a spark in his eyes. She nods her head and begins to try to get off the bust of her father. But he catches her up in flight, to go and spin her around in the air like a plane. "Come and catch us!" He throws the little girl in his arms as he walks around the house. You chase them, without hiding your hilarity.
You loved this daily life so much, simple, without fuss, just the three of you. "My turn!" You press him by grabbing your daughter from her father’s hands and then you go out through the corridors. "He must not catch us!" You whisper in Sun-Hee’s ear. But sooner than you thought, the giant arms of your husband surround you both. “Oh no ! We lost !” “Oh-Oh !” Says the little one, her tiny hand on her mouth, covering her smile. You’ve barely ever seen her this happy. “You still can have a giant cake tonight, okay baby ?” “Cake !” She repeats. “ Yes, cake ! But it’ll be tonight, with the uncles, mommy, and daddy ! We’ll blow the candle, for your birthday ! ‘Cause Sun-hee’s a big girl now, right ?” Another nod that makes you smile even wider if that was possible. “And what do we say to our big girl ?” Starts your husband, near your ear, his head resting on your shoulder. “We say, Happy Birthday Sun-Hee !” You both say at the same time, making the toddler clap her hands.
You finally put her down, so she can play on the floor. “I can’t wait to have more like her.” You turn your gaze to him, surprised. “Let’s wait a little bit longer. She’s just turning one.” You put a kiss on his lips and leave the room to grab a quick breakfast. “But you didn’t say no ! You’ll be a big sister one day, Sun !” He says to the carbon copy of himself. 
Oh you could give him a football team if he asked you to, but for now, you wanted to focus on your now one-year old, little treasure.
𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒊 - (wc : 819)
Working as a photographer, you used to take a very pretty picture of your twins, every single month, to celebrate their lives and to see how much they are evolving. Today was an important one, their first birthday. You had everything organized before. The setting, the outfits, the theme. You’ve spent hours with your husband to glue down every balloon to a wood panel. Mingi was probably more excited than you were. He loved his babies. He adored them, as much as you do. It was such a surprise when they announced at the first ultrasound that there were not one but two little hearts that were beating at the core of your being. A boy and a girl, you were the happiest parents of the universe. You waited the whole nap for them to wake up and be the most joyous little humans. But they decided to take a longer nap today than usual. Everything was in place, Mingi brought the cakes home earlier today, and they were absolutely amazing.
You couldn’t wait any longer. “We should wake them up !” You suggested, lifting your head to your husband. “We will ruin their sleep schedule if we wake them up.” You instantly pouted when he ended his phrase. “Be patient, my love. We will enjoy it later on. And I can have a few more minutes just with you.” And it’s been a real deal to have some time just for you and your husband since the babies were born. Having a baby is a big thing, but two, it’s a rollercoaster. But you had the most patient, understanding and the funniest partner in the world to go through this with. He handled the situation with so much love and care, he was perfect.
He wrapped his hand around your body, to draw you to him and to place his head in the hollow of your neck to place a kiss. “Do you think we did a good job ?” You suddenly ask, resting your head on his shoulder. “Are you really asking ?” He said by straightening up. You lift your shoulders. “I was just thinking.” You said. It has been a struggle for you since the announcement. You’ve been so scared of being a bad mom to them. You couldn’t imagine how life would be without them, but sometimes the questions were too strong to be held back in your mind. “You’re the most amazing mom to our children, my love. And I'll tell you as much as you need to hear it.” He places a kiss on your forehead at the same time as laughs are heard. “And they’ll be here to remind you how much they love you. Let’s get them.” He said, leading you by the hand to pick up your little ones. 
You open the door to your smiley babies. “-Ma !” Said the boy when he saw you, shaking his little arms for you to pick him up. “Hi sweet Sun ! That was a good nap, huh?” You answer by lifting his little body to yours. “And that’s my little shining Star !” Said Mingi wrapping his arms around his daughter. The babies smiled to each other, grabbing each other's hand. You exchange a tender look with your husband before you go to change the twins. Later, they’re all dressed as little bears and that’s the cutest thing. Mingi adds up little bows in your daughter’s hair and a bow tie around your son’s neck. Soon you bring up the two little cakes in front of the babies, a big 1 on top of them and you start to take a lot of pictures.
It was a teamwork, as their dad tried to make them smile wide and big but the cakes had all their attention. Without you being able to prevent it, the hands of the toddlers are buried in butter cream and cakes, perfectly destroyed. Their little faces are covered in white and sprinkles. You couldn’t help but laugh, the babies were a mess, but at least they had so much fun. “I could have bet it would end up like this.” Mingi said in a laugh. “Wanna try some of that cake, mama ?” He added, sitting next to the babies, a bit of buttercream on the tip of his finger.
You abandon the camera to sit with them. You opened your mouth to taste the cream, but it ended up on your nose. “Mingi !” You squeak, making him laugh harder. “Oh look ! Mom has some cake on her face !” He said to the babies, before putting some more to each one’s nose. “We should put some on daddy too !” You said, joyfully. It was your husband’s turn to have his face painted with some food. The day ended up in a giant cake explosion everywhere, but your heart was so full. Life was so fun with those three. And it’s just the beginning.
𝑱𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝑾𝒐𝒐𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒈 -(wc : 501 )
Life’s been pretty amazing since you gave birth, a year ago. Better, you learned that you can fall in love more than once. You can easily remember every time your heart fell again. The first was when you saw Wooyoung holding his newborn daughter in his arms for the first time. The tears in his eyes, and the brightest smile on his face, oh gosh, you've never been more in love. Then you witnessed every second of his life with the both of you, and you realized how lucky you were. 
It was late at night, you insisted on going to bed, since you were really tired and needed a good night of sleep. Luckily your beautiful baby girl was a very good sleeper, so you knew you could have the long night you deserve. Especially knowing that you and Wooyoung had spent the evening preparing a surprise for your little girl. Balloons, glitters, and tons of animals everywhere. She’ll be so happy when she wakes up in the morning. But when you're going to the room after a clean up, you realize that your daughter’s bedroom door is half open.
When you go to look at it, you find your fiancé, leaning on the little being that you had given birth to. Your heart softens as you lean against the door.  “ She’s not going to fly away, you know.” You murmur, amused to see him here. “It’s past midnight. She’s not a baby anymore…” He answers, his eyes not leaving his daughter for a second. “She's really growing up, huh ?” You approach him to surround his waist with your arms. “Too fast. I wish she could stay this innocent and tiny forever.” But time flies. It was like you’ve given birth yesterday and now, she’s one already. “Do you think she’ll love her birthday and her presents ?” he asks, grabbing your hand, while the other is drawing circles on the baby’s tummy. “She’ll adore it ! She’ll have a blast tomorrow morning, but we definitely should go to sleep if we want to survive.” And you’ll need some energy, that’s for sure. There will be some other toddlers in the room, and above all, there will be eight great men who sometimes behave themselves as happy children. "I’ll meet you in five minutes." he said, putting a kiss on your temple. You nod and walk out of the room to hear it a few moments later. "You are the most beautiful thing that ever happened to us. You make me the happiest dad on earth." You lean against the wall, your heart, warmer than ever.
“I’ll always be there for you and your mom. You’ll never have to be afraid.” You knew, he’d be the most perfect father ever. “I can’t believe you’re already one. Happy birthday, my sweet little princess.” He says, while you wipe a tear that is running down your cheek. Wooyoung loves his daughter so much, it was quite overwhelming. It was what you’ve ever dreamed of. 
𝑪𝒉𝒐𝒊 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐 -(wc : 704 )
It was such a special day. It was just the three of you and your husband had everything organized. He wanted that day to be locked in your child's memory forever. You had told him so many times that your little girl wouldn’t remember it, but he wanted to make it extra special. You celebrate your first birthday only once. He had booked the best breakfast in town, so that your baby could have the most delicious croffle ever. She was the most excited baby in the world. Laughing and charming everyone around. She then napped against her father’s chest, in the carrier. Her sweet chubby cheek, crushed against the fabric of the sweater that your partner was wearing. You took a lot of pictures of that moment. Jongho loved to have his baby all against his body. He used to make dinner, having her in the carrier. To play with the boys, while carrying her. And for the first months, it has been quite a relief for you. You could take time to relax, and breathe, without having to constantly rock the baby around. You loved being a mom, and Jongho made it so much easier. And she had the best sleep ever. You could understand your daughter, you loved to sleep on your hubby’s chest too.
She looked exactly like him, you adored her. She was the sweetest, funniest, calmest little girl. You felt so lucky. And the feeling was so overwhelming, that in the middle of the park you were walking in, you just wrapped your arms around your husband. “Oh Love… What’s that ?” he asked, surprised but endeared by your gesture. ‘I just feel so lucky. To have you, to have her.” You sigh. Your head rested on his shoulder and you put a hand on your baby’s back. “And that’s why you’re being so emotional ?” he answered, with the sweetest voice. “You’re making fun of me !” You whine in a pouty voice, making him laugh.
A hand of his, joined yours on your baby and he kissed the top of your head. “I’m not. I just love you a little more every time.” Your heart exploded with those words. Lifting yourself on your toes, you kiss his cheek. Love has never been that easy. But he was the answer to everything. 
Later on, you entered that big baby clothes store, you wanted to go for so long. You came here only once, fully pregnant with your baby girl, but ended up only buying her, her very first outfit, since it was very pricey. But since it was a special day, you didn’t want to give her tons of toys. The family had already taken care of it anyway.
You thought a nice outfit would do the trick, but judging by all the clothes your partner already had in his hands, he didn’t have the same idea as you. “Honey… That’s a lot.” You say. But looking at every piece, it looks absolutely amazing. So cute, and so perfect for her. “ I will buy her every special piece. Because she deserves it, she’s our little princess.” He said, looking at the smiley little baby in his arms. “You like it, Sunshine ?” The baby got a giant smile, when she looked at her dad. “She likes it !” He said, looking at you. “She likes you, Honey.” You corrected him nicely. He continued to look around, and finally ended up with a handful of tiny dresses, tops, little overalls, pajamas. “She’ll look better than the other babies, everywhere she’ll go.” You couldn’t help but smile so wide. “You’re spoiling her. We said nothing big.” You say, amused. the baby started shaking in her dad’s arms. “Little princess has enough, huh ?” Your voice soothes, and you take a look at Jongho who understood.
You headed both to the cashier. Check out every little piece of fabric, and get out of the store, arms full of bags. “Once we’re home, we’ll do online shopping for you. It’s your first birthday as a mom. We should celebrate that too.” He said, with his whole giant heart in his voice. His presence everyday sounded like a celebration, but today. You fell in love harder than ever.
Okaaay ! Here we are ! Lemme know if you'd like to see more about ateez in my suggestions ! It's open ! ✿ Every thought is appreciated ! ©evandsolo, 2O24
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evilminji · 1 year ago
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Gold can be exchanged for goods and services (o.o )
Pariah's Keep probably has a shit ton of Precious Goods from various places.
Danny is become King?
If Danny becomes King... then the Zone will somewhat obey him. The Crown and Ring could EASILY tell him where the next natural portal is, where it opens up, and for how long. How many there are. Could probably make a few.
Probably WAS supposed to be making them. Consciously. But, well, Coma(tm).
Would probably count as Kingly Duty to filter and collect. Clean Ecto goes out for souls that remain, a Gateway home for those that wish to LEAVE, so forth and so on.
Effectively, being The Grim Reaper. You don't CAUSE Death. You just guide the way home. If folks so choose.
And that's neat! Horrifying, but neat! And Danny can TOTALLY see how it would eventually drive him completely breakfast cereal fruity nuggets! LUCKILY, he's got a vaguely bro's/Mentor thing going with the ghost who has ALL OF POSSIBLE TIME flowing through HIS head! So Danny should be Gucci!
The headaches suck though.
But WHAT... to do with all this Gold and valuable Space Goods? Most of these aren't even recognized currency on earth! Like the Shells. You could buy a mansion with one of those... on the right planet. On Earth? Pretty paperweight. Hmmmm >.>
Wait.
WAIT!
<o> *points to top of head!* CROWN! It can? Predict and make PORTALS!
Portals lead any WHERE and any WHEN!
:O
Gold... can be exchanged for goods and services. He remembers, holding a gold brick, about to eat so, SO much pizza.
But WAIT! I hear you wondering! Surely, you mean? Within his past? The history and region of space he knows, right? Ha ha :) Nope! Cowards.
Danny is on the alien otter's planet, trading those sweet, sweet Shells for some snacks no human could eat and a shawl for his sister! He's hiding, badly, behind a food stall in the Martian market place. Hoping future hero J'onn Johnes doesn't notice him.
Lying to the Space Cops, bout where his untraceable Space Money came from, on an alien trading satellite. The Green Lantern's not buying it. Oh noooo >.> sudden Fright Knight. Looming Menacingly by the loading doooocks. Everyone's upset! Definitely not related to him! Better go check on that! :) *gets the heck out of dodge* (my king. Please stop using me as a distraction.) (No promises)
But! It's all fun and games? Until your human friends get sick. Like... REALLY sick.
And then you suddenly remember time and space mean nothing to you. One 15 minute flight that way, two doors, a quick flight of stairs, and a literal child's play place slide? You could be in the 32nd century.
That disease is AT BEST, an unpleasant afternoon, there.
Here, your friend could die.
You trade a student two Spanish dubloons. They have no idea what they are. Just like the look of them and know they're real metal. They walk into the pharmacy for you. Don't question your "social experiment paper" lie.
You're back in less then an hour.
The screaming argument about ethics and mortality lasts hours.
She still takes the medicine. Gets better. Won't talk to you for months. Because why does HER life matter more? Why bend the rules for HER? And you can't bring yourself to say what pulses as Truth from both Crown and Ring.
You could because she didn't Matter. Time... would not notice, nor change. She was in no way pivotal to the flow of history, must one more ant beneath its unrelenting march. Mattering only because those who love her CARE. Because one or two little things might change for the better.
But it takes the shine off of it, a little.
Being able to go to the FUTURE. Watch movies and see aliens and humans alike in the crowd. Read books and dance to songs from people who won't be born for hundreds of years. Eat snacks from the farthest reaches of the cosmos. Or the early BCs!
And that's BEFORE other time travelers clock him as That Shopping Guy. The one who keeps popping up... buying things. For what? Unknown. Probably dinner. Half the time it's food. Trinkets. Once it was a really, REALLY nice goat. (His aunt was THRILLED.)
It probably drives Bart crazy. Because NO ONE knows anything about the guy? Everyone just universally goes "oooh yeah! HIM! Yeah, he sure does Exsist(tm). Very... present and exsistant." Like that's not CRAZY! He has so many question. So Many! What is he even BUYING!? Why? Is there an order? Or is he winging it?!
*pulls out list* he needs ANSWERS!
@hypewinter @hdgnj @ailithnight
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artemis-pendragon · 8 months ago
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M9 bits I need them to keep in the animated show in no particular order because they're all precious to me:
• "Can you hold me through the show?"
• The entirety of the hospital heist
• Yasha's full list of advice to Caleb on how to get people to like you
• As much Frumpkin, Nugget, and Sprinkle as physically possible
• Caleb playing dead and Jester doing the MOST to save him
• Boulder parchment shears
• The syphilis bandits
• Ol' Buttonbeard the ghost pirate
• *Beau getting arrested*
Jester, genuinely surprised: Oh, I thought you didn't like jails!
• Widomauk forehead kiss pls pls pls
• REGULAR GNOLL, REGULAR GNOLL
• Molly and Beau getting astrally high and needing a tripsitter to follow them around
• Veth and the minotaur 😏
• Jester's "HI, DAD" sending
• "You poopin'?" sendings
• The sendings to Astrid lmfao 😭
• Actually just all of Jester's sendings
• Fluffernutterrrrr!!!
• Jester and Beau reading smut aloud to the entire party while they're trying to be stealthy
• Jester angrily drawing Avantika full of arrows and knives out of jealousy
• THE ENTIREITY OF THE DUST OF DELICIOUSNESS SCENE OR WE RIOT
• Kiri saying "Welcome to the Mighty Nein!" and "Go FUCK yourself!! 🥰"
• Fjord's 3 natural ones
• Nott's disguise self Fjord impression
• Fjord: Make a comment about my strength and I'll throw you off this ship
Nott: Well first, you couldn't
• "Yashaaaa your hair looks really good. The humidity in here..." *awkward gay muttering*
• Yasha: *deeeep armpit sniff* I smell like a crayon :/
• "Well who am I to judge? Have you seen me?" "I've seen you. I've seen you a lot."
• Beau reading Yasha's love letter in the bath 🥹
• Jester (gasp) actually using healing magic because it's for FJORD 😤
• Beau just fucking bodying that girl at Traveler Con
• Shiver and queef in SOME form idk how but I need it immortalized in film
• Fjorester kiss in the rain or else
• Beauyasha first flight scene!!! Please!!!
• ALSO THE ENTIREITY OF THE BEAUYASHA DATE IN THE TOWER IT DESERVES ITS OWN EPISODE NO I DONT TAKE CRITICISM
• If anyone has more to add pls do I know there's like a million priceless moments in CR2 lmao
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diaday333 · 1 year ago
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Prayers to the Gods for the Palestinian people.
Keep sharing, keeping protesting, keep b0ycotting, but your prayers also have power, not just for yourself, but for others too. The Gods weep as we do at this injustice. They are just as angry as we are. The Gods will always care about injustice. Remember Xenia.
Also ! Anyone can use these, feel free to change the prayers to fit any other gods!
—————————————————————
To Apollo and Artemis to protect the young in Palestine
To lovely Artemis and Apollo, protectors of children, please give your grace to the children of Palestine.
Please let them have as many joyful moments as possible— even if it's their last.
Watch over them and protect them all the way into to their final seconds
Avert evil and harm from them as much as possible
Grant them the peace of seeing their siblings and caretakers, even if it's the last time
Let them know the joys of being a child, even if it's fleeting Let them play, sing, dance
Grant them joy and grant them peace and then extend that joy, comfort, and beauty into their afterlives/ next lives, so that they won't know this fear and sorrow again.
Love and protect the children of Palestine as they are as precious as any other
—————————————————————
To Ares, most unbreakable
To Ares, most unbreakable, whose courage and strength are as unlimited as he is
Please extend that same fortitude and strength to the Palestinians
Οβριμος (strong, mighty) make it so that their strength and courage never runs out
Αδάμαστος (unconquerable, indestructible) make it so they wont die without a fight, that as much as the oppressors think they have complete power of them, they never will
Τειχεσιπλητης (stormer of cities, walls) make it so they break out of the hell they've been forced it
Λαοσσοος (he who rallies people), make it so the people unconditionally come to their support
Beloved Ares, you are as kind as you are destructive Save your grace for the Palestinians, for you weep as much as we do for them.
But unleash your wrath on the oppressors and murderers
Make it so they never have another day of peace
That the blood on their hands stains everything they touch, polluting their lives, and so it may never wash off
Δεινος (terrible, fearsome), show them no mercy.
Ares, saviour and protector of people, protect and love the Palestinians as you do.
—————————————————————
To Athena defender and savior of people
To Athene, defender of cities
She with the most wisdom, hold them with you under your unbreakable shield
Σωτειρα (savior) please save them from the unyielding bombs and rubble that many are buried in
Αλαλκομενηις (protector) protect them always, for they are as precious as any other. Protect them while alive and after they're gone, protect their legacy, their story
Παιωνια (healer), help them use their limited medical supplies to save as many as they can. Protect the doctors and any healthcare workers, so that they may help as many as they can
Protector, Saviour, defender, please save the Palestinian people, their home, and their legacy.
—————————————————————
To Zeus, savior and most merciful
To Zeus, most high, extend your endless kindness and grace to the Palestinian people.
Σωτηρ (savior) please save the Palestinian people, for their lives are as precious as any other.
For they have a culture, story and history as rich as any other.
Λαοιτης (of the people) make it so they are never forgotten and while some deem them unworthy of living, make that known to the people that that is untrue
Ελευθεριος (of freedom) make it so they will know freedom and will not be under siege any longer
Τροπαιος (turns to flight, defeats), instill in them the fighting spirit they need, and the spirit to live, so they can expel the oppressors from their land.
Παλαμναιος (punisher of murderers), make it so the oppressors can’t get away with their crime, that they never can escape from their own actions
Επιδωτης (giver of good), make it so they can find as many moments of peace and slight escape as they can, no matter how fleeting it is. Whether it be sitting with a loved one or getting a sip of fresh water, give it to them.
Θεος Αγαθος, (the good god) you as much as the other Gods teach us Xenia (hospitality, friendliness basically), to hold it close to our hearts, to hold people close to our hearts. We know you are as just as angry as we are, and we know you mourn with us. And just like you, we will let no injustice pass
No one should stay silent about this or any other injustices. Speak up, protest, share, and pray
(Also please excuse any spelling, grammar, and other errors,, I did read over it but yknow)
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roosterforme · 1 year ago
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Batting Practice Part 32 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley understands more each day what it means to be Everett's dad. He's ready to do all of the fun father and son stuff, along with the important things that will keep Everett safe and happy. The three of you are ready to become the Bradshaws.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, fighting
Length: 3500 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader
Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.
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The white board on your refrigerator had been updated by Everett. There was only one day left until Bradley was going to adopt him, and your body was thrumming with anticipation. The three of you were about to become the Bradshaws, for real.
Your husband made your home so much warmer. His big shoes were lined up next to yours and Everett's inside the front door. His schedule was hanging next to the white board so he knew which days he needed to wear his flight suit. His favorite beer was in a battle for precious real estate against your cold brew coffee. For someone who claimed he never had a real home before this since his mom died, he was doing a great job of making yours even better. 
"We're heading to the park for a bit," Bradley said, wrapping his arm casually around your waist from behind as you made dinner. "We'll be back in less than an hour." He kissed the side of your neck and held you snug against him for a beat. "I love you."
How was living without him ever supposed to compete with this? You turned and watched him take Everett by the hand, and they walked out to the Bronco talking a mile a minute about math homework and batting averages. 
You were trying to make a special dinner, because Molly was coming over with Bob. He'd arrived back in San Diego earlier this morning, and Molly texted you to let you know she was taking Bob home for a long nap, and then they would be over. A long nap sounded like a euphemism for some freaky sex, but you were just pleased that he was back and that Molly was happy. 
Your sister and Bob walked in at the same time that Bradley and Everett returned from the park. "Uncle Bob! I missed you!" your son shouted, running across the living room to his former tee ball coach and perhaps someday uncle. Bob knelt down and collected him in a tight hug. "And Aunt Molly missed you so much. She ate a lot of chocolate and cried sometimes."
You watched Bob glance up at Molly with such a lovesick expression, you had to turn away. "I missed you too, Ev," he replied. "And I missed your Aunt Molly and the baby. I heard you shared your candy with her."
"I did," he said proudly as you walked dinner over to the dining room table. Bradley pulled Bob into a brief hug, and then you kissed him softly on the cheek.
"How was your deployment? Uneventful, I hope?" you asked him with a smile.
"Another woman kissed him," Molly said, casually slipping into her usual seat and scooping food onto her plate as you gasped. "He doesn't understand how handsome he is."
"Mo," Bob groaned, sliding down in the seat next to her while his cheeks flushed pink. "Why are you telling them this?"
You made eye contact with Bradley across the room, and he shrugged, just as confused as you were. "Is everything okay?" you asked cautiously. 
But Bob was kissing Molly's fingertips as she ran her nose along his cheek as if she hadn't just made that announcement to the room. They still looked as in love as they always did, and Molly's face was placid as she started scooping dinner onto Everett's plate. 
"Everything's fine," Bob said, nodding at you. "I had no idea anything like that could even happen. I'll be more proactive in the future."
"Yes," Molly agreed. "No more gray sweatpants on deployments. We both learned our lesson."
"Gray sweatpants?" you asked as you sat down across from Molly. "You wore gray sweatpants in front of someone other than Molly?"
Bob cradled his face in embarrassment, pinching his nose just below his glasses. "I did. I told you it was a bad idea from the start, Honey," he whispered to Molly. 
"You wore them in public?!" Bradley nearly shouted. "Bob, that's bedroom attire."
"I know that now," Bob bit back. "Nothing happened. Nothing else is ever going to happen. Can we eat dinner and stop talking about it?" he asked, wrapping his arm around Molly's shoulder. "I missed being here. I'm happy I made it back in time for Bradley and Everett's big day. I just want to be with my family."
Molly pecked him on the cheek. "You're hot, Cowboy Bob. You can't afford the luxury of making late night friends on deployments. It doesn't matter who they are, they probably want to fuck you."
"Molly!" you growled, tossing your fork down and glaring at her as you nodded to Everett. 
But your son just shrugged. "It's okay. I already heard dad say it before. I know it's an adult word. It's cool."
Bradley noisily dished more food onto everyone's plates as you shook your head at him. "This is delicious, Kitten. Wow, you've outdone yourself. You want more, Molly? Have some more."
You closed your eyes and sighed. Bradley and Molly were more similar than they'd like to think. And Bob was definitely a catch even if he didn't feel like one. And you were too thankful for all of them to put up much of a fuss. "After we eat, let's talk about a game plan for tomorrow."
"Adoption day," Everett said, all smiles for Bradley. 
"I love you, Ev," your husband told him, scooping a little more food onto his plate. You could tell your son would never get tired of hearing that, and neither would you.
--------------------------
"Are you guys nervous?" you asked as Bradley pulled into the municipal parking lot behind the courthouse.
"Nope," Bradley and Everett replied in unison. Bradley was ready for this. Any apprehension he'd felt leading up to this afternoon was related to Danny, but your lawyer assured you that there would be no contest over the state of Everett's adoption. 
"I'm a little nervous," you muttered, wrapping your hand around Bradley's after he turned the key in the ignition. "Why aren't Molly and Bob here yet?"
"We're early, Kitten," he muttered, leaning across the seat to give you a kiss. He turned around to smile at Ev, sitting in his booster seat. They were wearing matching blue dress shirts and jeans, and Everett was holding his Phillies cap. "Hey, kiddo. When I drop you off at school tomorrow, I'll bring the paperwork so they know it's okay for you to write Everett Bradshaw on your homework, okay?"
Everett nodded in response. "And do you think my teacher will change the name tag on my desk? I don't like my old name anymore."
You unbuckled your seatbelt and snuggled against his chest as Bradley said, "I'll make sure it gets changed. It's not going to be an issue."
The three of you sat there for a couple minutes as Bradley rubbed your back. He answered every question Everett asked him.
"What was your dad's name again? And didn't he have a call sign too? Was your mom's last name Bradshaw? How many Bradshaws are there?"
If only they could be here today, Bradley was sure he would get to see his mom doting on Everett. Goose would have been all too happy to spread the Bradshaw name around. He knew his parents would be proud of him. "My dad was Nick Bradshaw, and his call sign was Goose." Everett giggled, and Bradley laughed too. "It's even sillier than Rooster, huh?"
"I like my call sign better than the bird ones," Everett said. 
"Me too," Bradley whispered, registering that you were wiping your eyes. "Goose would have liked it the most." 
"Grampa Goose would have liked my call sign?" Everett asked in surprise, and Bradley nodded silently, taking a few breaths to steady himself. 
"Grampa Goose would have liked everything about you."
"Bradley," you whispered, squeezing him tight. His heart could only take so much before he started crying, too. So he kissed your forehead and wiped your cheeks.
"Let's start heading inside," he whispered. "Molly and Bob will be here soon, I'm sure."
When he opened his door and stepped out into the afternoon sunlight, Bradley's eyes met Danny's from several cars away. He tried to ignore your ex husband as he scooped Everett out of the booster seat and set him down. He tried his best to avoid him until everyone went inside. But as you walked around the Bronco and took Ev's hand in yours, Bradley heard Danny laugh sardonically. 
"It's about time. I was worried you were backing out of getting this kid off my hands. I really don't feel like paying child support."
Bradley's vision wavered. He could hear a high pitched buzzing in his ears. He wanted nothing more than to permanently wipe that smirk off of Danny's face as he slammed the driver's door closed. 
"What did you just say to me?" Bradley snarled, rolling his neck as he strolled toward Danny. 
"You heard me just fine," he replied, squaring his shoulders and smirking. "But I wouldn't have blamed you for backing out. She's an annoying handful even without the kid. Should have used two condoms." But when Bradley got right up into his personal space, Danny started to look a little scared. 
Bradley had some weight on him, and he could take a few punches, no problem. His jaw flexed and he curled his hands into fists as he said, "Don't you fucking dare talk about my family like that." 
Chest to chest, he pushed Danny back against an SUV. Bradley could hear you calling his name, panic lacing your voice, but he couldn't stop now. Rage flowed through his body. If Danny didn't punch him, he was most definitely going to be the one to do it. 
"Your family is a joke," Danny said softly. "You tried sleeping with her sister yet?"
That was it. Bradley shoved him with his left hand as he drew back his right fist, but before he could do much of anything else, strong arms wrapped around him from behind and pinned his arms to his sides. Bob's voice was in his ear as he tried his best to pull Bradley backwards. 
"Come on, Rooster. You don't want to do this. Ev is watching."
Bradley let Bob yank him a few more feet away from Danny, and then he turned to see you, Ev and Molly all standing by the Bronco looking terrified. 
"You're not fucking worth it, you piece of shit," Bradley told Danny who was still smiling like a prick. 
"Thanks for giving me the best day of my life," he replied, straightening out his shirt and winking. Bob kept a good hold on Bradley until Danny was inside the courthouse.
"You okay?" he asked, and Bradley shook him off. The thing was this really was the best day of Bradley's life. Or maybe the second best. Either way, he didn't want to ruin it now.
"Yeah," he replied, his voice rough with emotion. And then he was scooping Everett into his arms. "I'm sorry, kiddo. I didn't mean to scare you."
"I don't like my old dad," he replied softly, wrapping his arms around Bradley's neck. 
"I promise, this is the last time you'll ever have to see him." Everett nodded against Bradley's shoulder as he leaned down and pressed his forehead to yours. "I'm sorry, Kitten."
"I don't want you to get in trouble, Bradley," you said, voice shaky. "He's not even worth it."
"I know," he replied softly, kissing your cheek and nodding at Bob. "He's so horrible, I can't understand how Ev is perfect."
You kind of shrugged and said, "It's like he was never there, Coach. It was like we were just waiting for you the whole time. You were tailor made for us."
Bradley wore those words with pride as Bob held the door open, and he carried Everett inside the courthouse behind you and Molly. He didn't even look at Danny again. Instead he focused on his son and his wife. He let Molly distract him. He kept his arms wrapped around Everett until the judge called them all up to the front of the room. 
And then it was scary how fast everything moved. It was unsettling how easily Danny announced to the entire fucking room that he wanted nothing to do with Everett. He didn't want his own son. Bradley listened to him say, "I contest nothing. I relinquish all of my rights." 
And even though Bradley knew Everett was excited that he was being adopted, those words from his biological father packed a punch. Maybe Everett didn't understand their full meaning yet, but Bradley definitely did. 
When the judge asked Bradley to confirm that he wanted to adopt Everett, he reached for Ev's hand. This perfect kid was looking right up at him with innocent, trusting eyes and a worried expression. Bradley felt your hand on his back, and he could hear you crying softly. 
"Do you want to adopt your wife's child?" the judge asked again.
Did he want to? More than anything. He could hardly believe he was even allowed to do something so grand and meaningful. It was hard for him to acknowledge that Everett wanted him. 
"Yes, I want to adopt you, Everett. I can't wait to be your dad. It kind of feels like I've already been your dad for months and months, kiddo."
That sweet face erupted into a bright smile. "Yeah, it's been a good couple of months, Coach."
Bradley laughed in spite of himself, and he felt your hand drop down to lace fingers with him. "The best. And now it's going to be forever. Yes, I want to adopt you." Then he turned to kiss your forehead before looking at the judge. "Yes, I want to adopt Everett."
"And you'll take full, permanent legal custody?"
"Yes. Happily." He smiled down at Everett before scooping him up with his right arm while still holding your hand with his left. He felt his eyes prickle with the feeling of unshed tears when Ev wrapped his arms around his neck, just knowing he'd be safe and loved. 
"Then I grant Bradley Bradshaw full legal custody." 
Even though Bradley expected to hear those words today, he felt his tears finally give way. "I love you," he whispered, burying his face against Everett. "Thanks for letting me be your dad."
Then Bradley's lips were on yours, and you wrapped your arms around both of them. And Bradley hadn't felt this much love since he was a little boy. He was getting a second chance at having a perfect little family of three. And he'd do everything he could to keep this feeling. 
"Thank you, Kitten," he gasped, letting you wipe his tears away with your soft fingertips. Bradley was vaguely aware that Danny had quickly signed a few papers and turned to stroll out of the courtroom, just going along with his day like none of this was important. But it was important to Bradley. And it was important to Everett. And he refused to release his grip on you or his son as he signed his own set of paperwork a little awkwardly fumbling the pen a bit.
"That's it?" he asked the clerk who collected the paperwork. "I'm his dad now, for real? He can change his last name to Bradshaw?"
And Bradley got the perfect response. "That's it. He's your son."
"He's my son!" Bradley shouted, releasing your hand and hugging a happy, giggling Everett. "He's my son." He carried Everett across the room to where Molly had tears streaming down her cheeks as she held Bob's hand. 
"You know, I'm not even going to call you a turd for the rest of the day," she sobbed, reaching up to give Bradley a kiss on the cheek. "I'm happy for you, Ev," she told her nephew. "We were pretty good before, but we're better with Bradley."
"And Uncle Bob," Everett added, reaching out to give Bob a high five.
"Yes," Molly agreed, "and Uncle Bob." She looked up at her boyfriend with adoration. "I love my family."
Bradley loved this family, too. And he was never going to stop talking about it. And he was never going to set Everett down. And he was never going to stop doting on the two of you. 
"I can't believe you're really ours now," you whispered as tears shone in your eyes. "Officially."
"You're the loves of my life, Kitten. Both of you."
-------------------------
As Bradley settled into a chair at the table with the paper tablecloth and crayons, he kept Everett on his lap. He didn't need to look at the menu. You already knew what kind of pizza and beer everyone liked. When the waitress came to take the order, Bradley added, "And some apple juice for my son, please."
And next thing he knew, Molly was crying in the seat across from him, insisting they were all just happy tears. And then Nat showed up with a bunch of balloons that said #1 DAD. And you kept calling him Everett's father and leaning in to kiss him. 
"Stop, please," Bradley said, holding a napkin underneath the piece of pizza that Everett was eating. He caught the sauce before it dripped onto Ev's lap and added, "I can only take so much before I start crying again."
He had cried in the Bronco on the way to the restaurant. Then he cried harder when Everett asked him, "Why are you crying, dad?" And now he felt those same happy tears once again. 
"I think it's sweet," you told him with a soft smile. "All the tears."
"I'm barely holding it together, Kitten," he whispered, catching more of Everett's sauce on the napkin. "It's overwhelming."
When everyone was finished eating, there was a battle over who was going to pay. Bradley watched everyone pull out their wallets and credit cards, a cacophony erupting about why each person wanted to treat him to his first dinner as a dad. But he stood up, still holding onto Everett. "I want to pay!" he said, letting Everett stand on the empty chair next to him. "Because until very recently, I never knew how badly I needed to treat my family to a pizza night." He took a deep breath and sighed. "Nat, you've been my friend and family for the longest. And I love you for that."
She smiled at him and nodded. "Love you too, Bradshaw."
Bradley reached out a hand to fist bump Bob. "And then Bob became a friend that morphed into family, all because of tee ball. And now I have a sister-in-law who likes to pick on me relentlessly. You better marry him, Molly."
She just kind of shrugged, but Bradley didn't miss the coy smile on her lips. "We'll see."
Then Bradley turned to you and leaned down to kiss your lips. "I never thought I'd have a sister-in-law, because I never thought I'd be lucky enough to get married in the first place. But I love you, Kitten. I'm gonna love you forever. Both of you."
"You're the best thing that ever happened to us, Coach," you whispered, brushing your lips against his again. 
And then Bradley turned his attention to Everett. "But you've made me feel complete, kiddo. A son? On top of everything else? It doesn't seem possible. But I can't wait to do all the father and son stuff."
Then Everett simply said, "I love you, dad." 
"I love you, too."
Bradley paid for dinner and carried his son out to the parking lot. And the whole way home, he held your hand. "What do the two of you think about Disney World for winter break? Or we could go to Phillies spring training? But we don't want to risk missing Ev's cousin being born. So I was thinking a trip to Philadelphia next summer instead? Maybe catch a Phillies doubleheader, meet the Phanatic, and eat some cheesesteaks. Just the three of us."
"Yes!" Everett cheered from the backseat, pumping his fists in the air. "I can get the Phanatic to sign my baseball card!"
"Well?" Bradley asked you as he pulled into the driveway while Everett sang the Phillie Phanatic song. "What do you wanna do, Kitten?"
You unbuckled yourself and crawled across the seat, wrapping your arms around his neck, and Bradley melted into your touch. Your lips brushed his, and he smiled as you said, "Anything. As long as it's the three of us."
------------------------------
THE BRADSHAWS! It has been a pleasure writing and posting this series for the past seven months! I loved all of the comments and reblogs and feedback. Part 33 will be the epilogue! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and thank you for the banner @mak-32
PART 33
Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!
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