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pucksandpower · 9 months ago

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Made with Love

Charles Leclerc x amateur baker!Reader

Summary: in which Charles would rather risk the entire paddock getting food poisoning (again) than break your heart by telling you that your baking is horrible

You hum to yourself as you pull a tray of freshly baked cupcakes out of the oven. The sweet, chocolaty aroma fills Charles’ kitchen, making your mouth water.

This batch is sure to be perfect! You’ve been practicing your baking skills for months now, determined to get it just right.

Charles wanders into the kitchen, drawn by the scent. “Mmm, something smells good in here!”

He peers over your shoulder at the tray of cupcakes. They’re a bit misshapen, with cracked tops that deflated the second they were taken out of the oven. The frosting is glopped on unevenly.

To you, they look absolutely mouthwatering. To Charles, they look … well, he loves you too much to say.

“Try one!” You urge, holding out a cupcake. Charles flashes you a hesitant smile before taking it. He peels back the liner and takes a bite. His eyes widen and he forces himself to chew and swallow.

“Well? How is it?” You ask eagerly.

Charles clears his throat. “It’s, uh, it’s great. Your best batch yet,” he lies. In truth, it’s dry and dense, with a strange bitter aftertaste. But the delight on your face makes the fib worth it.

You throw your arms around him in a hug. “Yay! I can’t wait to share them with the team this weekend.”

Charles’ stomach drops. The thought of the entire paddock pretending to enjoy your baking makes him cringe internally. But he plasters on a smile. “What a nice idea! I’m sure they’ll love them.”

The two of you arrive at the circuit and you can barely contain your excitement as you carry a large container of cupcakes into the paddock. Charles trails behind you, backpack slung over one shoulder, his other arm wrapped around your waist. He presses a quick kiss to your temple before you flit off to distribute your baked goods.

You first approach Max Verstappen, holding out a cupcake with rainbow sprinkles. “Here Max, have one!”

Max eyes the treat dubiously but accepts it with a polite smile. “Thanks Y/N, that’s really nice of you.”

You beam and turn to Charles, missing the look of apprehension on Max’s face. Charles catches Max’s eye and draws a finger across his throat in warning. Max’s eyes widen but he nods in understanding. Charles won’t let anything ruin your mood today.

You make your way through the paddock, handing cupcakes to mechanics, engineers, PR reps, reporters, team principals, and drivers. Charles hovers behind you, keeping a watchful eye on each recipient.

Daniel Ricciardo visibly gags on his first bite when you turn away. Charles glares and shakes his head sharply. Daniel rearranges his face into a smile and gives a thumbs up.

Lando Norris takes an overly large bite and Charles has to pound on his back as he chokes it down.

Esteban Ocon discreetly spits his cupcake into a napkin when you’re not looking. Charles lunges forward and grabs his arm, squeezing tightly until Esteban wheezes out “Delicious!”

You remain blissfully unaware of the chaos that falls over the paddock in your wake, oblivious to Charles’ desperate interventions. All you see are your friends and acquaintances enjoying your baking.

When you finally offer a cupcake to Charles, he takes it and eats the whole thing without hesitation. Because even if it tastes like sugary sawdust, the delight on your face makes it the best treat in the world.

“Wasn’t that fun?” You gush to Charles afterwards. “I can’t wait to try out a new recipe soon!”

Charles just kisses your frosting-smudged nose and says, “I can’t wait either, mon amour.” As long as you’re happy, he’ll choke down all the questionable cupcakes you offer. Because your smile is the only thing that matters.

***

The paddock is bustling with activity as you and Charles arrive for the next race weekend, yet another batch of fresh baked goods in hand. You’re eager to share your latest creations — classic chocolate chunk cookies. You spent hours carefully following the recipe, determined to get them just right.

As you make your rounds distributing cookies, the reactions are the usual mix of forced smiles and discreet spitting. Charles trails behind you, glaring at anyone who doesn’t immediately rave about how delicious they are. The drivers and mechanics quickly catch on, showering you with praise and shooting Charles grateful looks when he turns you away.

You finally offer a cookie to Graham, a mechanic from the Mercedes team. He takes it hesitantly, eyeing Charles standing behind you. But Graham is new to the paddock and unaware of the baked goods situation.

He takes a bite and immediately grimaces. “Ugh, these taste terrible!” He blurts out.

You gasp, stumbling back as if struck. Tears well up in your eyes. Charles is at your side in an instant, pulling you into a comforting hug. Over your shoulder, he shoots Graham a look of absolute rage.

Graham realizes his mistake too late, shame washing over his face. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean ...” he stammers. But you’re already pulling away from Charles and rushing off, sobbing.

Charles turns on Graham, eyes blazing. “How could you? All she ever wants to do is make others happy!” Graham cowers before him, other mechanics backing away nervously.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” Graham says miserably.

“Sorry isn’t good enough,” Charles snarls. “You stay away from her, you hear me?” Graham nods shakily. Satisfied the message is received, Charles races after you.

He finds you behind the garage, face buried in your hands. “Oh mon ange,” Charles murmurs, wrapping you in his arms. “Don’t listen to him, your cookies are perfect.”

You cling to Charles, sniffling. “I just wanted to do something nice for everyone. But I’m so horrible at baking!”

Charles tilts your chin up. “You listen to me. You have the biggest, kindest heart. It doesn’t matter if the cookies are a little, er, overdone. What matters is you put love into making them. Don’t let someone like Graham get you down.”

You smile tremulously. “Have I told you lately that you’re the best boyfriend ever?”

Charles grins. “Hmm, I don’t mind hearing it again.” Laughing through your tears, you tell him again, punctuating it with a kiss.

After ensuring you’re okay, Charles seeks out Graham. “I trust you’ll be more considerate going forward?” Graham nods meekly. “Good. But just so we’re clear, if you upset her again, you’ll be out of this paddock for good.”

The next day, the news breaks that Graham has been dismissed from the Mercedes team for “attitude issues.” You feel a bit guilty, hoping your cookies didn’t cause him to lose his job. But Charles seems strangely satisfied, so you don’t dwell on it.

From then on, Charles redoubles his efforts to protect your feelings whenever you provide baked goods. The paddock falls in line, fawning over your overly salty pretzels and dry banana bread.

The brightness of your smile makes it all worth it to Charles. Because keeping that joy and kindness shining in you is what matters most to him.

***

You step out of Charles’ Ferrari, the engine purring as he puts it in park. Taking his hand, you smile excitedly — today is another fan meetup organized by the team, and you can’t wait to connect with Charles’ supporters again.

“Are you ready, mon cœur?” Charles asks, squeezing your hand gently. His green eyes crinkle at the corners as he looks at you adoringly.

“Absolutely!” You chirp, patting the large picnic basket hanging off your arm. “I made lots of treats to share today!”

Charles grins and leans in to kiss your forehead. “I’m sure they will love everything you made, as always.”

You beam, bolstered by his encouragement as you both make your way to the event. The meetup is being held in a local park, with tents and tables set up amongst the lush green grass and towering trees. You spot a long line of fans waiting eagerly for Charles’ arrival. Most are dressed in the familiar rosso corsa of Ferrari, holding posters and memorabilia for him to sign.

“Charles! Charles!” They chant excitedly when they see him. You hang back happily, letting him have his moment with his dedicated supporters. Charles takes selfies, signs autographs, and chats animatedly in Italian, French, and English. The fans are thrilled to interact with their racing idol.

After some time, Charles waves you over. “I would like you all to meet someone very special to me,” he announces, wrapping an arm around you. The fans erupt into cheers and applause. “This is Y/N, my love.”

You blush at the attention but manage to give a little wave. “Hi everyone! I’m so happy to be here today.”

Charles addresses the crowd again. “As some of you know, Y/N loves to bake and has brought some special treats to share with you all today.”

This is met with more enthusiastic cheers. Though none of them particularly enjoy your baked goods, the fans appreciate the effort and know Charles likes to reward them for humoring you.

You open up your large picnic basket, beaming with pride. “I made my favorite oatmeal raisin cookies, some lemon squares, and my famous rocky road fudge!”

The fans try not to visibly cringe, lining up politely with plates held out. You happily distribute your overly dry, burnt cookies and gooey, cloying fudge. The lemon squares are mushy and saccharine. But the fans accept it all with smiles and encouragement.

“Mmm, delicious!” One teenage girl forces out through a mouthful of your fudge.

An older man gives you a thumbs up as he chokes down a cookie, eyes watering. “So good!”

You beam, pleased that they enjoy your baking so much. As you chat with each person, you don’t notice Charles discreetly handing out autographed photos, caps, and other prized memorabilia to reward the fans for their efforts.

After you’ve handed out all your baked goods, Charles suggests a stroll through the park gardens. As you walk hand-in-hand admiring the flowers, he says softly, “You have such a big heart, Y/N. The way you care so much about connecting with the fans means the world to me.”

You squeeze his hand gratefully. “It’s the least I can do — they support you in everything, so I want to support them too.”

Charles stops and turns to you, his expression tender. “You are amazing, truly. I’m the luckiest man in the world.” He leans in and kisses you sweetly. Your heart flutters just like the first time your lips met.

When you return from your walk, the event is winding down. You say goodbye to the fans, who thank you profusely for the treats and making their day so special. You tell them you can’t wait to bake for them again soon!

After the last fan leaves, it’s just you and Charles. The late afternoon sun casts golden light on the empty picnic tables.

“Did you have fun, mon amour?” Charles asks, caressing your cheek.

“The best time!” You say enthusiastically. “I just love baking for your wonderful fans and seeing how it makes them smile.”

Charles’ eyes are full of love. He kisses the top of your head. “As long as it makes you happy, that’s all that matters to me.”

You snuggle into his chest happily. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

“I don’t think so,” Charles teases. “Why don’t you remind me again?”

You grin up at him. “I’ll tell you over dinner … I have a new donut recipe I want to try out.”

Charles fights down a grimace as he reminds himself that your love is more than worth suffering through another dreadful dessert. “I can’t wait!”

***

“Mate, you have to stop her before she poisons someone,” Max whispers urgently to Charles as you step out of the room.

Charles furrows his brow. “What are you talking about?”

“Your girlfriend. Her baking. It’s … it’s just terrible. I’m sorry, but it has to be said.”

Charles lets out a dismissive chuckle. “Oh come on, it’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad?” Max raises his eyebrows incredulously. “I chipped a tooth on her brownie last week!”

Charles rubs the back of his neck awkwardly as he avoids making eye contact.

“Look, I get that you don’t want to upset her,” Max continues, his voice lowering conspiratorially. “But we can’t keep lying and pretending it’s good! One of these days, someone is going to end up in the hospital.”

Charles sighs deeply, running a hand through his tousled hair. “What do you want me to do? If I tell her the truth, she’ll be devastated.”

You return to the room then, a bright smile on your face as you carry a plate of freshly baked apple tarts. “Who wants one?”

Max cringes almost imperceptibly while Charles shoots him a warning look. “They look great, ma belle!” He says with forced enthusiasm, taking one and bringing it to his lips.

The apple filling is gelatinous and tastes faintly of soap. Charles forces himself to swallow it with a strained smile. Max quickly declines when you offer him one.

Later that evening, Charles finds Max alone outside his apartment building. “I need your help,” he admits defeatedly.

Max looks at him expectantly.

“With Y/N’s baking … how do I get her to stop without completely crushing her?”

His friend contemplates this for a moment. “Well … you could try convincing her to take up a new hobby instead?”

Charles shakes his head. “I’ve suggested that before, but she’s dead set on baking. It’s her biggest passion.”

“Okay, then you’ll have to take a different approach.” Max strokes his chin thoughtfully. “What if … you told her a bunch of us were going vegan or something, so she couldn’t bake for us anymore?”

Charles raises an eyebrow at the suggestion, but then slowly nods. “You know, that could actually work …”

The next day, you eagerly bring a fresh batch of blueberry muffins to the paddock to share with everyone. Charles takes a deep breath before pulling you aside gently.

“Hey, can I talk to you about something?” He starts, trying to keep his expression neutral.

You blink up at him curiously. “Of course. What’s up?”

“Well …” He clears his throat. “I was talking to the guys and … Lewis has actually convinced a bunch of them to go vegan. Lando, Max …”

He lists off a dozen more names, watching as realization dawns on your face. Your shoulders slump slightly.

“Oh … I see.” You glance down at the muffins in your hands. “I guess that means I can’t really bake for them anymore.”

Charles feels a pang of guilt at the disappointment in your eyes. But then, your expression brightens again.

“I’ll just have to start baking vegan treats instead!” You declare happily. “This is so exciting, I’ve been wanting to experiment with more plant-based ingredients!”

Charles’s shoulders tense as the plan epically backfires. Of course you’d take this as an opportunity to bake even more.

Over the next few weeks, you gleefully embrace the vegan baking lifestyle. Charles has to smother his laughter when Max nearly chokes biting into one of your “chewy” vegan brownies. Lando spits out a mouthful of your gritty vegan chocolate cake when you’re not looking.

You, however, remain blissfully unaware of how dreadful your creations are. No matter how many hints Charles tries to drop, the problem only seems to be getting worse.

One evening, you set a plate of fresh-from-the-oven vegan peanut butter cookies on the coffee table, plopping down on the couch next to Charles with a proud grin.

“Try one!” You insist, picking a cookie up and holding it in front of his lips.

Charles hesitates for just a second too long. Your face falls and he scrambles to take a bite, barely suppressing a wince as he chews on what feels like a solid lump of chalk mixed with peanut shavings. He forces himself to swallow it down with an enthusiastic grin.

“Wow, these are incredible!” He lies through his teeth. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

You perk up immediately, the dejected look vanishing. “You really think so? I tried a new recipe I found online.”

“Definitely a winner,” Charles affirms, trying his best to sound convincing. “We should bring some to the paddock for everyone to try.”

Your eyes light up at the suggestion and guilt twists in Charles’s gut. The last thing he wants is for the other drivers to have to suffer through these … confections. But he could never be the one to shatter your baking dreams.

The next day at the track, you eagerly pass around the plate of peanut butter hockey pucks to the drivers and crew. Charles discreetly pulls Max aside with a pained look.

“Please, I’m begging you …” he murmurs under his breath. “Just smile and nod, no matter how bad they are.”

Max grimaces as he takes an experimental bite of one of the cookies, his expression doing little to mask his revulsion. But he meets Charles’s pleading gaze and forces out a strangled, “Mmm … great!”

One by one, the others follow suit — fake smiles and strained praises as they choke down your baked atrocities. You remain obliviously pleased, unaware of their suffering.

Over the next few weeks, the vegan baking experiments only seem to get worse and worse. The paddock has become a silent circle of culinary martyrs — all sworn to an unspoken code to preserve your feelings at all costs.

You proudly present a tray of charcoal-colored muffins that leave the entire garage coughing from the plume of burnt flour. “Tried a new recipe for dark chocolate avocado muffins!” You explain brightly.

“Can’t wait to dig in,” Lando is close to crying, his eyes already watering.

Charles has to bite back a laugh as Max takes a heroic bite, barely managing to keep it together. He pats the Dutchman on the back firmly as the poor guy fights back a gag reflex.

“Two more words about her baking and you’ll be racing with three wheels next season,” he warns Carlos in a low mutter after witnessing the Spaniard nearly vomit up a slice of your “moist” vegan zucchini bread.

The sheer willpower it takes for the entire crew to maintain the facade is almost impressive. Technique and strategy meetings have now become immense displays of unspoken fortitude — everyone driven by the simple goal of not letting you catch on that your baked goods are, in fact, completely inedible.

Charles has started bringing backup protein bars and shakes to every race just to make sure nobody accidentally lapses into baked good-induced delirium.

He really has no idea how much longer this can possibly be sustained. But he also has no idea how to safely extract the situation without demolishing your passion and self-confidence in the process.

For now, his main objective is to ensure your bright smile and cheerfulness remain unchanged — no matter how many mouths he has to personally silence to make that happen.

At the end of the day, having you by his side, radiating that infectious joy and following your heart’s desire, is worth enduring all the subpar vegan muffins in the world.

He’ll take a bite of your latest abomination with an adoring grin, because that’s what partners who truly love each other do — they support each other through the good, the bad, and the burnt-to-a-crisp.

***

It’s the start of a new season, and Charles has been racking his brain for a solution to the ongoing baking saga. As much as he loves indulging your passion, the charade is becoming increasingly difficult to maintain. The entire paddock is at their wits’ end trying to choke down your vegan torture devices week after week.

That’s when he has an idea — one he hopes will be a win-win for everyone involved.

“Surprise!” He says with an excited grin, presenting you with the envelopes. “I got us signed up for this baking course. I thought it could be fun for us to take some classes together!”

You’re beaming as you throw your arms around his neck. “That’s such a thoughtful idea! I would love nothing more.”

Of course, Charles being Charles is hardly fully forthright about his motivations. “To be honest, I’m the one who really needs the help,” he fibs sheepishly. “We all know I’m a disaster in the kitchen. But with your talents guiding me, maybe there’s hope!”

Over the next few weeks, you and Charles diligently show up for your baking classes. The instructor walks you through fundamentals like properly measuring ingredients, controlling oven temperatures, and mastering technical skills. Slowly but surely, your creations start emerging looking (and smelling) better and better.

One evening, you return home with a fresh tray of beautifully baked chocolate chip cookies — the first delicacy you’ve felt confident enough to bake since the lessons. You present them to Charles with bated breath.

He takes one tentative bite, his eyes widening in surprise. These are actually ... edible! More than edible — they are legitimately delicious! The dough-to-chip ratio is perfect, the texture is chewy but not dry or crumbly. He quickly stuffs two more into his mouth with an appreciative moan.

“Ma belle … these are incredible!” He gasps out between bites.

You clap your hands over your mouth, eyes shining with glee. “Oh my gosh, you really think so? I was so nervous!”

“Are you kidding? I could eat this entire tray all by myself!”

The two of you dissolve into celebratory laughter and hugs, the sweet taste of success quite literally on your tongues.

“I think it’s time for the real taste test,” you declare one day, rolling up your sleeves as you start prepping an array of fresh baked goods. “We’re taking these bad boys to the paddock!”

The next race weekend, you stride in carrying bakery boxes of your fresh chocolate chip cookies as well as some decadent fudge brownies.

“Fresh out of the oven!” You announce proudly, setting them down with a bright grin. “Who’s hungry?”

For a long beat, nobody moves. The drivers exchange wary glances, their self-preservation instincts kicking in as they recall the many baking debacles of the past. Lando bravely reaches for a brownie first, his face scrunched up preemptively-

Only to blink in surprise as the rich, fudgy flavor hits his taste buds. His eyes widen comically as he takes another bite. “Bloody hell ... this is actually good!”

The words seem to shatter the suspended tension. Soon the entire paddock is swarming the trays, devouring the fresh baked goods with delight. Charles watches on in disbelief, his own taste buds experiencing flavors he didn’t even know were possible from your former creations.

He sees Max take a bite of one of the cookies, freezing in place as his eyes slip closed with an expression of pure bliss. When they open again, Charles is alarmed to see they’re glistening with unshed tears.

The Dutchman wordlessly holds up the cookie, gazing at Charles reverently as a lone tear trails down his cheek. Then, to everyone’s astonishment, he brings the baked good to his lips and takes another sensual bite, savoring it like it’s the first good thing he’s ever tasted.

From then on, it’s like a switch has been flipped. The paddock that once dreaded your baking now seemingly can’t get enough of it. Every race weekend, they await your fresh creations with unrestrained enthusiasm, like kids on a sugar bender.

Charles has lost count of how many times he’s caught drivers and crew sneaking off to wherever you’re prepping the latest batch, nostrils flaring as they try to scout out that heavenly aroma.

It’s gotten to the point where Max’s performance coach has had to implement strict rules about his treat consumption to prevent indulgences from derailing his season.

“Easy there, Max!” Rupert calls in a booming tone, swooping in to physically restrain the Dutchman as he makes a mad dash toward where you’re unpacking that week’s fresh delivery. “You know you have a limit on those.”

Max strains against his performance coach’s grip, eyes zeroing in on the platter of goodies being unloaded with unrestrained longing. “I don’t care, she brought triple chocolate cookie dough brownies this time! Let me go!”

Rupert grunts in exertion, struggling to keep his driver in check. “This is for your own good! Think of your diet!”

“That’s irrelevant!” Max practically snarls, pupils blown wide like an addict suffering from withdrawals. “Do you have any idea how long I waited to have real baked goods again?”

It’s a battle of wills and metabolism that quickly becomes a weekly sight. Charles can’t help but chuckle fondly as he watches Max and Rupert’s familiar tug-of-war happen like clockwork every Sunday.

As much as he’d love to intervene, he knows better than to come between Max and your heavenly baked creations. He’s just thrilled that this baking journey took such a delicious turn — both for your invigorated culinary passion and for the safety of everyone’s tastebuds.

Honestly, he’ll take the sight of a feverish Max drooling over freshly baked goods any day over having to choke down burnt muffins and brittle biscuits. This is the sweet upgrade everyone had been dreaming about.

The true recipe for happiness was sticking by each other’s side through all those halfbaked stumbles.

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louebel · 1 year ago

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— [ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 . . . 𝟐 .ᐟ ]

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: sanji, zoro, mihawk, buggy × gn!reader 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: not proofread and rushed,, it's not as wholesome as the first and more calm + horny my bad, lowercase, gets a bit explicit with sanji and buggy at the end... i am deeply sorry not. rest is sfw, fluff, and... fluff. usage of "baby, sweetness, honey, good boy" (and... others? i forgot) in all of them except zoro's, lots of caresses and kisses! these are rather short,, anddd dripping divider by @ benkeibear :) 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you couldn't help but share the sudden warmth you felt with them, resulting in... a lot of kisses! ... and more. part one is here!! though idk should i repost it? since it's in my archived blog— eh idk maybe not.

— 𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈, wc. 699

"sanji... honey..."

a very pleasant smell engulfed the kitchen. sweet and homely, a dish that piqued your appetite. seagulls could be heard outside the sunny, the sun rising slowly to greet all those who continued their lives.

and then there were you two, already awake. sanji always got up earlier, and so you did too, wanting to keep him company at such early hours. you could still hear sanji's wails and the rivers of tears plopping onto the wood at your kind gestures, and you swore you saw the sunny sweatdrop that day. (you were definitely not imagining things...)

"hmm? yes, love?"

his voice was your greatest weakness. freshly awake, groggy with sleep... if only you could both rest right now — what you'd do to feel him tend to your scalp, brushing his treasured fingers upon you, perhaps humming a tune in your ears. you remembered his words: "because my love for you is so profound, i can't contain it" and now, every time he murmurs, you melt a little more, thinking of what he said. of course, not all the time, sometimes he just does it.

sadly, however, you couldn't go back to sleep. he had to cook, and he was going to treat you with the most delicious, mouthwatering breakfast ever, but you'd still be disappointed since what you wanted was... something else. you were so spoiled...

"i think i could get something else for breakfast... it's fine, right?"

now, you know sanji despised wasting food. it wouldn't really be a problem considering luffy, but... why didn't you say anything?

he glanced at you from his shoulder, a bit perplexed. he felt his heart flutter as you approached him, wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing your face on his tender nape.

"sweetness?"

"... those are definitely sweet," you pointed at the pancakes, already smiling, "but i think you're sweeter."

it was only morning, damnit. and yet here he was, already blushing, cheeks tinted a lovely shade of pink. a small chuckle rumbled from his chest, the cook lowering the heat as the first batch was ready, before turning to you and pressing a tender kiss upon your forehead.

"you do, love?"

"mhm. and, you know, i'd really like if you gave me some of your love right now. i think that's the most sweet... 'm thinking about just sitting here and kissing you all over while telling you "i love you, i love you, i love you" ," you brought his hand to your chest, smiling at how his visible eye softened. "feels really warm right here, just thinking 'bout it..." you were so wonderful that sanji might just die on the spot.

"oh, love... you can't just say those things so early..."

"hmm? and why not?"

"... m—might faint."

fainting in your arms didn't sound so bad though, he thought dreamily.

"ppff... if you faint, i won't shower you with kisses."

"i won't faint."

you giggled at his suddenly determined tone. tenderly brushing your lips around the side of his neck, you nudged his jaw, sliding your hands under his shirt, feeling him tense beneath your skimming fingers. his flesh felt firmer to the touch, lineaments of his abdomen and torso defined with each part you mapped.

"hmm... i love you so much, sanji. really love you, hon."

"... a—ah, getting handsy, aren't you?"

you loved how he got so flustered with just a couple of touches. he shuddered as you placed your hand on the crook of his neck, pulse quickening beneath your thumb. he was rather sensitive, there, too...

"you— you know, i, hnngh, think you're the sweetest..." he whimpered, his slender fingers finding your tantalizing ones.

"hmmm? is that so, honey?"

"y—yes — ohh... love..."

you were gliding dangerously lower...

"mmm... you're so hard, sanji." oh... "i think you should relax a bit before cooking..." oh my... "it's so early... you need proper rest." ba-dump.

"... i—i do, don't i? heh... hehe..."

"yeah, you do. come on... i'll show you just how sweet i am. will give you all my love. you want that, baby?"

"oh, ooh please... goodness, don't—don't hold back, mon ange..."

"mhm... good boy. relax..."

and soft moans soon filled the piquant kitchen — followed by smooches, wet sounds, and declarations of love from both ends.

you truly were the sweetest in his eyes.

— 𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐀 𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎, wc. 388

"zoro... your face looks pretty kissable today."

sometimes, zoro had no idea what went through your head. you've both been sitting on the deck, zoro against the mast and you lying your head on his lap. he was going to take a nap but it seemed you were feeling chatty, so he decided to entertain you for a little while before he dozed off.

he had no idea what you were thinking, but he liked it.

"does it?" he mumbled, gazing down at you to see you shift in his lap, eyebrow raising as you got up and cuddled to his side, chin on his shoulder. he tilted his head slightly, seeing your pupils dilating at the sight of him; already quite big as the sun was setting. he smirked, though the expression on your face only made his heart beat faster.

you looked completely smitten.

"yep. very."

"hmm..."

smooch. smooch. smooch.

"oi..."

and he probably did, too, in his own way. he couldn't see it, but you did. how he relaxed, how he so softly sighed. you smiled, realizing just how much he laid himself bare to you. it wasn't the same trust he shared with luffy, no. it was something more intimate. something... sweeter. and with each osculate to his neck and jaw, zoro loosened just a bit further, his consciousness slowly slipping away.

"hm. thought you said my face." yet, he still taunted you, with that stupid smug grin on his lips. you rolled your eyes, continuing to pamper him with love.

"shut up. mm..."

smooch.

"love you, zoro. so much."

you slowly pushed him down on the floor, the swordsman tensing a little before following your silent command. you lay on his body, his arms splayed on the wood, eye closed as you kissed his eyelid, brow, and nose. a reddish hue colored his cheeks, chuckling as your tiny, adoring pecks tickled his skin.

so lovely.

" 'that so..?"

"yeah."

your eyes mitigated further, noting the corners of his mouth curve up more. you were lucky...

"mhh... y'know, i think you look pretty kissable today, too."

he'll rearrange his naps, just for you. with a kiss to your lips, he sealed the unspoken "i love you" with his tender actions — his heart all yours.

and he'd care for your own... like one of his swords.

— 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊, wc. 338

perona was speechless. she knew, she knew. she knew that you were dracule's lover...

"miiiiihaaawk... will you look at me?"

but what she witnessed was as surprising as the first time you told her that.

you grinned at the sighing warlord, shutting his book as you've been pestering him for minutes. arms wrapped around him, kisses to his neck — he wasn't a man easily swayed, even by you. the armchair leaned back as he finally eased, your form against his soft.

"... do you have nothing to do?" he huffed, rather tired of your games. interrupting him was almost sin; perona had no idea how you lived. were these the privileges of being dracule mihawk's partner? he treated you so differently... how could you even fall for someone as brooding as him? every time she did something nice, like give him pastries or clean the castle as she had nothing to do, he'd ignore her completely. (though he appreciated it.)

"i do. i'm loving you." yet here he was, letting you speak and do as you wished with a faint smile on his face. he looked like a big cat.

"something other than that."

"hmm... no. i wanna love you right now."

the longer she watched from her little corner, the more her mind crumbled.

"... you're impossible."

"but you love me too. like how i love you. i love you a lot."

you were so... mushy. something that did not connect to mihawk at all — unless you were around. his actions conveyed what he felt, even if they were scarce at the moment.

"you..."

"like, a looot. you know? a lot. i really do."

but... no words would topple from his mouth, perona was sure of that.

"i reciprocate." incredibly sure.

"c'mon, say it." there was no way.

"... i love you too."

"there you go. good boy."

he could only sigh at your antics — though inside he felt as warm as a star. after that, perona left her hiding spot and dragged her jaw that sat on the floor.

— 𝐁𝐔𝐆𝐆𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐍, wc. 426

buggy was not happy.

he was not happy you gave him a kiss, in front of his whole crew, completely unbothered as you pretty much established he was yours. he did not like it. at all.

"just..! what do you think you're doing?! kissing me out of nowhere? they have no idea we're together! what if someone took a photo!—"

"did i tell you?"

"—tell me what?"

you chuckled while he blinked. it was always funny how simple it was to make him stop; one word and he'd immediately listen to you. it was as if his own temporarily had no weight, just to hear your own thoughts, only to slander them later or actually agree with them.

most of the time, he ended up stuttering. you loved how much he hated you teasing him; it became your favorite pastime.

"you look incredibly cute." your grin always meant trouble.

"my nose looks redder than usual??"

your chuckle the last sound he heard,

"no. you, look, cute. cute. adorable. precious." and your words forever his downfall.

you could see his cheeks gaining color, a pretty rouge that matched his lipstick and nose, mirth decorating your face at the view. he was just so, so so cute. but when he snorted and flailed his hands around with parts of his body floating at the use of his devil fruit... that's when he got even cuter.

"y—you say that all the time!" he squeaked and pointed at you, stomping closer to you to somehow look "threatening". in reality, he was just a cub. you kept on smiling, looking at him with an adoring gaze that managed to make his poor heart stop — your affection a treat he relished.

"i mean it." plus, when your voice had that adoring tone... he could do nothing but take what you said. maybe he was just making a big deal out of things...

"w—well! of course you mean it, hahaha! i'm... buggy the... aah..."

his eyes almost popped out of his sockets as you got closer to him; wrapping your arms around his waist, teeth nibbling his neck. a tiny, soft moan that made you shudder left buggy's lips, already trembling.

oh...

"... mm... love you so much, baby. 'm sure they don't mind the kiss... come here."

he could barely get a word in, before his squeals and whimpers reached even those outside, as all of his skin got caressed by your lips. soon, he was screaming "i love you too!" and your stunt was the last thing he thought about.

#one piece x reader #op x reader #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x you #sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji x reader #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x reader #mihawk x reader #mihawk x y/n #mihawk x you #buggy x reader #buggy x y/n

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crashandlivewrites · 1 year ago

Text

Spread Your Wings- Part 1

This came from some very, very horny brainrot from a porn star by the name of Manuel Ferrara and got me thinking. And writing.

Pairing: PornStar!John Price x PornStar!fem!reader

Summary: Porn wasn't your ideal career choice, but here you were. Your manager has just contacted you saying a veteran of the field has requested to work with you as he winds down his career. The only issue? You've definitely gotten yourself off to him multiple times, leaving your professionalism in question. And John, well, John's not helping the situaiton with how he treats you.

CW: MDNI 18+ content, NSFW, porn industry inaccuracies, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), fantasy relationship, John being an absolute munch (duh), consent and check ins (because John is responsible in every universe)

Word Count: 4.9k

Part 2 >

Read on Ao3

It wasn’t your first career choice, nor your second, third, or fourth. In fact, if you were honest with yourself, it was never even a thought. Yet here you were, several performances into your adult entertainment career and on a steady rise with a decent paycheque along with it. But you were yet to experience a big break, one that would just allow you to feel a little more settled, give you the standing to be pickier with the roles you selected to film. And you had feeling that this next one was going to be that breakthrough.

Holding your phone in your hand, you read and re-read the message from your manager that he’d sent you earlier in the day.

Got a personal request to film with you. John Price. Details listed below.

John Price. John fucking Price. That man practically owned the porn industry. One of the most popular male actors for almost the past couple of decades. You’d be lying to yourself if you hadn’t done a deep dive or two into his repertoire of videos on long, lonely nights with a bottle of wine and some toys to accompany you. Porn was one thing. John Price porn was another. He was older, hot, and had thick, veiny, mouthwatering cock that made you squeeze your thighs together every time you saw it. But that wasn’t what had drawn you back to his videos time and time again. It was the way he seemed almost… tender. Rough, to be sure. But also, sweet.

And he wanted to film with you. You. He had only released a few videos in the past year, slowly winding down his career to instead focus on his hobbies and other interests. Or at least that’s what his team had told the media.

The document your manager had attached to the text was a simple call sheet with the basic run down of the shoot. It was nothing you hadn’t done before. In fact, it seemed vanilla in comparison to most porn, but that’s what John Price was known for. Soft sex. Romantic sex. Pussy pleasing— if you wanted to be a little crass, but that was the reason he was a massive hit with the audience. You’d also heard from other co-stars that he was incredible to work with. Charming, attentive, and made sure his partners always felt comfortable.

And he requested you?

That was the part that stunned you the most. You stared at the two names on the call sheet, his name directly next to yours under the subheading ‘cast’. You blinked, wondering if you’d imagined it. But your name remained, and you were meeting with him in— you glanced at the time and swore. Less than an hour before you had to be on site and the drive took a good twenty minutes on a good day.

Hopping into the shower, you knew you’d have time to prep on site, but there was something in you that wanted to make a good impression on your costar, craved making a good impression to someone as decorated and well-respected as John Price in the industry.

***

As your manager was walking with you to the meeting room, you realised you’d never actually met John Price before. Sure, you’d seen him around at a few work events, but he was a rare sight at social gatherings these days. You could feel the nerves bubbling underneath your skin as your manager scrolled on his phone, muttering comments under his breath as he went.

“Pretty much one of his last videos. Or at least that’s what his manager said. I’m honestly surprised he chose you over someone more well known, but it’s great for your career.” The subtle dig wasn’t missed on you, but there was some truth to your manager’s words, and you’d been thinking the exact same. Why had he chosen to work with you, someone practically unknown to him? Maybe it was a question you’d never have an answer to as you stopped outside of the door, fixing your hair unconsciously before pushing the door open.

He was already in the room, sitting next to his own manager, Kate if you remembered correctly, with the director at the head of the table. Smiling at the group, you ducked your head and mumbled a couple of apologies about being late as you hurried to your seat, directly across from him. There was a general murmur from the room acknowledging your apologies before returning to their conversations. You swallowed thickly as you raised your head, meeting his deep blue eyes as he stared at you, the corners crinkled as a wide smile stretched over his face, a smile, it seemed, that was just for you.

“Hey sweetheart, lovely to meet you. I’m John.” He spoke lowly, quietly, as though to the of you were sharing a secret. His voice was rough but soothing, exactly like it had been in all the videos you’d watched of him. Crossing your legs, you held out your hand to shake his with your own shy grin as you introduced yourself.

“It’s an honour to be working with you, John.” It wasn’t a lie. You had a lot to gain from working with him. Just having your name on the call sheet was enough to open doors for you. The director was Nikolai, who you’d never worked with before, but you knew he was a good friend of John’s. He also shook your hand before getting the meeting underway, outlying the expectations, and going over the general script. There wasn’t much to the story, like most of John’s scenes, but you weren’t complaining. Little story meant less lines to remember and John tended to improv. Next was an overall brief of safety, a rundown of yours and John’s likes and dislikes during scenes before everything started to wrap up.

Once signing the consent forms, your manager stood up, nodding to you as he collected the form along with Kate and Nikolai.

“I’ll leave you two to it.” He spoke. Your brows furrowed, feeling your heart race as you glanced over at John who shot you a warm smile.

“John prefers to talk to his scene partners one on one beforehand.” Kate explained, patting her colleague on the shoulder. “Something he’s always done. Allows you to get to know each other a little better.”

“Oh.” Your voice was small, but you nodded as the trio left the room, leaving you alone with someone you’ve gotten off to before.

“I know it’s a little unconventional, but I feel like it smooths things out for the scene.” He explains gently, pouring two glasses of water and passing one to you. “I’ve seen your work. You’re good. I liked the one you did with Johnny.” People often think that working in adult entertainment rids you of awkward modesty, but here you were, face heating and glancing away from the older man as he fully admitted to watching your scenes and was complimenting you on your performance.

Your scene with Johnny had been enjoyable, which had been a rare occurrence in your experience in the field. It was a job after all, not filled with screaming pleasure like scenes often displayed. But Johnny had made it easy, fun. Kept the mood lighthearted during the retakes and scene cuts.

“It’s probably been one of my favourites to date. Johnny was good to work with. I know you’ve worked with him before.” John nodded.

“A couple of times for threesomes and gang bangs when he was first starting out. But I stopped doing group scenes once he got on his feet. Wasn’t really my thing.” He shrugged, eyes carefully watching you even as he lifted the glass to his mouth. You hummed, pursing your lips, and interlocking your fingers. Letting out a huff, John placed the glass down and reached out, resting one of his large hands over yours, thumb caressing your knuckles.

“You’re okay, sweetheart. I know the reputation my name can bring but I assure you, anything you’re not comfortable with, it’s off the table.” Your shoulders relaxed as your head lifted, a genuine smile on your face.

“Thanks, John. I just… you’re very seasoned in the field.” You winced at the word choice, but he chuckled, standing up to walk around the table and take a seat next to you.

“With my expertise comes the ability to adjust things to my liking. It’s why I work with Nikolai. He knows how I work, lets me run the show really and works his mastery by getting the angles that make me look mildly flattering.”

“You’re flattering from all angles, John.” At the compliment, he raised his brow, eyes trailing down your body for a moment before snapping back up to yours.

“Seen my work, have you?” He teased, the smile turning cocky as he leaned back in his chair, rested his cheek on his fist. You shot him a look of your own, which answered everything. “So, you know how I tend to conduct my scenes?”

“You like to please your viewers.” You answered confidently (answering questions about your scene partners sex scenes is something both normal to want and possible to do, right? You might even get a good grade.) “Your tendency to lean towards softer sex brings in a more female-dominant audience.” The smile reaches his eyes, lighting them up in a way you found particularly charming.

“I like to please pussy. An important distinction.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s why I became more selective about my scene partners.”

You were thankful your legs were already crossed over, covering the urge to squeeze your thighs together at the lowering of his tone. A question nagged in the back of your mind. Why you? But you weren’t confident enough to ask it.

“How do you want the scene to run?” You asked instead, turning the conversation back a little more professional. John shrugged.

“I like to let things flow semi-naturally. Enjoy a lot of sensual touching and kissing. I’m getting older so I don’t enjoy the rough and fast constant fucking like I used to. Also, a lot harder to keep it going for that long.” He glanced over at you out of the corner of his eye. “Besides, I find my scene partner enjoys it more when there’s a lot more sensual physical contact involved.”

“And how would you know that?” Your voice was coyer than you felt, leaning towards him as you placed your elbow on the arm rest. His head tilted the expression on his face overwhelmingly cocky as he snorted.

His voice lowered to a velvety purr. I’ve become good at reading people, sweetheart. I can tell the difference when people fake feeling good, and who’s actually into it. If I’m going to spend my time coming into a studio, I want to enjoy the day’s work, and for my partner to as well.”

The hairs on your arms stood on end as his voice lowered, his eyes boring into yours as he waited patiently for you to respond. Running your tongue along the line of your teeth, you processed his words.

“How do you know that we’ll work out, though? We’ve never worked together before. Wouldn’t it be easier doing a scene like this with someone you’re more comfortable with?”

“Sweetheart,” John shuffled forward on the chair, placing a reassuring hand on your thigh, thumb tracing over the inside of your knee. “I’ve watched your work; seen what scenes you feel more comfortable with. Had Kate speak to your manager too, to get an idea of what your preferences were. I think we’ll work out fine.”

“You asked about me?” Your eyes were fixed on where his hand rested, looking at the thickness of his fingers and swallowing.

“I like to know who I’m working with. But I also had to listen to Johnny talk about you for hours after his scene. Thought I should take the buck down a peg and show him how a real veteran pleases a lady.” His breathing was levelled and composed, the complete opposite to yours, allowing him to hear exactly how much he was affecting you. You swallowed thickly as you tried to keep some semblance of professionalism while his thumb rubbed slow circles into your thigh, and you began to worry about the state of your panties.

“It’s porn, John.” You whispered, eyes blinking rapidly as you tried to surreptitiously shift in your seat. “It’s acting, it’s a job.”

“Doesn’t have to be, sweets. Who says you can’t enjoy your work? Especially when you’re good at it, huh?” His smile broadened as he lifted his free hand to smooth over the bristles of his thick beard. Squeezing your thigh one last time before standing up, cupping your chin to ensure your head follows his movements.

“You can back out at any time. Just say the word. But until then, I’ll see you in 30 on set, yeah? You’ll find your uniform in your change-room.” Two fingers tapped your cheek before he stepped out of the room, leaving you alone, hot, and bothered. Thank fuck for the change of clothes. Hopefully you wouldn’t soak through these panties as well, but after all, it is porn.

Taking a bit of time to freshen yourself up, you stood, staring down at the so-called ‘uniform’ John had told you about. A thin satin slip nightdress with some lacy white underwear, bra foregone. You couldn’t help but feel your heart in your throat at the thought of John specifically picking out the piece with you in mind. Surely, he’d done this with all of his costars.

As you thought back to each of his videos, trying to recall what each of them had been wearing, unwarranted jealousy filled your head instead and you squeezed your eyes tight. He was a costar. Nothing more. This was his job. He was many years your senior. It was silly, childish, and petty to get jealous over the other people he’d slept with, especially professionally. But he’d chosen you to film with, and that stirred some primal, possessive part of you, and you slid the silk over you, wondering how thick fingers might rip it off.

A knock at the door pulled you out of your head, snapping you into gear as you changed. Pulling it open, you saw Kate standing there waiting. Her gaze remained professional as she admired the dress.

“It suits you well. John’s always had a good eye for things like that. Come, let’s head to set.” Walking at a steady pace, you kept the conversation flowing.

“Does John usually do things like this?” You pointed down at the dress, trying to keep your tone neutral. Kate laughed lightly, shaking her head.

“Not always. Usually only with his favourites.” She gazed at you out of the corner of her eye. “But he’s so winding down on his career, so maybe he’s just in a generous mood.” There was something in her tone that left you feeling slightly baffled, no closer to understanding the reason why he’d picked this out for you.

Stepping into the studio, the first person you noticed was John, dressed in a button-down shirt with fitted slacks. He whistled lowly, eyes unabashedly roaming over your figure.

“Look at you. Knew that colour would suit you well. Come. The sooner we get started, the sooner we can enjoy ourselves, yeah?” He held out a hand, motioning towards the set.

“You didn’t have to.” You breathed, glancing down at the dress. “But I really appreciate the gesture. Almost makes me feel bad for not getting anything for you.” Taking his hand, he leads you towards the bedroom set, where you were playing his partner in an established relationship, waiting for him to come home late from work.

“The gift is working with you, sweets, and looking so perfect in that dress.” His stare was a little hungrier this time, raking over your body. Squeezing your hand, he stepped back behind the camera as Nikolai motioned for the scene to begin.

***

As you stood leaning over the kitchen bench, you hear John step onto the set, placing down the empty prop briefcase as he sighed heavily.

“Hey, sweetheart. I’m home.” A hand clasped over your hip as he pulled you towards him, burying his face in your neck. Reaching up, you cupped the back of his head, humming softly as you tilted your pelvis back against his. His fingers dug into your hip firmly, a deep rumble in his throat probably not audible enough to be picked up by the microphone.

“Welcome home, honey. Did you have a good day?

“Better now that I’m here.” He replied almost instantly, body hands now cupping your body, breath heavy on your skin as he trailed his fingers up and down the lines of your body. “Especially when my wife is lookin’ so pretty in what I bought her.”

His… wife? That hadn’t been specified in the script. Sure, it said an established relationship, but there was something that stirred inside you at the sound of that word coming from his mouth in reference to you. And so, you played along.

“Gotta make sure I look pretty for my husband, don’t I?” You purred, turning your head to his as you grinned, pressing your lips to his temple, nails dragging over his scalp.

“Always look pretty, lovey. Pretty for me, hmm?” God he really was good at making his costars feel wanted, pinging the right receptors in your brain that craved this for real. You moaned prettily, arching your back for both John and the camera as his hands slid up your front, thick fingers ghosting teasingly over your breasts as he mouthed at your neck. Whimpering, you placed one hand over his, trying to urge his hand down, but he tittered in your ear.

“So desperate, aren’t you? Don’t worry, you’ll get what you want. Just let me play with you first, yeah?” You nodded at him as you glanced over your shoulder. There was no way you were going to say no, not with the way his large hands were running over your body, tugging the pathetic excuse for clothing as he went. Your lashes fluttered as his lips sealed over your neck, sucking softly as he ground his erection into your ass.

God he was already hard. The voice of reason in the back of your head told you he’d most likely taken viagra like a lot of the men did to keep it up for so long, but the fantasy you were playing through your head liked to think it was all you. Letting out another low growl, John bared his teeth, biting into your neck before sucking soothingly.

“No marking!” You heard your manager exclaim in the background, before being hushed by Nikolai.

“Don’t interrupt. He knows what he’s doing.”

As if to spite your manager further, John swept your hair away, latching onto the other side of your neck, drawing out a soft moan as you clung to his short hair, encouraging him further.

“Yes! Please! Mark me as yours.” John presses his weight against you, causing you to fall forward onto your elbows on the bench. Hands cupped the globes of your ass roughly as he pressed a line of kisses down your exposed spine.

“My pretty fuckin’ wife, aren’t ya?” His voice was thick with desire as his fingers teased the hem of your dress, scrunching it up until it lifted over your ass. John groaned as he revealed the swell of your cheeks, the thin straps of the white thong he’d bought barely covering anything. “Look at you. So fuckin’ pretty. Too fuckin’ pretty for me. Can’t believe you married me. I’m so lucky to have you, sweets. Perfect girl f’me ain’t cha?”

Your head was spinning as the words of praise kept coming. Bent over the kitchen bench, ass on display for him, and held down by one of his strong arms made you feel incredibly vulnerable yet secure in a way you hadn’t felt filming before.

“One leg up for me?” He tapped the outside of your thigh, and you hitched it up obediently, knee resting on the bench to expose yourself further to him. John let out a low breath as he sunk to his knees between your spread legs. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see a camera following his movements and so, like you’d been taught, you clenched, causing your clothed cunt to throb for the camera. And for John. You heard him chuckle and glanced over your shoulder to see him staring up at you with a brow raised.

“Cheeky thing.”

His hands ran up the backs of your legs, causing you to shiver in anticipation. His breath was close to where you wanted him and you whined in response, tilting your hips back ever so slightly to display your soaked underwear better for the camera. At that movement, John clicked his tongue and slapped your ass.

“This pussy’s mine, y’hear?” He growled almost possessively, fingers digging into the backs of your thighs, keeping your legs spread for him. “Look at you. So wet and eager for me, huh? Bought you these pretty knickers and you’ve already ruined them.” One finger gently traced along the length of your clothed slit, and you keened, trying to push your hips back to gain more friction, but his other arm wrapped around your hips, pinning them to the cold bench.

“Don’t get greedy now, sweetheart. You’ll get what you want, just let me admire you first.” Already, your legs were trembling as his thumb brushed against your clit. Gasping a little excessively for the camera, you bit your lip, fingers pressing into the stone below you as you felt him lift up the soaked underwear and pull them to the side.

“Oh love.” He cooed, blowing gently on your sensitive, exposed skin. “You’re so wet. Have I been neglecting my duties as your husband? Not been treatin’ my wife right and leaving her desperate and utterly drenched. You been wet and wanting all day, sweets?” Though you couldn’t see his face, you could hear the smirk in his voice, hear the cockiness as even he knew you were this wet for him naturally.

Moaning in affirmation, you shook your ass in his face. “God please… need your mouth on me, sir. Need it so badly.” He chuckled, thumb returning to brush against your clit, this time with no fabric in the way.

“Being so polite, love. You really do want it, huh? My mouth on your pretty pussy? Look at it. So swollen and needy.” Gritting your teeth in impatience, you glanced over your shoulder, meeting his cocky gaze as lips pulled into a smirk.

“Please, I need your mouth on me. I’m so wet for you. Want your tongue in my cunt.” The smirk faded slightly from his face and his eyes narrowed as he stared up at you for a moment. One finger steadily tapped against your thigh as time seemed to ooze by. Gulping, your brows furrowed, unsure if you’d said something wrong, but then he winked and leaned forward, licking a fat stripe up your slit.

Breath hitching at the sudden movement, a broken moan left your lips as your eyes fluttered closed. Your body clenched as your hips twitched, angling them slightly to follow John’s tongue. Chuckling darkly, John whispers into your cunt, your own ears barely able to pick up the words.

“There’s the real you, sweetheart. Gimme more of that.”

The soft whimpering from your mouth just urged him on, his tongue licking broad strokes over your cunt before he slid his fingers between your labia, spreading them to flick the tip of his tongue delicately over your clit. Jumping at the direct stimulation, you tried to pull away from him, but his arm still held firm over your hips.

“None of that now, love. You’ll take what I give you like my good little plaything, yeah?”

“Oh fuck…” You whispered under your breath, eyes fluttering as you nodded. Taking that as permission, he dove back in, lavishing your cunt like he was starved. His tongue dragged up the length of your slit before plunging in to taste you deeply, thumb working over your clit. Then, he kissed his way down so his lips could replace his thumb, sealing themselves over the bundle of nerves, sucking and flicking it at the same time.

The bristles of his facial hair burned the insides of your thighs pleasurably as he buried his face into your wet pussy, nose prodding your hole as his mouth continued to work you over. His hands ran up your legs, caressed the backs of your thighs, and over your ass to spread your cheeks wider, giving him more room to work with.

“John… oh my god John please!” You buried your face into the crook of your elbow as you moaned pitifully, feeling a genuine orgasm rising much faster than you were expecting.

“Lift your head up!” The sharp voice of your manager broke you out of the fantasy and propelled you back to the reality of the moment. You were at work, filming. This wasn’t for personal pleasure; it was meant to be marketable for audiences. Lifting your head up, you tipped it back slightly, putting on a face for the camera as you moaned, not that you needed to fake much with the way John was devouring you.

Snarling at the interruption of your manager, John’s fingers dug tighter into the meat of your ass, tongue swirling around your clit in sharp circles as he groaned, the vibrations running through your body, causing you to press your hips back onto his face. A guttural noise rumbled in his chest as you did so, and he pulled away. John was panting heavily as he stared at you swollen, wet cunt, eagerly twitching and throbbing for more.

“You have no idea how fucking good you taste, do you love?” His voice was gruff, lustful as he ran two fingers through your folds once more, spreading them to reveal your cunt so he could spit, and then plunge two fingers into you. Almost immediately, he hooked them expertly, just right to press insistently against that spongy spot inside you as he trailed soft kisses along your inner thighs. His beard was soaked with your juices, leaving the feeling of sticky wetness behind as he returned to your clit.

Sucking in air, you felt your body beginning to slide over the smooth surface of the bench as your body temperature rose. John’s mouth returned to your sex, teeth gently grazing over the hood of your clit before pressing his tongue against you and sucking. Letting out a high-pitched wail, you felt yourself clenching around his fingers, hips bucking into his mouth as he continued to pleasure you. Unable to find purchase on anything stable, you gripped your own hair, throwing your head back as you moaned loudly, feeling your inevitable climax approaching.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t orgasmed at work before, but it wasn’t common. And when it had happened, it certainly wasn’t this intense. Heart beating rapidly and your breathing quickened as the tandem effort of his fingers and mouth brought you closer. John could tell too, with the way he kept the same rhythm of his fingers and mouth, letting out muffled groans when he felt your pussy squeeze around his digits. You felt your entire body clenching before spasming, your orgasm rushing through your body as you twitched and jerked uncontrollably.

“Fuck John… fuck!” You moaned lewdly, remembering to at least roll your eyes back excessively for the sake of the camera, when all you wanted to do was bury your face into your arm as your body shook from the intensity of your climax.

John had pulled his mouth back, working you through your release with his fingers inside you and his thumb on your clit. Your juices dribbled down his arm and between your legs, puddling on the floor below you as he crooned.

“Oh, fuck look at you. Fuckin’ squirting for me ‘n all. Good fucking girl. Good fucking girl! Knew you could do it. You’re so fucking hot, love. Wish I coulda seen that pretty face as you came like that.” He pressed soft kisses to your thigh between his sweet, vulgar words, fingers slapping gently over your clit to extend your orgasm for as long as possible before you jerked, the overstimulation settling in.

Withdrawing and rising to his full height, John flipped you around effortlessly, so you were on your back and tugged you close. He wrapped your legs around his hips and pulled your body up by the back of your neck so he could seal his mouth over yours. Trying to fight the urge to simply go limp, you gripped onto his thick arms, but you could feel yourself sagging. Noticing, John pulled back, resting his forehead on yours.

“Need a break, sweets?” He whispered, his voice earnest, and you knew he was looking out for you. His grip tightened around you, making sure he was holding you steady as you made up your mind.

“I think so.” You nodded, sucking in breaths to try and calm your racing heart. “Haven’t cum that hard in a while, sir. I think I’ll need a breather.” He hummed, pressing a reassuring kiss to your cheek before signalling Nikolai over your shoulder. You heard the director yell to cut as John ran his fingers down your arms soothingly.

“Tell me what you need.”

#crash writes #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #captain price x reader #captain john price smut #john price smut #captain price smut #call of duty #call of duty smut #john price x you #captain price x you #pornstar!price

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thehauntedetheral · 5 months ago

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Omg i love your yandere baker so much, he's so cute 😭🫶. We need more of him pls? 😔🙏. How about when y/n start gaining on weight cause y/n keep eating his cake and then she stop going to his bakery for a while and also avoid him a lot cause meeting him means stuffing your face with his cake (dude def love seeing y/n eating his food) and that led to him going crazy 💀

Part 1 : https://www.tumblr.com/thehauntedetheral/757598004742176768/can-we-get-a-yandere-baker-x-reader-pls-thank?source=share

Yandere Baker Pt. 2

Requests are open !

• "Nooooo!!!!" This was your first reaction when you measured your current weight on the machine.

• You have gained quite a lot weight you thought looking at the number on the machine.

• Today at office a coworker said to you that you were looking quite chubby this days and that led you to this checking out your weight.

• You looked at the mirror and thought to yourself that now you have to go on diet as you cheeks looked a bit chubby and your weight increased.

• You didn't want to go on a diet because that would mean not going to your favourite bakery, seeing the cute baker and eating his delicious treats.

• The mouthwatering pastries and cakes are now replaced by veggies, fruits and nutritional food.

• It has been a huge record that you have not gone to the bakery since 5 days.

• Your absence made yan worried about you and sad.

• "Are my baking skills not good now?" He thought while waiting for you but you didn't came.

• He would look at you through bakery glass wall jogging in morning. He would come out and call out for you "Y/n I just baked your favourite pastry, come inside and let's have a taste." While holding the tray with mouthwatering pastries at you.

The aroma, the beautiful texture tempted you but you would just start running away yelling "Next time yan right now busy exercising".

• This made him incredible sad thinking "what will I do now if my y/n isn't eating my pastries and cakes?"

• Will definitely cry for hours in his bakery sitting alone in a corner.

• Going crazy thinking "are my baking skills not enough now? Does she not like me anymore now? I baked her favourite and yet she refused, this is not my y/n."

• Enough is enough he goes to your home one day ringing the bell like a maniac with a box filled with your favourites. Wanting to know why his favourite customer isn't coming anymore????!!!!!

•You opened the door and invited him inside explaining the whole weight gain thing.

• He is just shocked looking at you with unbelievable expression. You and getting fat? IMPOSSIBLE.

• According to him you are absolutely perfect and not at all chubby, fat, skinny or anything.

• Thinks of beating that co worker who made you think you are gaining weight. Even though he is not a violence person.

• According to him you are not gaining weight you are just becoming more healthy with his love which he is pouring on you through his baked goods.

• He tries to convince you that you are not gaining weight and you need to come to bakery as usual.

• But when you don't agree he comes with a plan.

• This man starts a new section in his bakery with title "SUGAR FREE BAKED GOODS" which has no sugar and is made from only healthy stuffs only. Like sugar free bananas muffins, oatmeal cookies which health influencer shows on their channel even though it is totally against his baking ethics. But this man would do anything for you. For you to eat his food. After all this man's love language is feeding you his handmade food.

• His bakery now has oatmeal cookies, apple donuts which is nothing but fruits cutted and some healthy toppings on it. Making all this in his bakery even though he hates it as he loves making stuff filled with cream, toppings, chocolate etc.

• But he will do anything to have you back at bakery and eat.

• His sale increased as he was selling both cream fillied delicious pastries and healthy sugar free things made from apples and berries and oatmeal etc.

• His bakery was all over the internet viral through health influencer videos you followed which made you go to the bakery too.

• You ate the healthy stuff and even complimented him on this new business ideas of his (only if you knew that he started all this for you)

• He was happy that you would come sometimes at bakery for the healthy stuff now.

• But he was not elated as you were not coming everyday and eating those baked stuff which made you happy.

• He would come with you on morning joggings to be near you.

• After a month with your exercise and dieting you loss a good amount of weight. Which made you happy.

• Upon your success in weight lossing he gave you a small cupcake of your favourite icing.

"Come on y/n I made it for your celebration on losing weight. I wanted to make a cake but I know you won't eat it so I made a little cupcake. And come on all the health influencers says you should reward yourself with a little treat after work. And a little cupcake won't hurt." He said manipulating you with his puppy eyes and pretty words.

And the cupcake he made for you looks so tempting that you ate it thinking a little cupcake won't hurt. You ate it and felt like you were in heaven again eating it after a month. You missed all this so bad!!!

• Well you have fallen again now in his sweet baked trap coming everyday eating crossiant, pastry, cake while yan tells you " a little won't hurt y/n you have already loss weight and you also eat the nutritious food I made it's all balance" he says while feeding you his delicious treats being happy that you are back to eating his baked goods.

• Seems like you are never gonna be able to escape his pastries and the good looking baker who makes it.

For more yandere reading :

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xoluvx · 17 days ago

Text

countdown; b.eilish 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚑 𝚍𝚊𝚢 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝

'just don't eat them without me'

the words replayed in her head as she approached the advent calendar. the same one you'd been using for at least two years now. you filled it with chocolates and candies and little treats you thought she'd might like, but this year you'd been very particular about your instructions. she wasn't allowed to open it without you present and she had to wait until the end of the day.

so while you'd been taking a shower and the rain was roaring outside, droplets splashing on the window, she headed to the calendar for a sweet treat. she'd have a whole speech ready for you later, but right now she was weak. she placed the small chocolate on her tongue. letting it dissolve on her buds. creamy and sweet and everything she was craving in that moment. her eyelids even fluttered as it coated her tongue. she even wiped the corner of her mouth as she walked up the stairs to wait for you in the room.

it had to have been the longest shower you'd taken, she'd come to that conclusion as she laid in bed waiting for you. the water wasn't running and you were probably just doing your after-shower care routine, but she was growing impatient. she even moaned and moved her hips on the bed when she picked up her phone and saw the picture of you on her lockscreen. her phone told her you'd been in there for almost an hour and her throbbing pussy told her she needed you right this second.

she was going to search for you when you slipped out of the bathroom, your shirt big and your legs bare, she growled. she full on growled and pounced like a dog in heat. her hands were on your body in seconds. fingertips gripping your waist. lips brushing along your neck. you gasped, but allowed her to kiss your neck. her hands ran down to your ass. gripping and slapping and pulling until you were stumbling and falling onto her body.

you straddled her waist, gripping her chin forcing her to look at you. her eyes were wild. brows almost furrowed. frustration written on her face. a pout on her lips and just the smallest tiniest whimpering sounds were escaping from her body. the realization hit you then.

"you had something from the calendar without me, didn't you?" you exclaimed letting your hand fall down to her neck. she didn't say anything, but her lips parted knowing she'd been caught and there was no way out of this. "answer me," you demanded through gritted teeth tightening the grip around her neck as she inhaled shakily; nodding her head.

"which one?" you asked as your thumb pressed against her throat gently. you felt her ragged breathing under your fingertips urging her to confess.

"eleven," she responded nervously. the whole interaction was only making her hungrier. the way you gripped her neck was driving her mad. when you moved only slightly, it made her pussy throb harder. at one point her hips were moving and you were moving with her without trying. she gripped your waist bringing you down on her pelvis as she thrust. you quickly stopped her. your hand fisting her hair as she cried out ecstatically. you looked her directly in the eyes shaking your head with a devilish look.

"you disobeyed me, billie" you teased pulling on her hair again when she bit her lip. "think i'll have to punish you," you smirked as your voice trailed off and her eyelids fluttered with the promise of a punishment. she was moving her hips again. frowning when you got off her. you pushed her back and she hit the bed making a small noise. her thighs parted as you shook your head.

it took you seconds to pull down her bottoms and discard them on the floor. seconds for her to pull off her shirt half haphazardly raising her chest, nipples hard already. she was a mouthwatering sight. slithering on the bed so desperate for something. anything. she craved it. no, she needed it. the heat radiated through her body. it was especially hot on her clit. it tingled and twinged as your face inched closer to her pussy. you licked your lips and she moaned gripping the sheets.

you lips hovered over her pussy as you breathed softly on her cunt. she was begging. the same words spilled from her tongue over and over until you were parting her pussy with your fingers, pressing your flat tongue on her warm dripping cunt. her whimpers transformed into cries as you moved your head side to side. your entire tongue covered her sensitive little clit as you pressed down on it and moved your tongue muscles along with the motions of your moving head.

you held her thigh back as it threatened to close, one hand still holding her pussy open. tongue still teasingly applying pressure. flicking when her breathing settled only spiking her temperature again. you rotated your tongue on her clit loving the way she cried out. the way her chest rose from the bed and her thighs quivered. the way she tried turning to the side so she could bury her face in something, but was rendered completely useless because both of your arms were now hooked under thighs holding her still.

"i need to cum," she managed to speak coherently for once as she looked down at you through hooded eyelids. her eyes were watering. her bottom lip red and dented with teeth marks. you shook your head tongue moving with you before dipping into her pussy. she cried out and held her breath as you fucked her; bringing her so close to the edge but there was no where for her to hold on.

"please," she cried softly placing her hands on her belly. digging her fingers into her skin as she fell back arching her back while falling deeper into your tongue.

"no," you smiled before getting up and tapping her pussy with your hand; dropping her thighs as she gasped in disbelief.

"wait-" she fluttered her lids sitting up and slithering on the bed. she was still so hot. clit on fire. pussy throbbing. the hunger was insatiable. she still felt it in her bones. she needed you. she needed to cum. she needed to make you cum. she needed you in every position and every way. she was on her knees now crawling to you hold your waist before you could get away. her head was buried in your t-shirt begging you to fuck her. to let her fuck you. her teeth were sinking into the fabric catching your skin with it. you placed your hand on her head. fingers digging into her hair pulling her back. eyes still wild.

"i told you to wait for me, didn't i?" you echoed the words you'd recited when you first started the countdown.

"so now.. you can't cum until i do and-" you exclaimed smirked and pulling her hair letting the words sink in. she squirmed and pressed herself closer to you. her face lowering down to your pussy. mouth open. eyes big. "-you don't stop until i tell you."

billie's brows furrowed as your instructions sank in. she wanted to bite every surface of your body. she wanted to devour you. eat you alive. spit you out and swallow you again. you wanted her to count down all the ways she could make you cum. count down all the ways she could use her tongue and her fingers. see how she could contort your body in ways you didn't know were possible. you wanted to feel the same fire coursing through her body and set the bed in flames. it's not how you had planned it, but god was it heavenly and you couldn't imagine a better way to spend your rainy day.

masterlist

#billie eilish #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x you #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish fic #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish oneshot #billie eilish smut #diamas 2024

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nyx-umbrakinesis · 5 months ago

Text

Female Reader!

Impromptu smut killing my friends led to this so enjoy me ignoring my WIP list and asks... I am not editing this... It's pure rough draft smut again 😂 I'm being tortured rn to post it lmao...

Alastor x FReader.

CW: P in V sex, lots of talking from Alastor, radio broadcasting. No editing; no beta; we're going in raw, WE DIE LIKE ADAM!

(See male reader version here)

Here's...

Scream For Me.

(Fem Reader!)

Alastor's eyes gleam with excitement as he obliges your request, to act like you're in a broadcast as he fucks you on the control panel.

His voice taking on the smooth, seductive cadence of his radio persona, the radio overlay seamless as he continues to fuck you relentlessly.

"Welcome back to the airwaves, my dear listeners. We have a very special guest in the studio tonight - an exquisite Sinner! Who's been brought to her knees by the Radio Demon himself. She's got a mouthwatering pair of tits, a luscious ass, and a swollen little clit that's just begging to be played with."

He reaches up, tweaking your nipples as he continues to describe your body to his imaginary audience, his voice dripping with sarcasm and lust.

"But the real treat here, folks, is her tight little cunt."

Alastor grunts as he buries himself inside you, his fingers digging into your hips as he picks up the pace, his voice growing more urgent with each passing second.

"She's soaked, practically drowning in her own juices. And the sounds she makes, oh the sounds... They're like music to my ears, a symphony of lust and desire that has me on the edge of sanity."

He leans in, his teeth grazing your earlobe as he whispers in a low, husky voice.

"You're mine. My personal plaything. And I'm going to make you cum harder than you ever have before, right here on the airwaves for everyone to hear."

You moan, body trembling cunt spasming, as you cling to him desperately while he takes you without mercy.

"I'm going to keep fucking you until you can't take it anymore."

As Alastor continues to narrate your intimate encounter, his words become more explicit and crude, pushing the boundaries of decency and fueling your mutual desire.

"Look at you! You're a mess. Your makeup's smeared, your hair's a tangled mess, and you're covered in sweat and cum. But you're still so fucking beautiful, so incredibly sexy. I can't get enough of you."

His thrusts become more erratic, his movements more aggressive as he approaches his peak, his voice rising in volume and intensity.

"I'm going to fill you up, Princess. I'm going to flood your cunt with my seed, marking you as mine for all eternity."

Alastor's words send a surge of pleasure through you, and you moan loudly, your body writhing under his relentless assault. The thought of being 'broadcasted' to an unknown number of listeners adds a thrill to your encounter, pushing you further into the realm of ecstasy.

"Oh god... yes... I'm yours... I'll do anything for you..." You pant, your voice filled with desire and submission.

Alastor's grip on your hips tightens, his thrusts becoming more forceful as he brings you closer and closer to the edge of orgasm. The sensations build within you, a tidal wave of pleasure that threatens to consume you whole.

"I'm going to cum... Alastor..."

"And those tits... So perfect for playing with while I'm balls deep inside you... Scream for me."

Alastor's words push you over the edge, and you cry out in pleasure as your body convulses in an intense, shattering orgasm. He doesn't stop, though, continuing to pound into you relentlessly as wave after wave of euphoria crashes over you, cunt clenching hard, vision going white with pleasure.

His grip on your hips becomes almost painful, his movements rough and uncontrolled as he chases his own release, driven by the sight and sound of you, the feel of you clenching around him making him make his own delicious sounds.

Finally, with a roar of triumph, he releases his seed deep inside you, filling you up, flooding you.

"And there it is, folks! The sweet sound of this sweet sinners surrender. Her body convulsing, her voice screaming out in ecstasy as I claim her yet again. And now, I'm now painting her insides with my seed, branding her as mine for all eternity."

As Alastor continues to speak into the microphone, his words grow more ragged, more primal, reflecting the intensity of his own climax.

"Feel me, Darling. Feel my cum filling you up, making you mine."

His thrusts become slower, more measured as he savors the sensation of release, his body still convulsing with aftershocks of pleasure.

"That's it, my dear. Take it all. Let every last drop of my seed fill you up, marking you as mine."

As Alastor finally stills, his body spent and satisfied, he leans in to press a tender kiss to your lips, his voice softening as he addresses you directly once more.

"You were amazing, Sweetheart. Truly breathtaking. And remember, no matter where this journey takes us, you will always be mine."

He withdraws from you slowly, his semen trickling from your sated cunt as he moves aside to allow you to rest and recover from your intense encounter. As he does so, he reaches out to gently caress your cheek, his eyes filled with a mixture of lust, affection, and pride.

"Thank you, Alastor," you manage to whisper, your voice hoarse from moaning and your body trembling with exhaustion and satisfaction. "It was... incredible."

You lean into his touch, closing your eyes as you bask in the warmth and love radiating from him. For the first time in your life, you truly feel seen, understood, and accepted for who you are, flaws and all.

"I love you," you murmur, the words slipping past your lips without hesitation or fear.

Alastor's smile widens, his eyes sparkling with joy as he leans in to press another kiss to your lips.

"And I love you, Dearest Heart," he whispers against your mouth. "Now and forever."

(unbeknownst to you, he had actually been broadcasting the whole time, not just pretending.)

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on-a-lucky-tide · 23 days ago

Text

Price worships Nik's body like he deserves, and treats him to a new experience.

cw: chest worship, rimming, anal sex, bottom Nikolai.

"You ready?"

"I am ready."

Price nodded and took one final glance around the room to ensure all assets were in position. Window open for the breeze, candles secure, lube in place on the bedside table, towels on hand, water with ice in a pint glass. Everything was thoroughly prepared. Right, he was ready to deploy.

Price scratched the back of his neck, glancing up through his eyebrows at the slab of top tier Russian beef currently awaiting him in the middle of the bed. It had been a hard week, Nik was exhausted, but two days into their leave, with the rest of the world shut out, Nik was finally in the right frame of mind for intimacy. Price had to get this bloody right.

And there he lounged, all dark hair, thick muscle and cocky smile. Fucking beautiful.

It had always struck Price how confident Nik was naked. He swaggered around their flat with his massive dick out, hard or soft, and had once almost answered the door in the buff. Would have given Beryl from Number 4 a bloody heart attack as she clutched their Amazon parcel full of creatine.

In all fairness, Price thought as he studied his lover on the bed, he would probably walk around naked too if he looked that bloody good. Nik had one arm tucked behind his head, a knee hitched up the bed, his prick sitting semi-hard in the curve of his hip as he studied Price with those big, inquisitive eyes.

In that one gay werewolf romance novel Price had found in Soap's quarters, the author had talked about hard lines and angles, but outside the sharp edge of his jaw and defined chin, Nik was all firm curves that made Price want to sink his teeth in and hump like a randy bloody dog. His shoulders, his biceps, his plush stomach, just lean enough to see his abdominals when he clenched to sit up, the mouthwatering heft of his balls between muscular thighs.... Fuuuh-kin' 'ell.

"Are you okay?" Nik asked, head tilting to the side.

"Grand," Price said, voice tight in his throat. "Just admirin' the scenery."

Nik smiled at him. It was the goofy little grin he only ever flashed when he was up to mischief, or planning it. Price cocked a brow as he slipped out of his boxers and lobbed them in a ball towards the laundry basket. He wasn’t quite at the 'walk around the house bollock naked' stage of his personal development. Maybe that happened when you turned forty.

Price didn't miss the way Nik's eyes ran down the length of his body as he swaggered up to the foot of the bed, bottom lip rolling between his teeth. Nik rubbed one big hand over the shaft of his cock, giving it a longing little tug as his gaze lingered on Price's lips. "Mm. Are you sure you would not rather do our usual?"

Price knelt on the mattress unsteadily, his own prick filling quickly in anticipation of getting his mouth on Nik's body. He crawled his way up the bed, marking the location of those greedy hands in case he needed to deploy countermeasures to maintain control of the engagement. "Naw. Ya promised. This is what I want."

Nik sighed, flopping his hands onto the bed, palms up. They had negotiated tying them to the headboard, because Nik might be tempted to use them as a distraction to get his own way. Wouldn't be the first time. But Nik had promised to behave. Given his word, in fact. Plus, running his hands over Price was one of the parts he enjoyed the most about sex, and Price was bloody well looking forward to feeling them clutch his back for the finale, anyway.

"Let me, Nik. Wanna make ya feel good," Price said as he sprawled at his lover's side, placing a palm in the centre of Nik's belly. He stroked his thumb through the soft hair trailing down to Nik's groin, jet black streaked with wisps of white and grey, and pressed his lips to Nik's bicep, blue eyes wide and imploring.

"I have never been able to say no to those eyes," Nik said, and leaned in for a kiss. Price let him have it, kissing slowly as he trailed that hand up to Nik's chest. His palm brushed over soft nipples, a fingertip teasing around the areola of one until it pulled tight.

Tonight was about Nik and his pleasure. Not that Nik had been able to fully grasp why Price wanted such an evening. "Because yer just asked a question as stupid as that," Price had said at the time, cutting off the end of his cigar. Nik had still looked nonplussed. It was truly baffling how little Nik considered his own needs and desires.

Price kissed slowly down Nik's jaw, savouring the bristles of stubble against his lips, tracing his nose over his neck to breathe him in. "Always smell so good," Price grumbled, leaning over to press his face into the hollow of Nik's throat for a deeper breath that made his mouth water.

"You have scents you prefer." Nik's hand couldn't stay still for long. It brushed up Price's back, fingertips skating over goosepimpled skin, sliding into his hair from the base of his neck. There was no attempt to guide, only hold, Nik’s thumb circling lazily beneath Price's ear.

"Oh yeah?" Price kissed Nik's clavicle, before working slowly down the centre of Nik's chest. He paid close attention to the curve of one glorious tit while he squeezed the other, rolling it around against his palm. Nik's cock twitched with interest; he liked having his chest played with, pushed into it, in fact.

"Da," Nik's fingers tightened a little as Price kissed across the crest of his pectoral and down the outside where the skin was soft, sensitive. It made Nik shiver, the first crack in his laid-back facade. "You prefer... mm, you prefer..."

"What do I prefer, Nik?" Price's tongue swirled around a nipple before he sucked it into his mouth, stroking the other between finger and thumb. That earned him a soft moan, Nik's head flopping back as he drew in deep breaths through his nose.

"You prefer muskier scents. Ones that, ah, John..."

"Doin' well, Nik," Price whispered, warm breath ghosting over wet skin. He guided Nik's arms up again to kiss into the dip of his armpit. Nik's fingers curled into his palm and he spread his legs, hips twitching up with a swell of arousal, another soft noise of enjoyment rumbling from that thick chest. Price kissed and nosed the underside of his bicep, before kissing deep into the groove again, where the taste and smell of Nik was rich. He lingered there until Nik shuddered out another soft moan, fingers and toes curling as his cock twitched up from his hip with an involuntary flex of his kegel.

“Soundin’ so pretty for me, sweet'eart.”

Nik flushed, self conscious, and Price squeezed the fingers wound through his just above Nik's head before he released them to kiss over Nik's obliques. Nik kept his arm curled up obediently, baring himself for Price's mouth even as his hips squirmed. Every inch of skin deserved to be worshipped, and Nik was enjoying it, his prick hard and leaking thick beads of precum where it rested heavily under its own weight against his belly. "Doin' so well," Price said again.

Price's hand had followed the progress of his mouth on the other side of Nik's body, stroking the contours of his torso down to his hip. Nik's fingers fluttered over the back of his wrist as if to ground himself, finding purchase again as he stroked into Price's hair. He was breathing heavier, fighting his instinct to take the wheel, squirming against the softness of the sheets.

Price glanced up to see Nik's head tilted back, his eyes closed and his damp lips parted, before he continued down his belly to press a soft kiss to the tip of his cock. It twitched against his lips and Price ran the tip of his nose down the thick vein right to the base, nuzzling into the thick curls of black hair at his groin until he could bury his face against the heft of his sac. Price kneaded at the bedsheets, growling softly, feral, as his beard and face soaked in Nik's scent.

“Are you going to eat me, John?” Nik asked, amused, his voice thick and low as he looked down the slope of his body to John’s face. He'd see wild blue eyes buried among the thick hair around his cock, the side of John's nose brushing gently over the velvet skin of his shaft. John kept his eye contact as he opened his mouth and sucked around the base of Nik's cock, tongue swirling down over his balls. “Ahh, da… John…”

Nik sounded so good like that. Breathless, a slight tremor in his voice as a sigh stuttered over parted lips. John licked and kissed lazily, working his way back up to swirl his tongue over the soft join of skin at the back of Nik’s glans until Nik's thighs were twitching. John sucked over Nik’s leaking tip, moaning wantonly as he licked it clean of precum, tongue swirling through his slit until Nik's stomach clenched. Only then, did he pull away with a swift kiss to his glans, smirking up at Nik's flustered expression.

Nik groaned and flopped a wrist over his face. “John, pochemu ty vse vremya menya draznish?”

Price chuckled, hitching up onto his elbow so he could reach for the lube he had chucked onto the bedside table earlier. When he returned his mouth to Nik's cock, his slick fingers stroked down his taint, heavy balls nestling in the curve of his palm, so warm, so perfect, that Price couldn't help but suck another deep kiss over them. The fact that Nik's thighs spread, his hips lifting to Price's mouth in little needy twitches, made Price damn near purr.

It was rare he got to tease Nik for this long. Nik was usually too impatient to get between Price's legs and Price enjoyed getting drilled too much to put up any resistance. When time was short, they defaulted to the demands of raw need, but with two days of leave behind them and two more ahead, they had time and space to indulge.

Price pressed up just behind Nik's balls, circling the walnut shaped firmness that made Nik's back bow a little from the bed, as he kissed and lapped sloppily up and down his shaft. When Price worked lower, massaging the cluster of nerves around his opening. Nik’s fingers fisted in the sheets, a soft grunt escaping his throat.

Price kissed the soft skin of Nik's inner thigh, lips lingering over his thrumming pulse. “Ty slishkom napryazheny, tebya nuzhno rasslabit'sya…”

Nik glowed, dark eyes soft. “Ha, John… your… that was good…”

“Need ya to relax for me then,” another kiss, fingers still caressing insistently at Nik's fluttering hole, “ty khochesh etogo, da, detka?” Price asked, his voice husky and thick, and it had the desired effect, Nik’s body curled a little with delight.

“Da, ya klyanus…”

“Gluboko dyshat.” Price nuzzled the heft of Nik’s balls again, shouldering his leg a little further away as his tongue followed the slick path of his fingers to Nik's hole. He kissed the flexing muscle as deeply and passionately as if it were Nik’s mouth, tongue swirling around the outer ring before lapping inside.

Nik made the most beautiful noise Price had ever heard; a desperate, broken little whimper that might have started as a Russian curse and ended in a soft plea. A world away from the guttural grunts and moans he usually made during their tumbles. Price earned another when he thrust his tongue in again, followed by his forefinger. He worked them in and out together, the firm press of his fingertip contrasting with the slick writhe of his tongue in a messy glide that made Nik tremble.

“Ahh, haa, John… John… da, yeshcho, ahh, yeshcho,” Nik moaned, pressing his head back into the pillow, his legs shaking as Price’s finger curled to find his prostate and began to circle it. As an older gent, Nik's was a little bigger, easier to locate, and Price was going to take full advantage. Bloody hell, he was so sensitive, every flick and thrust of Price's tongue teasing another tortured pant out of him, thick tits heaving as his plush belly pulled tight.

Price took his time, tugging Nik’s rim down to lap the flat of his tongue over Nik's sloppy hole, enjoying the way it fluttered and clenched greedily, plunging back inside with his mouth wide. When he slipped a second finger in, Nik was relaxed enough to take it easily; Price pressed his fingertips up in a come hither motion that made Nik choke out another whimper.

Nik was so hard, his cockhead wet and glistening, and Price pumped a hand down it, working Nik's foreskin lazily over his glans. “Fuck, yer lovin’ this, aren't ya, sweet'eart? Love me playin’ with your hole.” Price’s jaw ached, his mouth watered at the delicious taste and smell of his lover on his tongue and lips. He closed his eyes to listen to the wet noise of his fingers working into Nik, and the soft, tortured noises his big Russian was panting into the warm comfort of their bedroom.

“Da, please… mm, John, haa, ah.”

“Reckon you could take my dick? Wanna feel ya…”

“Da, da.”

Price withdrew his fingers carefully, and sat up. “On yer front, spread yer legs fer me, love. Show me that pretty hole.”

Nik shifted slowly, his cheeks flushed and red, and rolled onto his hands and knees. Price guided him with gentle, encouraging hands. He placed a bent pillow beneath Nik's hips, urging his spine into a deeper curve and spreading his knees apart. All that heft and power presenting was bloody stunning, dark body hair, plush padding and muscle, Nik was a work of art. Nik's large shoulders and biceps bunched as big hands found an anchor in the blankets, his thick thighs twitching.

“There, fuck, look at’cha.. fuckin’ gorgeous,” Price breathed, thumbs pushing into the cheeks of Nik's arse to spread them open, admiring slick muscle and whirls of jet black bodyhair. He couldn't help it. He needed to taste him once more.

Nik scrambled at the blankets as Price buried his face against him, the soft bristles of his beard a little coarse against his sensitive skin as he was devoured. Price moaned as he ate his fill, saliva dripping down the back of Nik's balls. Nik damn squeaked, overwhelmed. “John, John, ahh…”

Price's cock ached, he was so damn hard, so damn desperate. He knew he was going to come quickly but it sounded like Nik was clinging on by the skin of his teeth too, ruddy cock heavy between his legs. When Price sat up, Nik was quivering, his face buried in the pillow. He placed a palm at the small of Nik's back while the other grasped the base of his cock, lining his tip up with his hole. The sight of Nik spreading open around his cockhead, gaping around his crown, swallowing an inch of his shaft, soft as butter. “Oh, fuck, Nik… takin’ me like a natural.”

Nik wheezed into the cotton pillowcase, bearing down against the intrusion, his hole sucking Price back in when his cock withdrew. Price squared his hips up and sank his fingers into the plush fat and muscle around Nik's hips, growling at the glorious, possessive give of Nik’s body in his grip. He started slowly, rocking in and out, sinking right to the hilt, pressing his balls into the weight of Nik's.

He listened to Nik’s moans, how they rose and fell, became more intense when Price was thrusting deep. The snug, inexperienced clutch of Nik's body was heavenly, the way he fluttered and bore down, hollowing out and relaxing more as the pleasure mounted.

Price draped over Nik's back, grinding and rutting into Nik's eager hole as he licked the sweat off Nik’s back, blissfully delirious. “Yeah, Nik… yeah, so fuckin’ good, fuck, oh, fuck, yeah.”

“Faster, please…”

Price pushed his knuckles into the mattress and lifted into his toes, pounding Nik down into the bed, and forcing increasingly urgent cries that couldn't be muffled by the pillows.

“John, John… vyyebi menya sil'neye, sil'neye!”

“C’mon, Nik, come for me. Lemme hear, fuck, fuck… yeah, c’mon, love, mm, aah.”

“Da, da, da…” Nik pushed back into Price's hips, desperate, needy, and Price slipped a hand beneath them to stroke Nik's cock. It took three firm tugs until Nik was half roaring, half seething through his orgasm, muffled by the pillow he'd shoved into his own mouth to manage the intensity. Price slowed, ekeing out the last few moments of his high, the tingling, heady, breathless peak before he tumbled over.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” he snarled into Nik’s back, cock pulsing inside the firm grip of Nik's body. Grey splotches splashed over his vision, and he pressed his nose into the groove of Nik's spine as he wiggled and bumped his hips against Nik’s arse, humping wantonly through his own spend like a horny bloody dog. “Fuckin' ‘ell, yer so fuckin’ hot… what the fuck was that… wot…”

Nik chuckled into the pillow, breathless and limp. “John, your pillow talk is an art form.”

“Not my fault. Yer body makes me stupid. ‘m an actual dumb fuck, I…”

Nik’s soft chortles vibrated under Price's belly, rumbled around his cock still buried to the hilt, and Price grinned into his back. Those chuckles were delirious and fucked out, thoroughly satisfied, and Price felt a surge of masculine pride at his performance. He withdrew slowly, slumping to the side so he could urge Nik down against him. “You good? Nothin’ hurtin’?”

“I think I will be sore, but in a good way, no?”

“Yeah, maybe. Still. ‘m not packin’ your horse cock, so think yerself lucky.”

“You are exaggerating.”

“Nik, the first time ya fucked me, I had to stand up for the whole flight before a HALO…”

“The whole flight?” Nik asked, sounding far too pleased with himself.

“Yeah, yeah, olrigh’. Jus’ sayin’, bit of practice, everythin’ bounces back jus’ fine.”

“Hmm. You expect this to be… regular, then.”

“Got a taste of your arse now, ‘m gonna need regular top ups,” Price said, grabbing a handful of Nik's arse cheek. He leaned up on his elbow and studied Nik's face carefully. “If yer alright with that. Don't wanna be doin’ anyfin’ yer not happy with, love.”

Nik hummed. “It was… intense. I would not be against it.”

“But?”

“Being inside of you is the closest I will ever come to God.”

“Ya jus’... come out with that shit like it's normal.”

“Da,” Nik turned and sat up on his elbow, one large paw of a hand slipping around John's jaw, thumb stroking down his throat. “Mere words are not enough to express my love for you, John. But I try.”

Price swallowed, trying to ignore the fact his eyes definitely wanted to emote far more than was truly necessary. Really. He should pull himself together, damn it. They'd just fucked raw and hard, and now he was being bloody wooed all over again.

“I love you, Nik. You soppy bastard,” he croaked, and then kissed the damn fucker before he could drop anymore purple prose and make actual tears fall.

#captain john price #cod nikolai #nikprice #prikolai #spicy again #i think nekro asked for this a while ago #maybe pan #eitherway #dumping this like a mangy street cat bringing you a wood pigeon lads

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