#oh honey I brought egg

[chuckpetrizzi]

That time your partner asks you to get the mints while you’re in the kitchen, so naturally, you walk back into the room with two (shelled) hard boiled eggs and a ramekin of tajin.

[queenimmadolla]

𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐝

Summary: A glimpse into Eddie’s morning as a first time and young dad with his baby. Oh, and you’re there, too.

Warnings: allusions to sexy stuff, descriptions of breastfeeding (it’s natural—suck it up), and fluff.

a/n: pulled this one out of the vault for you guys, written last July. hope you like it!

Eddie’s up before you and surprised to see it’s light outside, a sight he hasn’t woken up to in the last couple of months. Two, to be exact.

  That’s when the two of you had brought Penny home.

  Eddie yawned, impressively loud before he slapped a hand over his mouth, gaze flickering to you but you were still asleep; on your stomach with your face partially hidden in your pillow. You’d successfully kicked the sheets off yourself in your sleep, leaving your legs bare and your top half covered with one of Eddie’s larger shirts. 

  One of your legs was bent at the knee and raised up near your elbow.

  God, you always looked so fucking delectable. All he’d have to do is rouse you with some kisses pressed to your neck, settle himself behind you, pull his boxers down and move your panties to the side and he could just—

  Eddie inhaled sharply, tearing his gaze away from your body before his blood could rush off to an area he didn’t have the time to acknowledge, as the very reason he couldn’t partake in his little fantasy cooed from her crib. 

  She’d been the result of a very similar event.

  He took a couple of moments to calm himself, squeezing his eyes shut as he promised, soon.

  Then he got out of bed, snagging a band t-shirt from the dresser as he walked to the crib on the other end of the room.

  Eddie yanked on the shirt—only briefly struggling with the arm holes—before he was peering into the crib, mouth breaking out in a megawatt grin.

  Penny was awake alright, big brown eyed stare focused on a sticker that had been plastered to the wall of his room long before she was even conceived. You’d swaddled her before putting her to bed last night, so she looked like an adorable, content burrito.

  Once she realized Eddie was hovering over her, the sticker lost her attention and those big beautiful eyes were on him, sparkling as her mouth parted in a gummy smile big enough to rival his own. 

  Daddy came to rescue her from confinement. 

  “Hi, baby, good morning!” Eddie cooed, trying his best to excitedly whisper so as to not disturb you, but he couldn’t help it. He was still so thrilled—and fucking terrified—to be a dad, to have that cute face peering up at him every morning and waiting for him when he got home from work. She always looked at him like he was the greatest thing to walk the earth, always so delighted to see her daddy.

  Even though she’d start crying for you the moment you came into view—but you had an advantage he lacked, you always had her food on you. Her walking meal ticket.

  And Eddie couldn’t even blame her, he was a huge fan of your boobs and he’d even bet he appreciated them more than Penny. 

  Eddie reached into the crib, tugging the tucked in corner of the blanket out and as the blanket around her loosened, Penny’s arms shot up near her head, her tiny body arching as she stretched for a comically long period of time. Eddie chuckled, using it to his advantage, he slipped an arm behind her back and head with the other supporting her bottom as he picked her up, pressing a kiss to her head (and giving her hair a secret little sniff to get a whiff of that baby scent of hers).

  “Did you sleep good, honey?” He cradled her in one arm, tucked close to his chest as he carried her out of the room to start on breakfast. 

  Penny obviously didn’t answer, head resting against his collarbone.

  “Heard you woke up mom last night—well, early this morning, I guess—with boobie demands.”

  Eddie pulled the fridge open, hovering in front of it as he debated on its contents before selecting the cartridge of eggs.

  He didn’t want to put Penny down, happy to have her curled up in his arms, so a simple breakfast would have to do. A pan was pulled out, so was a little bit of cooking oil and soon Eddie was breaking the eggs out of the shell—angling his body to the side so Penny wasn’t at risk of possible oil splash back—and letting them cook.

  “You like eggs?” Eddie asked, stepping a little ways from the stove as he hitched her higher on his chest and held the eggshells out for her to see.

  She kicked her legs, a roll covered arm shakily reaching out towards the shells but Eddie kept them out of her reach.

  “Uh-uh, no sticky fingers for you, young lady.”

  The shells were tossed in the trash can but Penny didn’t care, twisting her upper so her chest was pressed to his. She gripped his shirt loosely in her chunky fist as she leaned forward and mouthed at his shoulder, effectively soaking the area with her drool before she began to suckle.

  “Jesus, you act like we starve you.” Eddie chuckled, reaching for a recently washed pacifier to pop into her mouth.

  She seemed to prefer it over his shirt, doing a full body sigh once she was suckling on it, with her need partially sated (eddie knew he had about fifteen minutes to wrap up breakfast before she realized nothing was coming from it and would start crying), Penny went back to cuddling into his chest. 

  She was starting to be a little more active—not sleeping as much as she did this time last month but for the most part, her movements were still unstable. She had good neck control (you’d had to pin Eddie down to keep him from picking her up when she’d immediately cry upon being put down for tummy time), she liked to kick her legs like she was about to take off for a marathon, but she still couldn’t quite hold things for long (unless it was hair or fingers) and had yet to roll over without you cheating and nudging her the rest of the way.

  Speaking of making Penny do things…

  Eddie lost to his intrusive thought, rearranging his hold on Penny so he was gently grasping her sides as he placed her feet on the counter. Immediately, she popped down to squat before shooting up again. And then she did it once more, getting comfortable with using her legs.

  She didn’t even seem to wonder why Eddie was making her stand, she was more focused on staring intensely at her own feet.

  Then Eddie made her jump, lifted her up and down and up and down, and when that got her smiling wide enough for her pacifier to fall out of her mouth, Eddie moved onto the cabinets.

  “Go, baby, go!” He turned her on her side, miming the motions of her chunky legs running over the top cabinets like some baby ninja and laughing at how big her smile managed to keep getting, her big eyes squinting with it.

  “What are you doing to my baby?” You asked as you emerged from the bedroom, rubbing sleep from your eyes.

  “She’s gonna be the next Karate Ki—hello.”

  Eddie couldn’t help himself, dark gaze trailing over your figure as you stood there, hair a wreck, no pants, oversized t-shirt—ooh, and a leaking nipple. 

  Eddie’s favorite. Yum.

  You followed his gaze, scoffing at the dark stain growing over your left boob, hand pressing against it to stop it as if you were applying pressure to a wound.

  “It heard her,” You pouted, lip stuck out and wobbling at him as you referenced your body’s response to the sound of your baby. Crying, giggling, whimpering—didn’t matter, your milk ducts went into overdrive, aware that your baby was conscious and could need a feeding. Her baby noises were like a trigger sequence.

  Eddie lifted Penny to his face, pressing fervent kisses into the chub of her cheeks, “Score for you, babe!”

  You rolled your eyes, completely, utterly fond and smitten over the interaction. He briefly abandoned the kitchen to hand her to you after you’d made yourself comfortable on the couch, ready to fall to his knees in adoration.

  You pulled the shirt over your breast, and despite trying to place your nipple in her mouth for her, Penny struggled to find it, mouthing greedily at your boob, her little head turning this way and that way but always missing the peak. 

  “Girl, it’s right there.” You laughed. Penny gave it like four more seconds of trying before her whimpers kicked in and you hurriedly managed to get her to latch, stopping the outburst.

  And just like that, Penny was content, making satisfied little squeaks as she nursed and stared up at you, pretending like she hadn’t been moments away from screaming her lungs out.

  And Eddie was distracted, solely focused on the two of you and how he wanted to roll around on the carpet because the cuteness aggression was almost unbearable. If this was how he would be spending every work-free morning for the rest of his life, he was ready to convert to being a morning person.

  Especially if those big sparkly eyes and that gummy smile would be staring up at him. GOD-she was so stinking cute. He wanted to smother her in his affection, but she was growing annoyed with Eddie all up in her face and squishing the chub she was accumulating. She even cried if he faked chewed on her chunky cheeks for too long.

  “What’s that smell?” You asked, snapping him out of his love stupor as you sniffed loudly.

  “FUCK!” Eddie bolted back to the kitchen, smoke surrounding the pan and what had once been edible eggs, “Hey, honey, what’s your opinion on extra crispy eggs? You a risk taker?”

“The answer to that is hurting my nipple right now.”

“Valid. That was a very fun risk.”

divider ℗ cafekitsune ♡

[bunnys-kisses]

Hi hello good day! May I order an extra spicy mille-feuille with a side of mocha coffee for John Price please?

bakery menu

want to order your own dessert? the bakery is still open! always accepting prompts especially from call of duty and formula one! get kinky! get sexy! order up!

mille-feuille (“that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”) + mocha coffee (breeding kink) served by capt. john price!

cw: smut/pwp, breeding kink, rough sex, wife!reader, husband!price, age gap (20s/40s), doggy style

price had a pretty wife! price had a pretty wife! johnny said in a sing-song voice when price returned to base after a "sabbatical", the other men knew what was up the moment he took off his gloves and there was a shiny gold band on his left ring finger.

captain jonathan price of task force 141 had bagged himself a missus!

while johnny's comments were juvinile, it was all in good fun. price never talked about you a lot on base. off base, the boys of 141 had met you and eaten your cooking. but, price kept you close to his chest.

he didn't want anything to happen to you.

when johnny gave him a shove of congratulations, price narrowed his eyes at the younger man, "i am still your captain. don't forget that mactavish."

"of course sir!" johnny laughed as he scratched his jaw, "just 'appy for ya!"

"so what's the plan now?" kyle asked as he gave his captain a firm handshake. in all fairness all three men were curious. you had the house, the ring, what was next for the price's?

price leaned back a little in his chair and shrugged, "well, we're tryin' for a kid when i get back. she's worried by the time i finally retire all her eggs will have dried up!" then gave a hearty laugh, "feels good bein' married to my wife. she a good woman!"

-

price was anxious to go home the second he left home for the next mission for the task force. so the day he got to return to his wife, he was all smiles as he took his belongings back home.

his cock was also painfully hard. he hadn't had the chance to relieve himself in a few days, so his cock was aching for a release. and no better place to put it than in his pretty wife.

he pulled up to the house that you two had been living in before you got married. he got his belongings and headed to the front door. when he knocked on the door, he heard the yapping of your dog.

"pumpkin! stop! down!" he heard your voice and smiled. when the door finally opened, he was instantly met with your arms around him. he held you as best as he could.

"hello, love." he smiled.

you kissed him off the lips and took his boonie hat off. you put it on your head before you giggled and took his hand. you brought him inside and price got a full view of what you were wearing.

the tank top was too tight and the sleeping shorts were too short. he made a face and said, "you've been wearin' that while i'm gone?"

you looked at him and said, "yeah? and the ring too!" then burst into laughter, "i'm joking, honey. i put this on for you. i was excited to see my husband."

price knew from the moment he met you, that he could never say no to you. he just loved you so much, it was almost an ache when he was apart from you.

he knew very well that you were leading him upstairs to the bedroom. he gave pumpkin, your german shepherd a pet and a promise they'll watch coronation street when he was done with her "mama."

price waved to the dog who was sitting there confused what her mama and papa were doing. he closed the door and you were on the bed, the tank top and shorts were off. leaving you in a cute mismatched pair of bra and panties.

you looked so adorable. it made price's cock twitch in his pants. such a pretty little wife. a wife he wanted to dick down and breed until you were nice and round with his children.

oh, he hoped you weren't stopping at one price baby. he was thinking at least three, maybe five if he can stick a pair of twins into you. (irish twins would just have to do if that didn't work! price was a man of many plans!)

he got out of his clothes, his hairy body made you drool. along with the strength in his muscles. you swallowed when he invaded your space and took off your under garments. it was like opening a present.

"my beautiful wife." he said. he took you and got you on your elbows and knees, even getting your pillow to put under your head. he took in the sight of you, back arched for him. ready to accept all he'll give you. he rubbed your ass “that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”

you whimpered against the pillow and felt your husband behind you. you held onto the covers under your head and sighed contently. your pussy was wet, he could clearly see that.

usually he had a cup of tea when he got home, but this was just as good. if not better. he knelt behind you and stroked his cock a few times at the sight of you.

his tip was leaky and his balls felt heavy. such a pretty sight, a submissive little wife (it was the only time you were actually submissive. price knew he married a firecracker!). he rubbed the slick tip up against your slit.

"pretty girl." he purred, then slowly sank into your sweet pussy. his hands on your hips as he pushed in. he heard a sweet moan and watched your back arch more.

"john. please." you panted as you held onto the covers.

"i got ya, love. always got ya." he started his pace, his thrusts were hard but steady. sex was rough, but it made it all feel so good in your bones. it felt like two parts of the same whole.

you were perfect for one another, even when he was breeding your sweet little pussy. he thrust against you, watching your ass jiggle at the force of his movements.

he felt the sweat dip down his back as he moved against you, his heart raced as he felt snug in his wife's pussy. you were just perfect, the most amazing little thing he had ever laid his eyes on. a gift from the heavens for him.

his sweet woman.

"john. please, i love you so much. i can't wait to start a family with you. you're perfect, i love you. you've made me the happiest i could be!" you whined into the pillow. you held onto it under your head.

"i love when you say my name, love. sounds so right on your tongue." he laughed as if he didn't have the most common name in the world. but the way it rolled off your tongue while he was balls deep inside of you made him feel good.

you whined in between your giggle as his soft words. even if his thrusts were hard. he melted you to your core and made you hot all over. it was erotic and it made you sweat.

the two of you continued to move together, his calloused fingers dug into the meat of your hips, enough to leave bruises.

"such a pretty girl."

the sex became harder, like a carnal need for the two of you to reach climax. for him to breed you, he pressed his chest against your back and wrapped both of those strong arms around your middle.

you whined and he panted heavily in your ear. he ached all over for you. his cock bullied into you and his breath was ragged.

"john."

"my girl. my wife." he purred and it sent you over the edge. like fire in your veins.

you clutched onto the bed under you, your back arched and you climaxed. you felt it take the air out of your lungs as he continued to batter your pussy. all in the name of growing your family.

your core throb as his continued movements. you panted heavily and let him get close to his own orgasm. his forearms clenched around you as he

he finished inside of you, and dropped his arms from around you waist. he slowed down and then pulled out. he took you into his arms and kissed at your sweaty neck.

"mmm, my good wife." he said with love in his voice. his cock was still painfully hard. one round wasn't going to make sure his little missus got knocked up! he rubbed his slick cock against your back and said, "perfect for me. we're gonna make a big family, love."

you smiled while still panting and held onto him tightly. you could feel your husband's love as he spooned you. he kissed your neck tenderly and you said, "get me some water and we can go again."

-

you rubbed your achy middle when you felt your son shift against your kidneys. you then poked your belly, "you calm down there." currently he was known as john jr. but you were convincing your amazing, lovely, handsome husband that there were more names than just john.

for now, he was known as peanut. you checked the noodles for the pasta dinner while price was chopping up the mushrooms for the sauce. his sleeves were rolled and those strong arms were on display.

you made a face,

you looked at pumpkin who was seated by your feet, waiting for her chance to have just one noodle. you chuckled and looked at price while you bent down a little to feed the german shepherd one of the penne noodles before you went back to the noodles

"i saw that." price said with a chuckle even if he back was turned to you. he was smiling however. he wouldn't expect anything different from you. when he finished with the mushrooms, he slung a bulky arm around your middle and kissed your cheek.

you turned your head to look at him and giggled, "i love you."

he kissed you on the lips then said, "i love you more. now and forever."

[pupkashi]

mistletoe-go

satoru comes up with a new holiday tradition

a/n: hi friends !! this is a silly little thing i thought of when i went to michaels the other day and saw their christmas decorations ! let me know what u guys think :3

wordcount: 949

masterlist

satoru sees an artificial mistletoe at the store one day, his eyes linger on it for a bit, walking past it and straight to what he needed to buy. the little plant lives in the back of his head the entire time he’s walking around the store, should he buy it? you guys had already decorated for the holidays, what’s one more thing?

he snags two of the small fake plants and adds them to his cart, smiling to himself as he pays for them, already planning on exactly where to put them.

you don’t notice it when you greet satoru in the living room, smiling at him and welcoming him home.

“did you find the right batteries for the lamp?” you asked, watching as he tossed the bag to the side, grabbing what looked like a clump of leaves and tying it up so it dangled from the ceiling.

“yeah i did, can you come look at this? wanna make sure you like the placement” he smiles, holding back his maniacal giggles as you step close and closer to him, until the two of you are finally under the plant. “oh would you look at that! we’re under the mistletoe” he grins.

you can’t help but smile, laughing at his antics and rolling your eyes lovingly. “that we are” you hum, leaning into him a bit, “you know what that means right?” satoru looks into your eyes excitedly, already leaning forward as his eyes dash from your eyes to your lips.

“kiss me sweetheart, it’s tradition” he mumbles, a small smile as you lean in closer to him, lips only centimeters apart when you abruptly stop. it makes his eyes shoot open and brows furrow, lips forming into a pout, “why’d you stop?” he whines.

“don’t you hate tradition?” you tease, watching as he rolls his eyes, one arm slipping around your waist and pulling you flush against him, the other slipping behind your neck as he crashes his lips into yours.

he pulls away with a satisfied smile on his face, eyes practically sparkling as you chase his lips for one last peck, pulling away from him. he doesn’t tell you of the extra mistletoe in the bag, opting instead to sneak it into his pockets, just in case.

it’s two days later when you’re sitting across the kitchen bar from him, mindlessly eating cereal and watching him making himself some eggs, your mind so focused on the muscles of his back moving you don’t see the outline of the faux mistletoe in the left pocket of his sweats. you don’t even register what he’s doing until he’s standing in front of you, fishing in his pocket and holding his arm up over the two of you.

you look up, eyes meeting the same leaves that were hung up only a couple feet away from the two of you. “did you take that down to put it in your pocket?” you laugh in disbelief, satoru only shakes his head proudly.

“i bought two, one for home and one to go,” he explains, leaning over the counter and placing his lips onto yours, you could taste his honey chapstick when you licked your lips after.

“isn’t the point for it to be, i don’t know, random? by chance? like the Christmas spirit bringing two people together?” you ask, twirling your spoon a bit, head resting in the palm of your hand, ogling your lover as he stretched, heart faltering when his abs flexed a bit.

“oh cmon sweetheart, fate already brought us together, i think the Christmas spirit can take this year off,” he smiles, “I’ll be sure to do the mistletoe-ing this year.”

satoru was true to his word, carrying the small decor item everywhere the two of you went. you were caught off guard the first time, you knew he was serious about ‘mistletoe-go’ as he called it, but you didn’t expect him to pull it out in front of the first years.

your face burned as you eyes went wide, satoru already puckering his lips to kiss you.

“ooooo sensei!” yuji teased, giggling, megumi and nobara had made face of slight disgust, still looking out of the corner of their eyes to see if gojo would get rejected.

“cmon sugar plum don’t embarrass me infront of my kids” he whispers, you roll your eyes at him, placing your lips onto his quickly, laughing when the students shout a mix of ‘ew’s and ‘aw’s.

satoru continue to pull the mistletoe out: at the grocery store, on walks together, anywhere around the house, even at a restaurant once.

everytime he’s act surprised, ‘who put that there?’ he’d say, a smile on his face as he furrowed his brows in faux concentration before sighing, ‘gotta do what you gotta do!’ he’s smile, leaning in, ready to catch your lips in his.

you’d indulge him everytime, not caring where you were. you’d both go in for a quicker second peck, smiling into it as you both pulled away. satoru always had pink dusting his cheeks afterwards, though he’d swear you were lying to him every time.

after such a successful first year satoru made it a tradition. mistletoe-go was something he looked forward to every year, never failingto remember, breaking it out earlier and earlier over time.

“this was the best purchase ever” he smiles, holding the bundle of leaves above the two of you.

“i don’t know those batteries were really great too” you tease, leaning in and pressing your lips to his, the familiar taste of his chapstick meeting your tastebuds.

you’d never admit it to him, but you loved mistletoe-go just as much as he did.

taglist (send and ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

[girliism]

girl dad!art who has to accept the fact that his little girl is now a teenager.

“mickey mouse pancakes again?” you walked into the kitchen dropping a kiss on art’s shoulder. “she likes them.” art mumbled. it was saturday, so art spent all morning making pancakes, eggs, sausages everything so you all could sit down and eat together.

“hi family, bye family.” your daughter walked pasted the two of you heading for the door, beach bag in hand. “um, where do think you’re going.” art turned around, hand resting on his cocked hip. “to the beach with katie, don’t worry about breakfast we’re gonna stop and get ihop.” your daughter explained going to reach for the doorknob. “wait, and who okayed this?” your daughter sighed closing the door turing to face the two of you. “mom did, she didn’t tell you?” art and your daughter turn to look at you matching blue eyes focused on you. your eyes flick between them. “i totally forgot that was this saturday love.” your daughter pouted a little. “i can still go right?” you gave her nod. your daughter made a sound of of excitement. “thanks! i’ll text you when we get there bye mom, see ya dad.” and with that she was out the door.

your turn in your chair to face art, he’s still staring at the front door. “see ya dad.” art scoffed “when did i become just dad, and saturdays are supposed be family day.” you got up from your chair to wrap your arms around him. “honey, most fifteen year old girls don’t always wanna spend saturday with their parents, she’s a teenager now, we’re kinda the last thing on her list at the moment.” you gave him pat on the chest for reassurance.

art was hearing none of it, he knew you were growing up but that doesn’t mean the two of you weren’t still close, in his eyes.

it was another saturday and art had the whole day planned out. “bean, if you would please hang up the phone.” art stood in the door way of his daughters room, the walls the that used to to be covered in butterfly stickers and stick figure drawings now replaced with posters of her favorite movies and artists. “yeah, it’s my dad, uh huh i’ll call you back.” she hung the phone asking what was it that he needed. “wanna spend the day with you today, you know daddy daughter outing.” your daughter made a face. “oh, i kinda had plans today.” she didn’t have plans, but laying in her bed sending tiktok’s back and forth with her friends sounded better than hanging out with her dad all day. “oh come on, humor me, at least for two hours.” she reluctantly agreed walking out the door behind art silently begging you to save her.

the car ride started off painful quite before art cleared his throat. “so, what’s going on in your life, any cute boys or you know girls you like.” she wanted to jump out the car. “oh god.” your daughter whispers, covering her face trying to hide from this conversation. “what, i wanna know what’s going on in life you know, make sure you’re being safe. guys, they…. they can be very convincing.” she immediately starts shaking her head. “no no no, dad stop please ok i’m not doing that with anyone and moms already given me the rundown.” art nods his head slowly. “good that’s good, you’re too young anyway.” the rest of the car ride after that was pleasant, she spent it telling him about the project she’s working on and how she’s thinking about joining cheer with lily.

“oh my god.” your daughter laughs a little getting out of the car seeing where art had brought them. “and you almost passed up on this.” art shook his head. he had brought them to the broad walk, a place she use to love and come to all the time. the sight of all the rides and deep fried food stands brings back memories of when art would take her here, carrying her on his shoulders as she placed her sticky hands in his hair. “oh, dad you have to go on the drop with me first.” what was supposed to be two hours turned into four as art got dragged around the broad walk. they went on every ride, ate from all the food stands (art may or may not have thrown up behind the porta potties.) before they ended the night on a bench eating cotton candy.

art watched his daughter cross from him, her features no longer covered by baby fat. “hey, bean thanks for spending the day with me.” his daughter just shrugged and smiled. “ehh, wasn’t that bad, you’re kinda fun to hang out with.” art chuckled. “it’s just, i know you’re growing up and i get you’re not always gonna want to come do things like this, so thanks for letting me pretend you’re still my little girl.” your daughter got up from her side of the table and sat next to art throwing her arm around his shoulder. “daddy, you don’t have to pretend, i’m always gonna be your little girl i’m just not a little girl, and yeah i’d much rather spend time with my friends but i guess i put you on the my schedule.” art sighs dramatically, kissing the side of her head. “where did all the time go? tell me you still like mickey mouse pancakes at least.” your daughter gasped as if the question offended her. “of course i still like them, are you crazy?”

the ride home was much better than the ride there. no awkward conversation just laughs and trading of the aux cord. “so, since we have established that i still love you how ‘bout we talk about what car i’m getting for my sixteenth.” your daughter gave art her sweetest smile. “ha! funny, how about you pass first then we’ll talk.” art said back knowing she had already failed twice

(🤗)

[angsthology]

“i am on work trip vacation” — or an alt title: what happens when a group of f1 drivers go on a getaway together

a houseboat sounds like a great idea! ...right?

a/n HELLAUR this was mostly inspired by that one mofy episode “lake life” which to me is very underrated i love that episode SO much. anyway here it is it kinda ended up not how i wanted it to be in the first place but oh well :)

THE KANGAROO(KIE) VS. THE WORLD

to be perfectly honest, no one really remembered whose idea it was for them to do this. theoretically, it did sound like a good idea until someone else had the amazing idea:

“what if we rented a houseboat… for all of us…”

the group blinked at the suggestion.

roo, who had been standing next to lando mumbled to him lowly, “are we that close?”

the question made the two turns to each other for eye contact, when their eyes met, lando shrugged.

their attentions were brought away when max spoke up from his seat.

“yeah, but who is paying?”

the group turned to look at each other before agreeing through eye contact and all turn to the dutch driver.

“what? why? this isn’t even my idea!”

“yeah, but…” the group turned to the first porsche driver, “you keep winning…”

he threw his hands in the air, “what?! what does that have to do with anything?”

“you make the most money…” lando answered for her, the words slowly forming in his mouth, “you bought a whole aircraft, a boat won’t hurt your wallet.”

in response, he got a look from the redbull driver.

the woman next to him walked forward, “how about this; you’ve ruled the land, the asphalt if you must; you’ve also had your reign in the air, isn’t it time for you to have something to dominate the seas…?” she carefully propositioned, eyes searching the unreadable dutch looking for any sort of answer.

until eventually, his eyes lit up looking her way, “you’re a genius!” he exclaimed.

“i know, thanks.” she smugly smiled at his reaction.

shortly after, the man speedily walked off somewhere else leaving her with the rest of the grid.

she huffed with a smile playing at her lips, “men are so easy.”

fast forward to where they are now; lando trying to figure out the concept of charles’ attempt at eggs, the latter suspected to be on some kind of edible (currently being silently investigated by george and alex), lance passed out on the couch in an interesting position with his blanket over his face to shield it from the sun, the rest out on deck or still asleep in their rooms.

just as lando did another poke of his… egg? roo walked down the steps from where all the rooms were, eyes still lidded with sleep, hands stretching with a yawn.

“mornin’.” she greeted, the rest present in the room strung along good mornings as such.

walking over to the smell of burning, she felt the ground tilt to the side, making her lose her balance following where the dip goes. the rest in the room too fully woke up at the tilt—a large horn following. lance, emerging from his blanket and sitting half up grumpily, lando quickly grabbing his plate of eggs to stop it from falling off the counter (though, he regretted doing so, he would much rather the eggs get eaten by the floor rather himself.)

the aston martin driver on the couch then snatched the walkie-talkie on the coffee table next to him and barked into it, “VERSTAPPEN!”

max, happily conducting in his captain’s deck, apologized through the walkie sheepishly, “ehe—sorry.”

from out on the deck, came the sound of the french, “honey, slow down, you are waking up the kids.” just as he put the walkie-talkie back on the table next to him, pierre heard the response coming from the same channel,

“gasly, i will throw you overboard.”

just as he grumbled that, the second haas driver stumbled down the stairs, face still a little sleepy (naturally).

“someone’s grumpy this morning.” he commented before taking a seat next to alex on the dining table behind the counter where lando hastily stared at a piece of his egg.

“fuck off.” he grumbled before covering his face with his blanket once more.

george, sat across of mick, stared at his co-worker still drifting off on the table, “‘horn wake you?”

“no, radio.” he mumbled.

the girl finally went back to walking over to the ferrari driver in the kitchen.

“what’s cookin’, mcqueen?” she greeted.

he looked back to her smiling then continuing his focus on the pan, “eggs!”

the woman looked towards the brit with a plate on the counter, raising her brows for confirmation. in response, he frowned with his eyes closed, shaking his head.

at that, she walked over to the fridge and grabbed the carton of orange juice, pouring it into a cup before walking over to where lando sat and hauled herself up into the stool.

“here goes nothing.” she heard the whisper from the side, looking over to see lando carefully putting the piece of egg in his mouth with his eyes closed.

she cringed when she heard a crunch coming from his bite.

“i think that was a shell…” he cried.

the girl beside him frowned and pat his back just as carlos walked down the stairs, behind him two large dogs followed.

she gasped at the sight, “good morning, babies,” she greeted sweetly, crouching down to pet the two dogs.

passing by, carlos smiled, “good morning, sweetheart.”

roo gave him a side-eye as he passed, snickering, she said, “sure.” her expression then turning to one of adoration when she pat her dogs once more.

her attention moved when charles greeted his teammate, “good morning, calos, how do you take your eggs?”

“like god made them,” he said before cracking an egg and pouring them straight into his mouth.

everyone turned to him in shock and disgust, roo herself shrieked at the sight.

“what the hell is wrong with you?!” she yelped in disgust.

charles, face straight, “oh, right, i forgot about that.”

from the dining table, george questioned, “you do that every day? i just do it when i have a nasty hangover…”

carlos looked at him and paused, nodding before answering, “yes.”

roo then laughed smugly into her glass.

“what are you laughin’ at sally?” asked the spaniard.

“i don’t get hangovers.” she bragged, hand reaching over to the bowl of fruit in front of her. her smug face dropped when she held the too-light banana, “what the fuck? are these fucking plastic?!”

charles then turn around and grimaced seeing the look on her face, “oh, yeah, forgot to tell you.” he the paused, contemplating on what he says next, “if you see a bite mark on the apple… no you don’t.”

george then intruded, “wait, wait. i want to go back to how you don’t get hangovers…”

“yeah—how does that even work?” alex asked next.

she shrugged, “well… how it works is that… i don’t drink. —besides champagne that is,” she added with a smile.

“wait what—”

she clapped her hands together, “conversation’s over, i’m going to take my kids for a walk—lando, stop trying to feed them your eggs they only eat things that are edible.”

the ‘cook’ turned around fully offended, “hey!”

“so…”

“please don’t try to make conversation. it’s bad enough you’re here.” again, it wasn’t like she was trying to be rude, but it often came out like that. —she really did hope lando didn’t take it like that.

he scoffed, “oh, come off it, you love me.” he said, while throwing a hand over her shoulder.

the four—lando, roo, bennie, and jet, that is—were currently wandering around the island their boat had docked to. so far on their walk there hasn’t been anything interesting in the island besides the occasional inhabitants of the island (ones that are only visible to the woman anyway).

suddenly, lando let go of her shoulder and went to check his pockets, “oh, right, that reminds me; these has been weighing my pants—”

her attention unmoving, she cut him off, “that or you need a belt.”

he rolled his eyes and continued, “whatever, can you hold this in your pocket.”

finally, that brought her out of her trance, “oh wait—”

she turned around to warn him but it was too late, lando had dropped the item in the pocket hole of her pants only to see it fall to the ground instead.

“wait what—” he grabbed the item off the floor and tried to put it back in her pocket, seeing if he had missed it before only to see it fall to the ground through it again. “what the hell?” without warning, lando put his hand in her pocket all the way through and low and behold; his hand had went through it and peaked out of the bottom of her pants.

he stared at her in confusion.

“yeah, i was going to tell you: my pockets have holes in them.”

“well, no shit, i can fit my entire hand through this—hell, i can even fit both.” he asserted almost going high-pitched. his eyes then changed, visibly remembering a detail she mentioned, “wait—pockets? as in both?”

she rolled her eyes, “yes, drama queen. now can you get your hand out of my pants, do you know how weird this looks?”

“oh, yeah, to who? the wind?” he stated sarcastically as he pulled his hand out of her pocket—if it can still be called that.

the girl was about to answer but her eyes caught something that made her eyes almost pop out of their socket. her hand immediately takes a hold of lando’s upper arm.

“ow!”

ignoring his complains, her eyes still trained on whatever it is she saw and started pulling on his arm.

the brit was still busy complaining on how hard her hand’s grip on his arm was to look up but he still managed to answer, “what?!”

“i think—i think we should uh—go back to shore, y’know, it’s almost lunch, they could be looking for us.”

“no it’s not, it’s only like—” he checks his watch, “—eleven am.” he continues to complain.

but when he couldn’t feel as much pain as before he looked up to see his friend already gone along with the two dogs. he threw his hands in the air, “wha— damn it, roo!”

when he made it back to the beach, she was nowhere to be found, instead he was met with the rottie instead, “oh, hey, bennie, where’s your mum, huh?” he crouched down to give the dog a scratch behind his ear, bennie barked in response.

he—the dog—then turned around and walked over to the side where a white and minty-green volleyball laid, piquing an interest from lando.

when he walked over and grabbed the ball, he heard a call from the other side of the beach.

“oi! you wanna join us for a game?” danny yelled with his hands cupped around his mouth.

without another thought, lando stood up and ran over to the group and joined them. surprisingly enough when he looked to his left, there his friend stood after ditching him in the woods.

he threw his hands in the air when he saw her, “here you are! what the hell was that earlier?”

opting for the easy way out, she replied, “saw something you can’t, you don’t want to know.”

lando—who she knew would steer clear of any further topics involving her abilities—accepted the answer quickly and went back to focusing on the upcoming game.

“so, what’s the game here?” asked the brit.

“it was gonna be two on two but since you’re here i guess, three it is. whose team do you want to be in?”

lando then mulled over his options, go with daniel and mick against roo and zhou or… the other way around. then he remembered just how strong the girl was—he got flashbacks from various sports he had played against her and ones he saw her play, he wasn’t risking it.

“i think i’m gonna stay here, what about you, though? you need one more player?”

the australian looked around until his eyes landed on the rottweiler, a grin made its way to his face, “bennie! c’mere boy!”

when the rottie obliged, roo’s jaw dropped in betrayal.

“first mick! now you too? betrayed by my own boys…”

the german shrugged.

after that, the game went on for a good few minutes. along the lines of those minutes the following had happened;

“what the hell, dan?!”

said man had done an overhand serve with the ball, accidentally aiming it straight where the woman was hitting her upper chest—luckily enough she had managed to save it. but, still, she was a little bit offended.

he couldn’t help but laugh at his own actions—which he swore he didn’t mean to do.

still laughing (all the while the game was still going on), he continues to apologize through it, “i am so sorry karen smith, i swear, it was an accident.”

after that little incident, the girl made it her number one mission to find the right timing for payback.

when she did, she gave it her all into passing that ball hitting it towards the australian’s lower region.

unfortunately for her and luckily for him, he dodged just in time letting it hit the sand instead—unfortunately giving her team a point.

daniel and mick’s eyes were still trained where the ball had landed, seeing how harshly it hit the ground—daniel looked at it more with relief than he’d like to admit.

he turned around from the ball to look at her with ‘offense’, “dude!” he threw his hands up.

without wasting another breath, she pointed at him threateningly, “you hit my boobs! —i target you.”

in return, daniel raised both his hands in surrender and walked backwards to grab the ball and resume the game.

an hour or two later the game finished with daniel and mick on the losing team, leaving the other three in a high.

after high fiving both her teammates, the girl embraced the two men in purpose of gloating, she made sure to say audibly, “so, how did it feel like scoring your first win, boys?” she asked the two, though her eyes stayed on the two opposing teammates.

zhou smiled happily, seemingly glad that he could just participate at all, “feels pretty good, i must say.”

although lando wasn’t quite impressed by her question, “man, shut the fuck up.” he said, slipping out of her embrace to make his way over to the dock with the other five following behind.

“that’s not fair, you play aggressive.” daniel complained half-jokingly.

she was taken aback, “no i wasn’t, are you sure?”

knowing her, he knew her words were genuine(ly confused).

he wrapped his hand and smiled down at her cheekily, muttering lowly, “you don’t know your own strength.”

when they arrived on the boat, the first thing she saw the moment she stepped on the last step up was pierre, still calmly perched on his sun lounger with only his sunglasses protecting him.

the girl stared at him with questioning eyes, “have you moved? like, at all?”

“non.”

she all but shrugged, leaving him to burn under the sun.

when she entered the kitchen slash dining room slash living room, she was greeted with the hypnotizing smell of the food that filled the table—well, what was left of the food.

just as she was walking around said table, she heard the tapping of paws against the wooden floor and before she knew it, she was tackled by the doberman happily greeting her.

“hey, sweetheart, where have you been?” she scratched the dog’s head happily accepting her affection then suddenly being approached by a smaller collie she weren’t too familiar with, “and you… brought a friend?” she carefully stretched her hand out to pet the mystery puppy, “and who do you belong to buddy?”

“mine, actually.” the blonde thai entered the room with a water bottle in his hand. “his name’s otter, or, otto.”

“awh,” she pouted at the information before looking down at the puppy once again, “i love you.” she unhesitatingly hugs the puppy who then wags his tail with even more energy.

alex was about to comment but she beat him to it, “hey, what happened to everyone?”

“uhh—i think esteban took lance out on a boat,”

“i didn’t know ocon was capable of that.”

“not every two-people getaway is in the purpose of murder.”

“sure, tell yourself that.”

“whatever; charles is terrorizing yuki somewhere and carlos went to the bait shop in the island with george.”

“bait shop? is that a bar? there’s a bar here?”

“no– just a normal bait shop… for… fishing… you do know?”

“yes.”

“oh, hey, that reminds me; i’ve been meaning to ask, why didn’t fernando agree to this, again? i would assume he would jump at the chance at the first mention of lake.”

the alpine driver was currently calmly lounging on his chair doing whatever it is people his age does when suddenly two of the younger drivers on the grid appeared behind him.

he paused whatever he was doing when he felt the presence of two demons giggling behind him, he turned around quickly with a flat expression.

“what do you two want?”

they only giggled when he look at them dead in the eyes, earning raised brows expectantly from him.

the man heard whispers of “you say it”, “no you say it” bounced back and forth from the two.

“just say it.” he ordered the moment they got on his last nerve. (well, they were already on his last nerve the moment they arrived but now it was in the negatives.)

the british of the two decided to be the one to start, “we just wondered why… how—”

“we were just wondering why you haven’t turned to dust under the sun.” she cut him off.

now giggling again, lando continued, “it’s just we’re worried, this lake trip is going to have a lot of sun exposure.”

“we still like you, nan.” she finished, both of them continuing their giggling spree.

“you know what, that’s it.” he stood up from his chair, no longer feeling the relaxing peace and quiet he did before, “just like that, i’m not going. you kids are driving me crazy and i need this break.”

their faces dropped at the sudden ‘outburst’, both of them scurrying behind him to beg and plead for his mercy.

“uhh—he already had other plans.” she paused, then looking over him, “and what are you doing here?”

“trying to find a frisbee for the three of us.”

she tilted her head in question.

“me, otto, and… jet.”

“oh. alright, go nuts.” she then stands up from the ground, popping her head out the window that goes out to the deck, “mick, lan, dan, zhou, any of you eaten anything yet?”

she got a chorus of no’s and not yet’s in response.

“i—you are seeing this, correct?”

“looking at the same thing as you are.”

after a good lunch break with the four men, they all had went their separate ways to spend the afternoon and after a lot of exploring, roo found her way back to the deck where the alphatauri driver is still lounging. though now he is fast asleep, —and sunburnt.

she didn’t say anything else opting for nodding her head and slowly moving to the sun lounger beside her—vision directly facing the burnt french.

seeing as she was no longer standing next to him, he crouched down, “what are you thinking about, cariño?”

she shrugged, “nothing… just going to relax here.”

safe to say he did not trust her answer, he squinted as he stood back up.

the spaniard crossed his arms, “can i trust you…”

at that, the woman looks up craning her neck, she then pulls down her sunglasses to bat her eyelashes at him with a sweet smile.

he couldn’t help but reciprocate her energy. with one last smile, he turned around, and by chance he was met with lance who were just passing by. he grabbed the aston martin driver and whispered warningly—all the ‘sweetness’ from his previous encounter dropped, “that is a smile of a con-woman. do not trust her, watch her.”

before lance could even react, carlos was already long gone.

something bad had happened. he left for ten good minutes and he already heard the french-accented sound of agony coming from the deck.

next thing he knew, he was already there with the rest of the drivers all crowded there too to witness what just happened—arriving just in time for the sound of splashing on the side of the boat could be heard.

roo was already there with her hands on the side of the boat, looking down at the man overboard.

all the drivers followed where she was and where her eyes were brightly looking at with a cackle, squished together to all stand along the boat railings to see the emerging alphatauri driver from under the waters.

the girl, still laughing her ass off was getting cursed out in french, even hearing her full name coming out of her mouth.

carlos immediately snapped his head towards her direction, “what did you do?!”

she was still far too busy laughing, leaving the frenchman to answer angrily for her, “espèce de connard!” he cursed at her, “she fucking slapped my sunburn!”

that statement itself had made lando spilt a single cackle, zhou and mick covering their mouth in self-control after imagining pierre’s words.

said man give the three a large glare that didn’t really change their state.

the spaniard then turned to lance with eyes wide, “i told you to watch her!”

“i’m not her babysitter!” he defended, “—lando is! i gave him a fifty-dollar bill to do it!” he continued his defense. (which quite frankly didn’t help him much.)

“so you gave a child a job to watch another child?!” carlos fumed.

“i— well you got me there.” the canadian shrugged and let go of it.

lando, hearing his name, quickly chimed in with offense lacing his tone, “hey! in my defense; i handed the job over to charles!”

everyone then turned to the resident monégasque. he threw his hands in defense, when he spoke his tone a lot less defense-y more reasoning, “what? i am on vacation, i’m not babysitting!”

of all this happening, they all failed to notice the angry frenchman emerging from the stairs—skin red and dripping with lake water.

his wet steps walked slowly towards the culprit—the war criminal in a diy ripped clothing, “count your days.” he threatened lowly, accent thicker than usual, before walking inside the houseboat funnily, body still aching from his ‘little’ predicament.

te1enoviyuh 🎵 Pitbull, Marc Anthony • Rain Over Me (feat. Marc Anthony)

liked by awstenknight, f1, and 6,835,736 others

tagged: carlossainz55

te1enoviyuh D.O.G. — drivers only getaway

two notes for this one:

pierregasly i am... sorry, truly

@ all of u, youve all behaved accordingly so i gift u this picture he took when my phone went missing apparently

see all 2,836 comments.

selvnika oh this gave me a whiplash actually

dunphyrrari selvnika ure so right for this queen

thesainzist HELLO

thesainzist GOOD MORNINGGG SAILOR

thesainzist i thank u for ur service u are a god 🙏🏼

pierregasly die

siriuslyricciardo pierregasly NAHH I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED ON THAT BOAT

backbiteroo pierregasly tea is BOILING

te1enoviyuh backbiteroo his skin actually

pierregasly te1enoviyuh PÉRIR

mclarenovia watch them be super cryptic about this whole getaway

sixteenparx awsten at the scene of the crime once again 📸

awstenknight sixteenparx CAN YOU JUST LET ME LIVE

sixteenparx awstenknight no

aepsainz YARG

aepsainz on behalf of chillination we thank you and owe you for your service we will never forget this 💪🏿

sebastianvettel Have fun!

liked by te1enoviyuh

taglist; @treehouse-mouse @disneyprincemuke @yansbolobao @leilanixx @judespoision @vellicora @bborra lemme know if u wanna be added <3

[nomairuins]

most lamp-connor communicwtion is just saying things repeatedly with no apparent pattern. examples of late r the chorus to kiss I was made for loving you and just going Pwincess.....

also everytime i spend a lot of time with lamp theres sort of a etymological cambrian explosion for lamp-connor speech. Recent update is when saying "If thats what you want" or "Whatever you want" or "Its up to you"* i only say If thats your true hearts wish..... and i accidentally said it to mother the other day. dire

*all phrases i say very often bc i have 0 backbone and if somebody else makes a decision i do not disagree with it bc im scared ill be killed in real life. its not all that serious w lamp tho its mostly judt abt what order were buying things in sdv

[jeneseoquoi]

nct 127 | hyung line + fluff

♡ random fluff with our favorite ilichil hyungs ♡

(note: i was listening to 'eleven' by khalid when writing these so they were originally gonna be like time stamp scenarios, but then it just turned into random fluff for jn, ty, dy, and yt. so basically ignore the random time stamp in taeil's lmao. also, i was going to do all nine members until i hit a block therefore it's only hyung line for now. if you guys want a part two for the rest of the members, let me know! oh and i'm notorious for switching tenses in my fic writing so if that bothers you, this here is your warning lmao.)

taeil: the sunlight bleeding through the light colored curtains, taeil’s soft hums as he moved about the kitchen and the subtle warmth from the bacon frying on the stove made for such a peaceful morning. you glanced at the clock as you pulled the eggs out of the fridge, carrying them over to the stove; 11:31 am. taeil wasn’t normally this eager to get out of bed at this time, but when he heard your stomach growl for the fourth time that morning, he just couldn’t go back to sleep. not when his love was practically starving.

“what are you smiling about?” taeil questioned, breaking you out of your short daze.

“nothing.” you giggled causing him to cock an eyebrow. “this is just nice. the two of us, cooking breakfast together in our own apartment. nowhere to be but here, with each other.” you sighed happily. taeil couldn’t help but laugh at your sudden tenderness.

“you’re so sentimental honey,” he walked over to you, pecking your cheek, “but you’re right.” he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder. his fingers played with the diamond on your left finger, sighing in contentment.

“there’s no place i’d rather be than here at home with you.” 

johnny: you sipped the last of your wine as you put the finishing touches on the canvas in front of you.

“okay! ready when you are.” you smiled as you admired the masterpiece you created.

“it’s about time.” johnny retorted sarcastically. “okay, on three. one, two, three.”

you both picked up your canvases, turning them to face each other before busting out laughing.

as your guys’ laughter died down, you spoke up “it’s safe to say that maybe we shouldn’t have had two whole bottles of wine BEFORE starting the paintings.”

he laughed loudly, “nah, that makes this so much better honestly. these belong in the louvre.”

you giggled, absentmindedly reaching for your glass, but stopped shortly as you remembered the last drops you finished just moments ago.

“looks like you’re empty. should I pop open the next bottle?” he asks, gesturing toward the empty glass in your hand.

you shake your head. you’d only been on a couple of dates with johnny so far, but he made you so comfortable. he was easy to talk to and get along with plus he made you laugh. not to mention he was undeniably attractive sat across from you with his bare face, loosened up black black button up, and an unmistakable lusty, hazy look in his eyes. it was no wonder how you eventually made your way to his side of the coffee table, and into his lap. as if instinctual, he wrapped his arms around you, settling them on your lower back.

“ready to call it a night? should i get you a taxi?” he questioned, trying to analyze your face.

you shook your head, “nope. as a matter of fact,” your voice barely above a whisper, looking between his eyes and lips, before leaning in, “i have something better we can do.”

a sly remark threatened to leave his lips, but before it had time, he leant forward meeting you the rest of the way. 

taeyong: the elevator began to descend as you pressed the floor number for your boyfriend’s studio. stepping out as the elevator dinged, you made your way down the hallway, two coffees in hand. not long after knocking, the door to the studio flew open, revealing a smiling face.

“you’re here!” he exclaimed.

“i’m here! and i brought coffee.” you smiled back at him, carefully shaking the cups in your hand. he grabs them from you, leaning in to give you a peck as a greeting & thank you all in one.

“come in, i was just in a writing block and you’re the perfect inspiration i needed.” you could feel warmth rise in your chest from his sweet words. he pulls a chair next to his, patting the seat for you to sit, and you happily do.

“tell me what you think of this.” he plays the track he’s been working on, and you bop your head along to the beat until a familiar humming captures your attention. “wait, tae…is that me???”

a flush comes to his cheeks as he stops the track.

“maybe. do you remember where it’s from?” you try your best to recall, but it just doesn’t come to you. slightly amused by your stumped look, he gives you the answer.

“it’s from a few weeks ago when i was having trouble sleeping. you stayed up with me all night, and at some point you started humming. something about it was so soothing, that i was able to finally fall asleep to it. and it’s been stuck in my head since.” your face softens as he recounts the memory.

“so i thought, why not make it a song that i can listen to forever.”

you feel a burst of butterflies release in your stomach and before you can help it, you find yourself blurting out the words you’ve been wanting to say to him for a while.

“i love you taeyong.” he reached forward, clasping your hands in his and let out an excited giggle, “i love you too.” 

yuta: you sighed deeply, throwing back what felt like your fourteenth shot of the night. you came to this new years eve party in hopes of getting to spend some quality time with and hopefully confessing to your crush, but since you guys arrived he’s been preoccupied with all his friends. i mean what did you expect, he did invite you to their annual lonely hearts nye bash, but you couldn’t help the part of you that hoped he invited you to make each other’s hearts less lonely. you shook your head, pouring yet another shot from the liquor bottle in hopes of drowning your thoughts. that was until you heard a familiar sound.

“alright it’s about a minute to midnight…” you heard the host of the ball drop say on the tv.

you jumped off the counter with a loud sigh, a sense of urgency suddenly taking over you. it was now or never. you threw back the shot and marched out of the kitchen in search of yuta. he wasn’t hard to find with his dark orange hair and sparkly party hat standing out in the small in crowd of his friends. you called his name, walking straight over to where he was standing in front of the TV with a shot glass.

“hey! where’ve you been? i thought you left.”

you shook your head, “yuta listen, I have something to tell you.”

“TWELVE, ELEVEN…” his friends started counting down.

“right now? can it wait?” he gave you a confused look.

it’s now or never. you shook your head, and tapped fully into your liquid courage.

“yuta, i like you. and i came here tonight because i want to be your new year’s kiss.” he looked like a deer caught in headlights at your sudden confession, but before his brain could even formulate a response he was interrupted by the shouts of his friends.

“FOUR, THREE, TWO…”

without another thought, he cupped both of his hands around your face, pressing his lips softly to yours. it was only a couple of seconds, but it was the best ones of the new year so far.

doyoung:  it was early. too early almost, considering the amount of times you’d woken up through the night to tend to the new addition in your little family. it’d only been about two weeks since doyoung and you had brought home your new child, and it was safe to say the adjustment was proving to be more draining than you guys imagined. due to this, things around the house had started to pile up, quick. so it was a little surprising when you rolled over to the other side of the bed and felt…emptiness. the space was cold, meaning your partner hadn’t been occupying it for a while. you sat up, stretching your arms above your head before venturing out from under the warmth of the covers in search of him. on your way toward the kitchen, you stopped by your child’s room, barely inching the door open to see them fast asleep. you walked into the kitchen immediately spotting doyoung at the sink. a smile crept on your face as you watched him wash & rinse the dishes in his pink gloves. quietly making your way over to him, you wrapped your arms around his torso, startling him. he tsk’d, turning off the water and removing his gloves, before turning to face you.

“nooooo. why are you up?” he whined, making you scrunch your face at him.

“am I interrupting something?” you ask with a giggle.

“of course not, but…” he sighs, “i wanted to get the house cleaned up a bit before you woke up. i know you’ve been so tired lately, so i just wanted to take one more thing off your plate.”

a rush of warmness radiates over your body causing you to lean toward him for a kiss, which he happily accepts.

“you’re so good to me” you whisper against his lips before he pulls away. “i know. but you deserve it.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hangover 1

Warnings: dubcon, noncon, other possible triggers. Proceed with caution.

Note: can't stop, won't stop. Please leave any and all feedback! 💚💚💚💚💚💚

Part of The Club AU

“Boris, I need that big breakfast,” you call through the window.

“Yeah, yeah,” the cook gristles back as he clinks a plate onto the metal, “you don't wait.”

“It's been twenty minutes,” you rebuff as you take the hot dish and veer around Monica at the counter.

You come around and carry it over to the only customer at a table. The officer came in looking underslept and worse for wear. A bruise is faded to yellow under his eyes and his stubble is just shorter than an actual beard.

“Here you are, honey,” you put on your customer service voice, “more coffee?”

“Yeah,” he puts his phone face down and unwraps the cutlery.

You go to the machine and grab a pot. You return and fill his cup as he jabs at the scrambled eggs.

“There ya go, honey, anything else I can do for you?”

“Yeah, stop calling me honey,” he snarls.

“Oh, sorry… sir.”

You back away and retreat back to the counter, offering more top ups as you burn with embarrassment. You suppose you can come on strong when you're looking for tips. Besides, you can't blame him for being grumpy. He seems to have a good reason for it.

You put on a fresh pot as you replace the urn on the burner. You dip behind the counter as Monica brings Vi her tea and egg whites. The old lady is one of the mainstays of the place.

“So,” Monica turns her back to the customers and lowers her voice, “how's Will?”

“I think he's liking college… must be having fun since I never hear from him,” you shrug, “only asks when he can come get his laundry done.”

“Typical, I'm not looking forward to Brandon being that age.”

“Yes, enjoy them while they're young and sweet,” you cluck.

“Waitress!” The cop booms from his table.

“Chipper guy,” Monica mutters under her breath as you turn on your heel.

You go back to the table. You notice the wrinkles in his uniform, the buttons aren't lined up properly either. He has his hand on his forehead. He leans over his plate as his shoulders tense and you see his boy racking.

Oh god, no! You've seen this before. Will would get like this when he brought home the flu.

“Oh no, just…”

You put your hand on his back and urge him over the plate as he pukes. You smell the alcohol then. You rub between his shoulder blades as he retches, not bringing up much more than the few bites he took.

“I'll get ya something,” you pull the towel from your apron and offer him that.

You try not to wrinkle your nose as you pick up his plate and carry it behind the counter. You dump it in the bin as Monica lets out a blech. You agree but you don't want to bring too much attention to the situation.

You go into the kitchen and wash your hands. You find a bucket and bring it out to the cop. He's bent over the table, head on his arms.

“Hon– sir,” you put the bucket on the table, “you want some water?”

He doesn't react. You go and get water for him, setting it by his elbow. He breathes heavily but doesn't move.

“You gonna be sick again?”

“No,” he grumbles, “I'm fine.”

You open your mouth but think better of it. You almost wonder if he's actually a cop. Maybe you should call the real ones.

You leave him and go to hide behind the counter. You have enough to worry about between tuition and your mortgage.

“Guy's a mess,” Monica whispers.

“Just a bit,” you agree.

“It's not even noon…”

“Shhhh, he's having a rough one,” you say, “he'll go eventually.”

“As long as he pays his bill,” she tuts.

“Yeah, let's hope,” you frown and peek over your shoulder. So much for a decent tip.

🍽

The cop leaves about an hour after he got there. You forget quickly with the lunch rush. You spend your last few hours running yourself ragged.

You exchange your apron for your coat and leave through the side door. As you come into the alley, you notice the cruiser parked beside the dumpsters. You sidle by, stopping as you see the figure strewn over the back seat.

It's the same cop that was in the diner. You're content to keep going but your shoe hits a shape that jingles. You look down, a set of keys that can be for nothing other than the car in front of you. Those doors only open from the outside… wow. You won't call the guy a disaster, you can't exactly say you're any better.

You bend and pick up the keys. You unlock the door and open it, the edge hitting the dumpster. You don't know what to do so you just grab the cops ankle and shake his leg.

“Sir,” you raise your voice.

He throws his arm off his head and props himself up on his elbow, “what?”

“Um, you dropped these,” you place the keys by his shoe. “Sorry.”

He grunts but doesn't respond. You back up, leaving the door open. He slowly slides to the edge of the seat and hands his legs out of the car, bracing the door as he wipes the sleep from his eyes.

“Was sleepin’ good,” he growls.

“I… I was just checking on you… are you okay?”

“Does it matter?” He pulls himself up, snatching up the keys and slamming the back door. “Doing just fucking fine.”

“Alright, I wasn't…” you show your palms defensively, “have a good day officer.”

“Thanks, waitress,” he scoffs.

You bite down on his tone. It's not the first time you've been spoken to like that. In your line of work, it's all too common, and as you get more years under you, it's just how it is.

You turn and head towards the street. The engine rolls over behind you and as you near the end, you hear the tires crunching on pebbles. You barely manage to move out of the way as the officer steers into the street. You just stand back and watch him veer off. As bad as your day might be, his seems worse.

[germhammy]

“Girls Night 3- The Challenge pt 3”

Kent placed the next nugget bowls in front of the four

Harley: oh this is good. Very sweet with a bit of spice. Mixes nicely. But I would prefer honey to the maple syrup

Wednesday: I like the maple coconut. But now you got me wanting to taste the honey. If you like honey? You should ask Eugene for a jar.

Harley: which one is Eugene?

Eugene waved

Harley: hi

Xavier: this is very sweet.

Mr Johnson: very tropical

Kent revealed the sauce. “Lovely Coconut”

Enid cleared the bowls as Kent brought out the next nuggets

Mr Johnson: these are hot! Very Asian

Xavier: ack. I don’t like these. -reaching for a slice of bread-

Wednesday: Thai chili. Nice. Not sure I care for it on chicken nuggets

Harley: yeah. These nuggets have the wrong coating. Bread crumbs are not it. Oh! Wednesday, do you like chili crisp? I know it’s Chinese and we are eating a Thai sauce but

Wednesday: yes! I like it on boiled eggs

Kent revealed the sauce: “Thai tease”

Harley: this is great! Nice choices. So far nothing I tried.

Enid came to clear the bowls. Kent ran back and brought out the next set

Kent: stay out here for the taste and reveal while I prepare the next sets

With the new bowls in front of them the four tasters ate their nuggets while Kent went back to the preparing station

Mr Johnson: now this is hearty. Got a bit of a kick

Xavier: definitely getting hotter

Wednesday: now this would go nicely on a burger!

Harley: definitely! Say, one of the catering is a burger night. I want to put this sauce on the burgers. Pippy, do you remember when that was?

Pippa: I think it’s Thursday. The first day of shooting

Wednesday: I will have to make sure my homework is done so I can be there. Mr Burton please inform my mother?

Mr Burton: of course

Xavier: I want to come!

Wednesday: absolutely not.

Xavier: but you get to go! Why can’t I?

Harley: because Wednesday has reason to be there. You don’t. Bystanders will only get in the way! Especially on the first night of shooting

Mr Johnson: your friend can come

Xavier: see? The Foundation says I can come!

Mr Burton: no you cannot. The first day. No distractions. I am the director. And also in charge of the episode. I want Wednesday to be there for the first night. I do not need bystanders. Doug, you will not overstep.

Kent arrived with the next set of nuggets

Kent: ready for the reveal? Any comments on the sauce?

Mr Johnson: I would put this on tacos

Harley: barbacoa but hot sauce. So I think it would go nicely with burgers

Kent: -revealing the bottle- Barbacoa Barista! And I got three bottles because the price was cheaper than just one so I can give you the bottles for burger night

Harley: that great!

Wednesday: barbacoa barista? What kind of a name is that?

[ollieolliewrld]

DMC AND HSR WRITER?????!?!????? i think im in heaven omg. dante and argenti with an s/o who bakes for them?!!??!!! pretty please??!??!! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

OH, this is adorable >.< I will let you know right now I will be making this request into full posts soon bc my heart is so happy with this idea!! <3

0.6k words

Dante

♡He is the happiest man on planet Earth with this

♡As much as he prides himself on his body he cannot resist your creations

♡At first, he was a little weirded out as he is not used to people doing kind things for him 

♡But he sees that you do this out of love and each of your dishes is made special for him

♡This made him emotional when he realized that

♡Knowing that you love him so much that you take the time out of your day to prepare sweets for him brought him to tears

♡Dante starts calling you names like, “Sweets”, “Angel Cake”, and “Honey Buns”, partially as a joke partially because he thinks the look you give him when he calls you those names is adorable

♡He has tried to join you in the kitchen and he was actually pretty good 

♡Granted all he was making were chocolate chip cookies, he knows that baking is important to you so he does his best to respect your craft

♡Loves to come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist while you work

♡He won't be in your way but he adores to spend time with you while you are doing something you love

♡To date, there have been exactly 4 flour fights that ended with you cracking an egg on his head 

♡He cleans you up after and makes sure nothing important was ruined

♡Dante is the type of guy who will bring some of your baked goods into Devil May Cry and brag that these delicious treats were made by his loving and beautiful s/o

♡Literally will not stop, the entire day he is just singing your praise to everyone around him

Argenti

♡This man was so taken back when you first presented him with beautifully decorated cupcakes

♡Here you are the definition of beauty creating baked goods that are not only beautiful in appearance but also taste

♡Argenti is always so excited to try everything you make 

♡Your relationship is so cute because he likes to bring you gifts and you like to bake him things 

♡It is such a loving bond that you share everyone around you is jealous

♡He is not much of a baker but wants to learn the proper way to frost things

♡Argenti would like to be able to spend time with you and add to what you do so aiding you in decorating would be his thing

♡Whatever you make does not just get eaten it is savored 

♡He likes to take the time to fully immerse himself in what you’ve made picking out every taste note 

♡Very much the type of lover to get you both matching aprons that say something cliche like “kiss the chef”

♡This is mainly done so that every time you put it on he has no excuse to not walk over and immediately place a kiss on your lips

♡He feels very lucky to have found a s/o that has such a talent

♡The fact that you have such a cute hobby is one of his favorite things about you

♡He is also the type to now refuse to eat any baked good that was not made by you

♡Once he has tasted the best how could he have anything else?

♡Is convinced that your love and care are what make your baking so good

♡Argenti can also taste how you were feeling through your baking

♡If you ever made him a pie while you were sad he would know within the first bite and then be off on a mission to cure your sadness

[pricegouge]

Fatted Rabbit Part Seven on AO3

Contents

Bearshifter!Price x reader | explicit

The alcohol is definitely making you sentimental and it's hard not to reflect on how isolated you'd been for… so many years. These old locals aren't your friends, but they're certainly friendly. You hadn't planned on putting down any roots here, but then John happened, and now Soap and maybe even Simon. The old Wild fan who you celebrate with when the muppets win. The night receptionist at the gym. You're not sure when it happened, but at some point you'd allowed yourself to become enmeshed - just a bit - in the tapestry of this town.

CW: alcohol consumption, heavy petting but no sex

The place John chooses is understated and casual, for which you're relieved. You don't mind being wined and dined but you'd dressed comfortably, with only skating in mind, so you're glad he hasn't brought you to some fancy touristy place downtown. He holds doors open for you and walks around like a peacock when his hand settles low on your back. He asks for a booth and at this point, you're not even surprised when he tucks in next to you instead of opposite, his big thigh resting warm and sturdy against your own; his elbow placed firmly on the table in front of you so you have to lean against his tricep to read the one menu he's apparently decided you'll share.

It's… nice.

You ask to see the salad section when he settles on some sloppy pile of meats, caramelized veggies, and eggs. He pulls a face at that but obliges and you decide to believe that's not somehow weight related.

"This one looks good," John comments a little too-blandly, pointing at a trough consisting of ninety percent steak and maybe a handful of arugula.

"Are you anemic? Should I be worried?"

John laughs, his arm shaking slightly against your chest. "It's actually your iron levels I'm worried about."

Ah. That's… maybe a little weird, but cute.

"I'm fine, John. Don't have much of an appetite, to be honest."

John looks a little miffed by this but doesn't comment when you ask the waitress for a simple Caesar. He gets his meat monstrosity and asks for it bloody in a voice that could charm the skin of a snake. He knows what he's doing, too, based on the entirely too innocent smile he gives the waitress as he moves onto his drink order, a strawberry shake. You can't help but laugh a little at him.

"I didn't expect you to have such a sweet tooth considering how skinny you are," you confide, a teasing smirk on your face which is immediately wiped straight off when John gives you a hurt, borderline panicked look.

"You think I'm skinny!?"

"Uh… no, like -. I mean, in shape. Fit. Sorry, no, you're definitely not skinny. That was poorly worded." You're floundering, trying desperately to fix whatever it is you'd fucked up. It had never occurred to you that someone wouldn't want to be called skinny, though it makes sense now that someone who clearly put as much work into maintaining his body would never want to be called scrawny. Christ, you'd fucked up. That's twice now. Oh god, he's never going to want to see you again. "I'm so sorry, I only meant -."

But John's peering back at you suspiciously now and it has your hands wringing. "It's okay, honey," he says after a moment, clears his throat. "I uh… lost a lot of weight over the winter. Suppose I'm a little sensitive about it, is all."

You're still a nervous wreck, doubly afraid now that you've upset him. Fucking hell, man's probably got some health issues he's getting over and you had to go and comment on his fucking body. "I'm so, so sorry, I should've thought -."

"Sweetheart, look at me. You're fine. I'm not mad."

Holy shit, he's not. He's -.

Right. This is John.

"Besides, you're right," he continues brightly, beaming at the waitress when she places the shake in front of him. "I am a little twiggy. Let's see if we can't fix that, eh?"

You're still mortified that you even commented on his body. After all the bullshit you've put up with in your life, you know better than to pull this shit. You hadn't meant it negatively, of course, but you know from first hand experience how little that matters. John looks happy enough now, but you won't soon forget how hurt he'd looked after your comment. You're still mulling over the best way to move on when he offers you a sip off his pink treat, dopey smile in place. You can't say no to that and he somehow manages to look even more pleased when you take a sip from his straw.

"So… weight loss… did you have any health scares?"

"Hm?" He jolts, eyes focused entirely on your lips. "Oh, no. Strong as a bear," he winks - weird. "Just lose my appetite under the Arizona sun. Always spend all summer trying to gain the weight back," he laughs, a little sad. "Good excuse to indulge, though."

"Well, indulge away. I do think you look good, by the way. Bet you'll look even better when you're comfortable and confident."

John smiles and kisses your forehead with slightly sticky lips. "Thanks, bunny. I think you look very good too, by the way."

He says it the same way he'd appraised the menu. "Thank you," you mutter, grateful that the waitress chooses that moment to return so he doesn't notice how much you blush from his attentions. It's still odd to you, someone as absurdly handsome as John Price being this sweet on you.

John eats like someone's coming to steal it off his plate. He remembers himself maybe midway through his burger and offers you a bite, but when you shake your head he shrugs and goes back to scarfing it like a stray dog. It's kind of impressive, honestly. More out of curiosity than any genuine hunger, you slowly and obviously grab a French fry from his plate which prompts him to grin goofily around a mouthful and spin the plate so the fries are closer to you. You'd been worried for a moment there that he may have some kind of feeder kink, but the voracity with which he's shoveling food into his own mouth combined with how he picks a singular cherry tomato off your dish has you thinking food might be more of a love language to him. That's okay. Cute. You can handle that.

John doesn't throw in the towel until his plate is completely cleared and when you see him eyeing your half full bowl you laugh and slide it his way. He laughs too, and says he'll make you something at the bar later to make up for it. You're not sure you'll take him up on that, but you won't lie that the ease with which he guarantees your next meal means a lot to you, considering how often a spoonful of peanut butter counts as dinner for you these days.

The waitress asks if you want dessert and John eyes you hopefully.

"You go right ahead, big guy, but I'm out."

With a sigh, he admits he should probably go relieve Simon and the two of you pack up without any sweets.

You follow him to the bar and he guides your Jeep back past a little awning and behind the building. He opens your door for you once you put it in park and gives you a hand down. "You can park right here anytime you need, honey," he says and you can't deny that the privacy afforded by the two surrounding walls is pretty tempting.

John takes you in through the kitchen where you find the most intimidating man you've ever seen in your life. He's muscled like a bull and taller even than John. A shock of pale blond hair; scarred, furrowed brows over dark, blank eyes; a black surgical mask and a matching baby gap t-shirt pulled taut over biceps bigger than your head. Here is a man that could make even Phil flinch just by yawning a little too hard, surely, and when he greets John, his voice is low like an oncoming bulldozer and just as deadly.

"Where the fuck 'ave you been?"

John doesn't even flinch. "Got lunch."

The blond man turns his gaze upon you for exactly forty-three seconds. Technically, his expression is completely neutral, but you can't help feeling like he's brought a pumpkin gutter to your eye socket, taken your measure by literally weighing whatever he finds in there. (Metric, of course, for accuracy's sake.)

"'Hope you 'ad fun. I fuckin' quit."

"Sure, sure," John rolls his eyes. He nods toward the front of the shop, "How's he doing?"

"Can't speak English."

"You can barely speak English, you filthy manc. How'd he do with customers?"

"Gave out 'is number three times, if that's what you're looking for in a keep."

John shrugs, "If it keeps 'em coming back."

"Gaz would've never."

"No, Gaz would've gotten theirs. He good with the till?"

"'Ardly trusted him with it, did I?"

"Christ, Simon, did you train him on anything?"

"Too busy house breaking 'im."

John snorts. "How'd he do, honest?"

"Hmph," Simon grunts.

"Hmph?" John repeats, valley girl inflection.

"Mm."

John gives you a 'holy shit, you seeing this?' look. "That good?"

"Said what I said. This the bird?" Simon nods at you, but John is hardly deterred.

"Yes. Should I extend him a year round offer, then?"

The other man's turn to ignore John: "Hi, pet. Nice to meet you."

"You're Simon, I gather?" You grit down on your resolve and extend him a hand which he gracefully doesn't crush in his calloused palm. "I believe I have you to thank for a great coffee date?"

"That's right, so if you ever want to trade up, I know plenty of things -."

But whatever he knows, you never will because John chooses that moment to get adorably jealous. "Awrigh', 'nough of tha'." His accent is thick when his hand finds your shoulder and guides you through the swing door into the front area. You pop out behind the bar, where a roguishly handsome man with a short cropped mohawk and upsettingly blue eyes is already grinning at you, probably having heard every word from the kitchen.

Sure enough, you have enough time to hear Simon warn John he was going to regret that before the mohawked man is inching closer. "Hi, bonnie," he greets you in a thick Scottish accent and you don't even have a chance to respond before John is right there, crowding you just enough to put the Scot on his back foot.

"Soap," John greets the other man, and mohawk smiles warmly at his boss, devilish eyes glinting with easy charm and just a touch of mischief.

"Price. Who's the lass?"

"Your test subject tonight. Pretend she's just a regular customer who doesn't know what she wants -." John guides you around the end of the bar to the very last stool as he speaks. "What would you start her off with?"

"Tha's easy, bonnie lass like her. Sit tight, hen." Soap (Soap?) gets to work behind the bar as John ducks back into the kitchen area for a moment. Whatever Soap's making looks simple enough, maybe four ingredients, but he makes it into an art form, coating the glass with whatever sticky syrup he's using for flavor before pouring his mix in and adding garnish. John returns wielding a laptop just in time to see Soap putting back the ingredients he'd used. Soap misses the small, pleasantly surprised look that crosses John's face, but you don't, and you understand when you take a sip; the light, citrusy flavor not at all what you'd expected when you saw him break out the thick syrup. You can't help your hum of satisfaction and Soap beams. "Good, right? Not too heavy?"

"Nope, just right. Thank you."

"Good, means you'll be able to drink all night," he winks. He turns to John, motioning to the register. "Am I…?"

"No, but you know how much that would cost?" John asks as he settles next to you and powers on his laptop.

"Sixteen ninety nine," Soap answers confidently and you nearly spit the drink back out.

But John is unaffected, sliding you the remote as he pulls up some scheduling app. "Good lad," he tells Soap and the man nods once, before getting lost on the other side of the bar, cleaning glasses.

John waits until the audience has left to sneak a sip from your drink. You raise a brow at him and he nods his approval before returning it to you. You settle on some old Quantum Leap reruns and John conveniently makes it clear exactly then that you need only say if you get bored.

You can't help but grin at him. "Unlikely. My buddy made up a hell of a drinking game for this show. Been a while since I've played it so I'll have to check the rules, but I think I can keep myself entertained for as long as this block goes."

"Drinking game for a show?" John asks, apprehensive.

"'Course, boss," Soap calls from the other end, not bothering to hide his eavesdropping. "When they, then you…" To you he adds, "Drink whenever Scott Bakula looks in a mirror?"

"That's what? One to start? We can do better." And just like that, you text a friend you hadn't been allowed to speak to in years.

You don't, so you send him the new one and within moments you're settling in to intentionally get tipsy, something you haven't done since the first time Phil laid a hand on you. There's a part of you that can't help feeling this is a bad idea, but another, much larger part of you is determined to put these fears in the past. So you share the rules with Soap and John nods approvingly when he pours himself a water to drink along with you. It's silly, and you feel a little weird drinking by yourself, but John's left hand stays rooted to your thigh, and Soap is eager to make sure you drink every time you're queued. He keeps your glass full, each drink slightly different. You comment exactly once that you don't want to mix your liquors and after that, Soap keeps you plied with the same honeyed whiskey he'd started you off with. They're all delicious, and John seems to agree if his tiny nods after each sample is any indication.

Eventually, real customers start bellying up and John sneaks back behind the bar with a kiss to your temple. By now you've switched the entertainment to the game seven you've been dreading, and the quiet old man next to you seems invested so you shoot the shit with him for a bit. Soap does well, from what you can tell. At least well enough that John feels comfortable spending much of the night in the kitchen. He pops out occasionally to offer you scraps, and check the score, says he's 'starting to get invested in these muppets.' John gloms on pretty quickly to the fact that melty cheese is your weak point, and you end up eating nearly a full dinner despite your general queasiness. The small crowd that gathers around the bar is mostly older, but they're all friendly, and the atmosphere is quiet enough that personal conversations eventually grow to include the whole group and you can't help the smile that slowly grows to overtake your face. The alcohol is definitely making you sentimental and it's hard not to reflect on how isolated you'd been for… so many years. These old locals aren't your friends, but they're certainly friendly. You hadn't planned on putting down any roots here, but then John happened, and now Soap and maybe even Simon. The old Wild fan who you celebrate with when the muppets win. The night receptionist at the gym. You're not sure when it happened, but at some point you'd allowed yourself to become enmeshed - just a bit - in the tapestry of this town. It's exactly what you said you wouldn't do, but when John subtly shakes a bottle of Advil at you from behind the kitchen saloon door, you can't bring yourself to regret it. You nod and he brings you out two along with a bottle of water. Soap switches you to ciders after that without being prompted. You're wary at first because of the sweetness, but he assures you the cider is light and crisp - that it comes from New York so you know it's good. You laugh, wondering if he knows, and take your first sip of home in years.

***

The good thing about living out of your car is you're never unprepared for anything. Before ascending to John's apartment, you stop by the Jeep to grab toiletries and pajamas. John grumbles about putting you in his clothes but you'd be mortified if you leaked on them so you make up some (not wholly untruthful) excuse about sensory issues and clothes needing to fit just right which you can see John filing away with the same seriousness he'd been using to prepare his schedule earlier. There's a nondescript door just in front of John's Suburban which he holds open for you. You lead the way up the stairs and laugh when you hear him hum appreciatively at the view it leaves him with. It turns to a squeak when he pinches just below the crease where your ass meets your thigh and then it's John's turn to laugh when the hand you reach back to stop him doesn't shove him away, simply keeps him in place. By now you've reached the landing and as John draws level with you, his heavy palm slides out and over your hip, coming to rest just a hair too low on your waistline to be decent. The landing is narrow, barely enough to fit a man as big as John, let alone your wide frame, but John doesn't seem in a hurry to open the door into his place. The only light source in the stairway is a small night light back behind John's calves and the ambient light coming through his curtained door panel. Backlit and bowed forward, John's presence is overwhelming. His scent - pine, petrichor, something personal - is inescapable and you almost wish he'd get the kiss you know is coming done and over with so you can get to finally (finally) sticking your face in his chest and just breathing.

Of course, then he does kiss you and you don't want it to end.

John's movements as he bridges the gap between you are slow and impending when he steps closer, boots heavy as one wedges its way in between your shoes. You're already impossibly close when he reels you that final inch by the grip he still has on your waist, meeting your lips with a measured duck of his head that leaves your own tilted back, neck exposed to the wide breadth of his hand which he places on the side there, cradling your jaw in such a way it keeps your head tilted exactly the way he wants you.

It's slow, sweet. Hot. John's mustache tickles but not unpleasantly - too neat and well groomed to be prickly. His lips are soft, addictive, and when he deepens the kiss, his tongue scorches across your own. He groans contentedly and somehow you know this ridiculous man is pleased with the taste of you: honeyed whiskey and sweet cider, the bits of greasy cheese he himself made for you.

He breaks off but doesn't go far, burrows his nose right under your ear and takes a deep, steadying breath. "You drive me fucking crazy, bunny. 'S this alrigh'? I can kiss you?"

"Yes," you breathe and he's immediately back on you, both hands framing your jaw now. At some point your own have found the unzipped edges of his Carhart and you try pulling him closer. You only succeed in moving yourself, however, because you'd forgotten John is built like a brick shithouse, even if he thinks he's scrawny.

He obliges you anyway, backs you up enough that you gently bump into the wall, and then your skull is cupped in a protective hand as you're pushed more insistently against it. John is a solid, burning wall at your front. Even through the layers of thermals and jackets you can feel the heat of his skin and you're torn between the desire to be naked under him, sweaty, slick, panting; and to simply see if he'd humor you by holding still long enough to be used like a heating pad.

You pant when John moves to your neck, nipping at the soft skin there until he draws a breath from you that sounds suspiciously like his name. Like this, you can see where his beanie has ridden up just slightly, exposing a bit of hair above his temple and you feel like some repressed Victorian man catching a glimpse of ankle. You're on him in a moment, sniffing his scalp like a fucking dog and you'd maybe feel a little bad about it if not for the way he groans - if not for the way his overwhelming presence makes you feel a little crazy.

"Want you," John tells the bit of décolletage he's uncovered, 'T' enunciated with teeth framing collar bone. Some harefooted intrusive thought has you wishing he'd bite down, wanting to hear it crunch under his jaw. You can feel him now, hard against your hip. He doesn't do anything with it - doesn't grind it into your flesh or bully your hands down to feel the weight of it - but it's enough to know it's there, has your grip moving under his jacket, spanning his ribs.

"John," you gasp again - pleading maybe. Perhaps a warning.

"I know, honey. I know." He sounds miserable. "Won't touch, I promise. But this is okay, right? I can -. We can -."

"Yes."

You're not sure how or when John gets the door open. There's a clatter and a lighting change you barely register from behind your closed eyes and your lifted onto a counter and that's about the hottest thing anyone's ever been able to do for you so you spread your thighs wide on instinct and John takes his reward by slotting himself in as if he bought the fucking deed. "Won't touch, sweetheart, I promise," he repeats as he shoves your coat off your shoulders and admires his handiwork. "Just want to feel you. I want -. Want to…"

Instead of running his intentions by you verbally, John drops to his knees and buries his face in the crotch of your leggings. You yip in embarrassment and try to scramble further onto the counter to get away from him but his grip on your thighs may as well be made of iron. "John, that's… I'm -."

You're interrupted by the heavy sound of his breathing as he takes a fucking whiff of your cunt.

"John!"

"Christ, bunny, I could eat your right up," John murmurs, lips still pressed against your pussy. You gape at him but the look he gives you from under his heavy brow isn't chastised at all.

He looks rabid.

You gulp and John chuckles, deep and dark. "Not gonna," he assures you yet again, but the hot streak he licks up the seam of your leggings almost has you wishing he would. "Not gonna," he says again, and you realize he's saying it for his own benefit when he stands and places a quick peck on your mons. You're briefly embarrassed by the hair he can probably feel through your thin layers, but you catch him taking another quick sniff which -.

Well, it's odd but at least it completely eliminates every ounce of self-consciousness you've ever felt about your pussy.

John groans, works his teeth against the texture he's found.

"Not gonna?" you tease him, not really at all surprised by how breathless you sound.

John huffs, hot and humid where it gets trapped in the fabric beneath his mouth. "Not tonight," he agrees.

"C'mere." You try to help his weak morals by hauling him up by the shoulder. It's a laughable attempt at best, but John doesn't laugh as he obliges.

"Shouldn't have gotten you drunk," he pouts against your lips.

"Still would've been on my period," you remind him, embarrassed as if the word shouldn't even be spoken at a time like this.

"Always did like my lamb bloody."

"John!" he laughs and you tap him lightly on the pec, which only seems to please him more.

"You won't let me play with my food, bunny?" He's looming over you now, hand resting on the counter behind you. You try to imagine him with blood - your blood - all over his face and find -,

"It's not gross?"

John's smile is wolfish and you're caught in his jaws. "No, sweetheart. One of my favorite treats."

"Oh." That's -.

Why doesn't that gross you out?

"We'll talk about it in the morning, yeah? For now, let's get you comfy and ready for bed."

He gives you one final, lingering kiss. You're not sure when he managed to pry your bag off you, but he retrieves it from the kitchen floor and guides you to his en suite. When he runs the shower, you ask if he plans on joining and the look he gives you is that of an owl spotting a field mouse.

A stupid, drunken voice in your head is starting to believe this man actually wants to eat you.

"Won't touch."

When he leaves, he doesn't close the door so neither do you.

John's body wash doesn't smell like him. It's some citrusy bergamot number, at which you are entirely pissed. Still, the water is hot and the pressure is good so you luxuriate a bit, trying to angle yourself right so that the stream can massage some of your back ache away. You had a blast today, but you'll definitely be happy just to lay down soon. You hope John's not too proper to share a bed with you as you kinda really want to be snuggled. When you exit the shower to find him sitting on his bed, staring at you unabashedly as you towel off, you're pretty sure you have your answer. You give him a little show, giggling when he grunts at the way you bend to reach your bag. Eventually you do have to shut the door on him so you can take care of some more private concerns. He's in flannel trousers and not much else when you finally emerge from the bathroom, still just sitting on the edge of the bed. You stare at him for a moment, a little timid after your show. John is solid: thick muscles cording under a thin layer of fat. You think maybe his skin looks slightly baggy on him, but it's hard to tell through the thick hair that coats him. He lets you look your fill for a moment before motioning you closer with a quick curl of his fingers. You stand between his legs and his big palm skates up over your thigh, hooking his fingers into the band of the men's boxer briefs you wear to bed from where it's visible above your sweats and snapping it lightly.

"Whose are these?"

"Mine?"

"Mm. Coulda given you a pair of mine, if you wanted."

"I can wear my own underwear, thank you," you laugh. "Wait, are you jealous?"

"Yes," John admits easily, fingers pulling at the band as if threatening to take them off.

"Of what? I bought these myself," you laugh again.

"Ah." John has the decency to look sheepish as he gently lays the band back where he found it, double rolled to keep from indenting your skin.

"You're ridiculous, you know?" His jealousy rings a tiny little alarm in the back of your mind but you choose to ignore it until you're sober and can be more reasonable.

"No argument there. Are you ready for bed now or do you want to watch something?" He looks so sweet again, big puppy dog eyes as he looks up at you. This is the man who takes you on dates and kisses your temple in public. It's hard to reconcile him with the starved animal he'd been when he'd had you laid out on his counter, but you find you definitely don't mind the duality.

"Are you up for a movie?"

He nods, "Whatever you want, honey."

"Well, what I want is a stupid kids movie, but that'll probably ruin the mood so, like… you pick."

John just smiles up at you dopily. "That sounds perfect. Anything to help me keep it PG," he winks. It's not a good joke, but he's so proud of it it's hard not to laugh. You decide on Who Framed Roger Rabbit because it's a good goddamn movie and because you don't want to subject him to anything egregiously childish. John laughs at the title and too late you realize your mistake.

"Oh, bunny, you don't think this one will be too scary for you?"

"Shut up," you laugh, fluffing a pillow a little too aggressively in his direction. He pulls it from you easily and uses it to prop himself up against the headboard a bit. The position turns his belly into a perfect pillow of your own and you dive in, kissing the ticklish hairs under your cheek just to watch his abs twitch.

"Brave rabbit. Keep testing me and Judge Doom won't be the scariest thing you see tonight."

"Why do you call me a rabbit, anyway? That a Britishism?"

"Sure."

With John's fingers in your hair and the low buzz of whiskey still in your veins, you only make it to the patty cake bit before you're dozing off.

John notices. "Am I sleeping in here tonight, bunny?" His voice is low, an earthquake at the edge of your hearing.

"God I hope so," you mumble into his belly, mortified to find a bit of drool sticking to his hair. If he notices, he doesn't say anything and you fall back asleep for a while. When the movie ends, his shifting wakes you again. You wouldn't mind except it seems the Advil from earlier has finally worn off and you're starting to get crampy. You shift, restless, but John slots himself against your back, his skin like a furnace on your achy back.

"Shh, I got you sweetheart. Go back to bed." You do, right after pulling at his arm until his broad, warm palm places a good amount of pressure right over your sensitive belly, too content to feel self conscious.

Next>>

[kazzy-boo-baby]

•Making Cookies.. at Night?"•

CG! Natasha Romanoff

CG! Wanda Maximoff

Little! Y/N (She/Her)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Y/N had a plan. A plan that would make her mommy and mama so happy, that'd she get so many kisses once they saw the surprise! She was going to make cookies for Natasha and Wanda all by herself!

She waited all night for Natasha and Wanda to go to bed, and now it was finally time to put the plan in full motion. Y/N crawled out of her bed and started to make her way to the kitchen, making sure to be quiet so JARVIS didn't alert her caregivers.

Once in the kitchen, Y/N was getting out all the stuff she would need. Some flour, chocolate chips, oil, milk, eggs, sugar, and salt. She remembered all the things she would need when Wanda baked cookies.. how hard could it really be to do it by herself?

"Okay.. first, hafta get bowl."

She mumbled to herself, she opened the cabinet door and huffed at the sight before her. The only clean bowl was on the top of the shelf.. dang it! "Ugh.. now hafta use something else." Y/N pouted and tried to think of something else she could use as a bowl, eventually she thought of one of her toy buckets! That could work.

She went into the living room and emptied out her toy bucket, then placed it on the kitchen counter. Now she could officially start! Y/N started off with pouring the flour into the bucket, causing it to fly up everywhere all over her face and onesie. She giggled, "Okay! Next is sugar."

Y/N got out the sugar and started to pour it info the bucket, not bothering to do any measurements or stopping at the sight of almost half the sugar bag pouring into her bucket. "Perfect!" She babbled, clapping her hands.. baking was so easy!

She got out the milk and started to pour it in the bucket, she spilt a little bit on the floor, but managed to get most of it in the bucket. Then came the egg! She grabbed one of the eggs from the carton and cracked it, but a few shells got in there. "Uh oh.." she mumbled, she pouted and thought about what she could do. Then an idea hit her,

"It okay! Mommy and mama won't notice if I put lots of chocolate chips."

She smiled and started pouring the whole bag of chocolate chips on the bucket.

"Y/N? Honey? What are you doing..?"

A voice startled Y/N, she looked over to see it was Wanda. She didn't look mad.. just concerned. "You're supposed to be in bed."

Y/N whined and pouted up at Wanda, "Mama! You not supposed to be awake.. I was making you and mommy a surprise.."

She mumbled. Wanda smiled and walked closer to her, she was starting realize what Y/N was doing. Despite the huge mess on the floor and table, Wanda knew that the ingredients Y/N were using were for cookies.

"Aww.. that's very sweet of you, my love."

Wanda picked Y/N up and started to take her to the bedroom again, "Mama didn't mean to spoil your surprise. But how about me, you, and mommy bake some cookies together tomorrow. Wouldn't that be fun?"

Y/N sighed but nodded, just nuzzling closer to Wanda as she held her. She was feeling tired anyway. "Okay mama.."

Wanda brought Y/N into her and Natasha's shared bedroom, Natasha was already wide awake. She chuckled as Wanda placed Y/N on the bed, "Oh look who it is? Little Miss trouble maker got out of bed, huh?"

"No, no. She was doing something nice. She was trying to make cookies for us. Isn't that sweet?"

Natasha sighed and snuggled close to Y/N,

"Oh really? That's what you were doing? Oh baby.. you know we would've helped you. You don't need to do everything by yourself, honey."

Y/N yawned and just nodded her head, she was feeling very sleepy. Her eyes were doing their best not to close.

Wanda sighed and kissed her forehead, "See? You're so sleepy, my love.."

Natasha nodded and laid Y/N down between the two of them, Y/N was practically already asleep. The two redheads laid beside their little girl, excited about making cookies tomorrow. Eventually, they both fell asleep next to Y/N.. all of them getting a good nights sleep like they deserved.

[topguncortez]

To Build A Home

word count: 5.3k

synopsis: The trials and tribulations of trying to create a family.

➢Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, cursing, vomiting, miscarriage, blood, mentions of blood stains, hospitals, cramps, angst, tears.

Dragon & Rooster Masterlist | Opposites Attract Masterlist

“Oh fuck, Rooster, right there,” Dragon moaned as her nails dug into her husband’s back, surely leaving behind crescent moon marks in his skin. He was thrusting deeply into her, his tip grazing her cervix with every push. He leaned on his elbow by her head, his other hand held onto her thigh securing it around his hip. Her hands found their way into his hair, tugging on the locks as she brought his mouth to hers. 

It was goodbye sex, and probably the best they ever had. Rooster was going away on detachment for a couple weeks and Dragon was not looking forward to it. It was their first deployment since tying the knot, and they always said that the first one post-marriage is the hardest. She had never cried when they got separated because of orders, but she did tear up this time when he told her. 

“Not gonna last,” Rooster grunted, leaving hot opened mouth kisses on her collarbone. Dragon tilted her head back, giving him more access to her neck. His hand trailed in between their connected bodies, down to her clit, drawing smooth circles on the bundle of nerves. 

“Shit! Rooster!” Dragon cried, feeling tears in her eyes, “Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum.” 

“Cum for me baby,” Rooster said and placed his lips on hers, swallowing in moans that left her mouth. She pulled on his hair as her legs shook and her walls clenched around his dick. Her toes curled and her eyes rolled back as pleasure washed over her like a wave. Bradley sped his hips up, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he chased his release. His grunts got louder as hot cum filled her cunt. He was breathing fast and hard as he stilled his hips and wiped the sweat from his brow. 

“I think that was the best yet,” He said breathlessly. All Dragon could do was nod and run her hands through his sweaty hair, “Fucking hell, if that didn’t put a baby in you, I’m not sure what will.” 

Dragon nodded and Rooster kissed her shoulder, pulling out of her and laying down beside her. They had been trying for a little over three months to have a baby as naturally as they could. Dragon had been taking fertility medications to try and enhance her ovulation. Both of them had been tracking her cycle closely on their phones, taking every chance they could get to try and conceive. So far, they have been unsuccessful. 

“We’re about to enter the new moon cycle, I can feel my egg about to drop,” Dragon said and looked at Rooster. He didn’t understand a single thing about lunar phases or astrology but apparently that had something to do with fertility. All Rooster did was nod and pull Dragon into his bare chest. 

“Whatever you say, honey,” Rooster sighed, and closed his eyes, “Wait,” He reached behind him and grabbed a pillow. Dragon giggled and lifted her hips as he slid the pillow underneath her, “There we go,” He placed his warm hand on her stomach and gently patted the spot, “Soon. Soon we’ll have a little one of our own.” 

— — — 

Rooster was sure that she was going to pass out or get sick. He had never seen her like this before. He glanced over at Dragon, who was sniffling in his passenger seat as he drove to base. They had gotten into a small argument this morning, and usually Dragon would give Bradley the silent treatment and just brush it off. But this one had led to tears and her slamming the bathroom door and locking him out. He immediately called Phoenix, worried that something was seriously wrong with his wife, but then she sauntered out about twenty minutes later, dressed in her flight suit and ready to go to work. But the sniffles hadn’t stopped since they left the house. 

“Alright,” Bradley said, putting the bronco in park, “You gonna tell me what happened this morning?” 

“Nope,” Dragon said, popping the “p”. 

“Honey,” 

“No,” Dragon said, cutting him off, “Not talking about it.” She opened the door and jumped out of the bronco. She grabbed her duffle bag and headed for the hangar. 

Bradley huffed and took his keys out of the ignition, grabbed his stuff and followed her path. She was already seated at her desk, starting up her computer to check her emails and go over her flight plan for the day. Bradley clenched his jaw and sat at the desk across from her. This was so unlike her to bring a household argument into work. Something must really be wrong if she was this upset about the argument. 

To be truthful, Dragon wasn’t even sure why she was upset. She wasn’t sure if it was the tone that Bradley had used, or the fact that he was leaving in two days, or the fact that he had even started an argument to begin with. But now as she was staring at some email that Jake had shared, she couldn’t even remember what the argument was about. She felt that feeling of tears welling up in her throat again, as she tried to suppress the small sob that escaped her lips. Bradley lifted his head up from his laptop and looked at his wife confused. Dragon clenched her jaw as tears started falling down her cheeks again. Bradley looked even more alarmed as she stood up from her desk and stormed out of the office and brushed past Jake. 

“Whoa, where’s the damn fire?” Jake asked, and looked back at Rooster, “What did you do?” 

“Nothing!” Rooster said and Jake crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Rule number one about being married, is that you always did something wrong. So, what did you do?”

“Literally, nothing,” Rooster said, “I was making us coffee this morning and she came storming down like a bat outta hell and started an argument about me making coffee.” 

“Well, did you make it wrong?” 

“No, the argument was about me making coffee. She didn’t like that I made her coffee at all,” Rooster sat down in his chair with a huff, “This is like the fifth petty argument she has picked this week. Yesterday it was that I put the remote on my side, the day before it was that my boots were sitting on the opposite side of the entryway, and the day before it was that I got honey crisp apples instead of gala.” 

“Maybe it’s because of the deployment,” Jake said and sat down at his own desk which was across from Rooster’s. Rooster leaned back in his chair and turned to face him, “You said she got really upset about it. Maybe she thinks because you’re going and not her, it’s got something to do with promotion.” 

“That’s bull,” Rooster scoffed, “She’s higher on the board than me.” 

“But, you’re a dude, and she’s not. You get penis points.” 

Everything Jake was saying made sense. They all knew that they had an advantage over the women in their field simply because of their biology. It wasn’t fair and Rooster hated it, but there was little that he could do to change a whole history of sexism in the military. But he tried, he tried hard to make sure that his female coworkers got the same shot at everything as he did. 

“I say stay clear of her for the day and let her get her emotions out,” Jake said, “You know how she is. If you try to sit her down and make her talk to you, she’ll just hole up even more.” 

Rooster nodded, “She’s got a hop later with Payback and Fanboy, maybe that’ll help clear her mind.” Rooster sat up in his chair and turned back to his computer, not before glancing at the wedding picture of him and Dragon on the beach. She was thrown over his shoulder, her hair soaked from having been tossed in the ocean by him. Her white dress was sticking to her body but she didn’t care. She had a bright smile on her face as she held up her hand showing her diamond ring off for the camera. 

— — — 

Dragon felt like she could throw up, which she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. She wasn’t sure why she thought this was a good idea, but she would much rather figure this out at work, alone in the locker room than at home where Rooster could walk in at any minute. The pink stick she held in her hands answered all the questions that she had been asking herself in the past two weeks; why she was so emotional, why she couldn’t stand the scent of Bradley’s cologne, why her ring didn’t fit on her hand, and why her period had been three weeks late. She gulped and looked up from the pregnancy test in her hand. 

The timing couldn’t have been anymore awful. Bradley was leaving in two days and she didn’t want to tell him this before he went on a mission. News like this is what distracts pilots and leaves room for mistakes. Dragon couldn’t risk having Bradley make a mistake in the air that could cost him his life or another pilot's life. 

She also didn’t know if this was real or not. The last time she took a pregnancy test it came back positive, which turned out to be false. It was one of the hardest things she had ever had to hear as she sat in that exam room. She had spent a week thinking of baby names and nursery themes and how to tell Bradley he was going to be a dad, all for it to come crashing down in a matter of seconds. Bradley made her promise that if she thought she was pregnant again that she would tell him so he could be there with her. He hated that she went through that alone. He knew that she was a strong woman, but that didn’t mean that she had to face it all alone. 

Letting out a shaky breath, Dragon stood up from the bench she sat on and tucked the pregnancy test into the hygiene back in her locker. She wanted to take a second pregnancy test before she called her OB, worried that this could be another “cry wolf” scenario. Dragon fixed her hair and wiped the dried mascara from under her eyes before walking back to her shared office. 

Rooster and Jake were tossing a football back and forth as they talked about their upcoming mission. Rooster gave her a quick nod as she sat back down at her desk and went back to work. Jake looked between the two of them feeling the tension in the room. 

“So you have a hop this afternoon?” Jake asked her and Dragon shook her head, “Rooster said you did?” 

“No, I gave it to Phoenix, she wants more flight time for her boards,” Dragon said, not lifting her eyes from the email she was responding to. Bradley’s eyes filled with concern, and Dragon knew without looking at him, he could sense something was going on. 

— — — 

So far everyone was right about what they said; the first deployment post-wedding was the worst. Bradley was missing Dragon, something fierce, and spent every free moment he had emailing her. The detachment was only three weeks, but they both thought it was about three weeks too long. The two of them had kind of cleared things up before Bradley left. Dragon had apologized for picking fights and acting so weird, telling him it was a side effect of the fertility drugs. Bradley had apologized for not being the easiest to get along with and not paying more attention, which led to another round of tears for Dragon. 

Currently, Bradley was waiting to use the phone so he could call her. Going a week without hearing her voice was just too long, he decided. They knew there would be a time that they were deployed at different times, but they didn’t know it would happen this soon. Bradley prayed that neither one had a long deployment in their future, not sure how either would make it through. 

“Alright sweets, I gotta go, yeah, Bradshaw looks like he’s gonna tackle me if I don’t hang up. . . yes, of course I’m being nice to him, what are you talking about? I’m always nice to. . . okay that was different,” Jake rolled his eyes, and Bradley chuckled. Y/N Seresin was always on Bradley’s side when it came to things with Jake, “Yeah we’ll he’s not the one who makes you- sorry! Okay, but I need to go, I love you, kiss the kids for me. Bye, sweetheart.” 

Jake hung up the phone and sighed, turning in the chair to face Bradley, “That never gets easier. At least the kids were asleep. It’s worse when they get on.” He stood up from the chair and stretched his arms. 

“I don’t know how you do it,” Bradley shook his head and took Jake’s spot, “It’s bad enough I miss Dragon this much. I’d be trying to steal a plane if we had kids.” 

“Trust me, I would too if it weren’t illegal,” Jake said and clapped Bradley on the back, “Say hi to the missus for me.” 

“Will do,” Bradley said and dialed his wife’s number. 

On the other side of the ocean, Phoenix grimaced as she held her sister’s hair back while she threw up. Dragon had invited Phoenix over to help paint the home office. One whiff of the paint had Dragon running towards the nearest trash can and emptying her stomach. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Phoenix asked, and reached for a washcloth to give to her sister, “You got sick yesterday in the middle of a lecture. You threw up earlier tonight. You got food poisoning or something?” 

Dragon groaned, “Or something.” She leaned over to the counter drawer and pulled it open, rummaging around blindly until her hand found one of the many pregnancy tests she’d taken in the past week, “Here. Your answer.” 

Phoenix’s eyes widened as she looked at her sister, “This is for real?” 

“Yep,” Dragon said, leaning her head against the cool porcelain, “There’s an ultrasound in my bedside table.” 

“Dragon! Are you serious!? You’re pregnant!?” Phoenix smiled and Dragon lifted her head to look at her sister, and the former girl’s smile dropped, “What’s wrong?” 

“Don’t count your blessings yet. It’s still too early,” Dragon shook her head, “I’m only seven weeks, we’re not out of the woods yet.” Dragon pushed herself up from the floor and walked over to her sink. 

“You can still celebrate this,” Phoenix said following her sister, “I know it seems scary, but this is a good thing. This means that the fertility drugs worked. It means. . . you and Bradley are gonna be parents.” 

Dragon looked at her sister through the mirror and nodded. A smile slowly started tugging at the corner of her lips as the reality of everything started settling in. For the past three days, Dragon had kept quiet about everything. She didn’t want to talk about it, to tell people that she might be pregnant again, just for something to happen. She hated the looks that she got from Val and Y/N after her false pregnancy, and she spent days glaring and picking small fights with Jake. But this time was different, Dragon could feel it. She gently put a hand on her belly and rubbed the skin softly. 

“Yeah, I guess-” Dragon was cut off by the sound of her phone ringing. She snapped her head over to the device, seeing a picture of Bradley half asleep as the background, “Shit! I can’t talk to him!” 

“What do you mean?! He’s your husband!” Phoenix shouted. 

“Yeah, I know! That’s why! You answer it!” 

“Me?!” 

“Yes! Tell him I’m. . .” Dragon looked around the bathroom, her eyes landing on the shower, “Naked in the shower!” 

“You aren’t in- okay, now you’re naked,” Phoenix grabbed the phone as Dragon stripped down naked and ran towards the shower. Phoenix shut the bathroom door and sat down on the edge of Dragon’s bed, sliding the answer button over, “Hey, Bradshaw, Dragon is in the shower.” 

“Shit, really?” Bradley sighed, “Can you get her? I really want-” 

“She threw up all down the front of her,” Phoenix blurted, and slapped her palm on her forehead. 

“Oh my god. I-is she okay? Is she sick?” 

“Mhm, just fine,” Phoenix nodded as she heard music starting to float out from the bathroom, “It was gross. We were having brunch with Y/N, Val and Bea, and Dragon said she didn’t feel great. Guess she thought she could make it to the bathroom, but she threw up all over her lap. Been sick ever since we got home. Finally stopped and felt like she could shower.” 

Bradley nodded on the other line and sighed, “Alright, well, tell her I hope she feels better and to check her email. I miss talking to her.” 

“I know you do, Bradshaw,” Phoenix said and smiled at the wedding picture that was sitting on their bedside table, “I’ll tell her you called and make sure she emails you back.” 

“Thanks Trace,” Bradley smiled. 

They both said their goodbyes and Phoenix walked back into the bathroom. She frowned seeing the shower still running and her sister kneeling down in front of the toilet, getting sick again. Dragon lifted her head and gave Phoenix a shy smile before gagging. 

— — — 

For the next week or so, Dragon’s morning routine had become; wake up, throw up, shower, brush her teeth and throw up again. The word on the street was still kept on the downlow, the only other person who knew about the pregnancy was Maverick, and the command team. She was grounded for the time being, taking over the classroom portion of the class while her colleagues took over the air training. 

But today, her focus hadn’t been on not trying to throw up in front of her students. She was focused on the fact that Bradley was coming home today. They hadn’t talked on the phone since he left. He only had one phone call opportunity and Dragon had missed it. She felt horrible, and apologized in every email that she had sent him. Rooster didn’t blame her, more worried about how sick she had been according to Bob’s emails. According to the WSO, Dragon was barely functional, her energy was low and she could hardly keep herself awake in briefings. Rooster knew her so well that she probably wouldn’t go to the doctor and would keep suffering until it was over. 

As soon as it hit three in the afternoon, Dragon was making a beeline right for the parking lot. She was still in her flight suit as she threw her bag into the backseat of the Bronco and drove to the other side of base, where the carrier would be docking. The parking lot was full as spouses, partners and children were milling around waiting for their loved ones to be back in their arms. Rooster was finishing up packing his room, making sure his bed was perfectly made and that his summer whites were crisp and clean. He checked his watch, seeing that he only had 10 minutes before he was supposed to be on the flight deck. 

The sight of watching a carrier come into dock was one that not many people got to watch. A smile rose on Dragon’s face as she saw the sides of the flight deck flanked with officers in their blues and summer whites. She couldn’t help but place her hand on her non-existent stomach as she watched a young mother point out the officers to her son. Soon that would be her or Bradley pointing out the officers on the flight deck and saying: “can you see them? Which one do you think they are?” 

Dragon could hardly contain her excitement as she watched Bradley walk down the ramp from the carrier. She ignored all the rules and regulations she had learned over the years and took off running towards him. Bradley was smiling so wide his cheeks hurt as he dropped his duffel back and caught her in his arms. He spun her in a circle, enticing a giggle from her lips. Bradley set her on the ground, his arms still around her waist as her hands went to his face. 

“I missed-” 

“I’m pregnant,” Dragon blurted out and Rooster’s eyes widened in surprise. 

“Wait. . . you mean it? You’re actually. . .?” 

Dragon tearfully nodded and Rooster pulled her in for a tight hug, burying his face in her neck. She held him tightly as tears seeped down her cheeks and she could feel Bradley’s tears hitting her skin. He pulled away and looked at her, her hands once again going to his face, and wiping away a tear with her thumb. He pressed his forehead against hers, his hands resting on her hips and looking down at her flat tummy. 

“Oh my god,” He chuckled, “I’m gonna be a dad.” 

“You’re gonna be a dad, Bradley,” He tilted her chin up and pressed a deep kiss to her lips. 

That whole night, Bradley laid in Dragon’s lap, talking to her barely there belly and placing kisses on the skin. Dragon smiled and ran her fingers through his hair until the two of them eventually drifted off to sleep. 

— — — 

The two of them had been living in perfect bliss for six days. Dragon had another appointment with her doctor, and Rooster had accompanied her. He cried when he saw the ultrasound for the first time. The small little black and white blob already had his heart and he could hardly explain it. They also told their closest friends; Jake & Y/N, Val & Coyote, and Bob. Phoenix already knew and rubbed it in their faces. Everyone was placing their early bets on what the gender of the newest dagger squad was going to be. Dragon and Rooster didn’t care, as long as their baby was healthy. The two of them had been too wrapped up in one another to even notice the small argument between Phoenix and Jake on who was going to be the better godparent. 

But that bliss had all come crashing down on the seventh day of Rooster being home. Dragon had felt off all day. She had a migraine from hell. It felt like a jackhammer was in between her eyes. Her back also hurt. It felt like she had been carrying around a ninety pound rucksack for three days. Rooster got her the heating pad and rubbed her back, trying to relieve some of the pain. Dragon wrote all of it off as pregnancy symptoms, nothing out of the ordinary. She was still very nauseated and had gotten sick that morning. 

The pain hit tenfold in the middle of the night. Dragon had woken up in near tears, her lower back aching. She rolled over and reached for her lamp, but stopped, feeling something sticky in between her thighs. She could smell the scent of copper, and knew what it was. Dragon let out a shaky breath as she stood up from the bed, not bothering to turn the lamp on. She placed a hand on her belly and quietly made her way to the bathroom. She shut the door first and then flicked the lights on. 

She felt like she was going to be sick. Her thighs were coated in blood and the gray boxers she had stolen from Rooster were also stained with the dark crimson. A sob escaped her lips as she pressed a hand to her belly, and placed her other hand on the counter to hold her up. She tried her hardest to keep her cries quiet, not wanting to wake her husband up. Dragon wiped away the tears with the back of her hand and looked at herself in the mirror. She clenched her jaw and forced herself to look away from the blood. 

‘If your thighs are covered, so is the bed’ Dragon grimaced, and turned to face the door. She opened it quietly, seeing Bradley still asleep, his bareback to her. She could also see the spot of blood on the sheets. The only thing running through her mind was taking care of the dirty sheets before Bradley could wake up. 

‘This isn’t something a man has to deal with’, she thought. Quickly, she moved back towards her side of the bed, and tossed the pillows on the ground and grabbed the corner of the sheet, pulling it from the mattress. As quietly as she could, she tried to get the sheets off without waking Bradley. She was suddenly grateful that he could sleep through the end of the world. 

“Rooster,” Dragon whispered, trying to tug off the bed sheets, “You need to move,”

“Mm?” Rooster mumbled and rolled over onto his back, “Whatcha doin? Come back to bed,” He reached out and grabbed Dragon’s wrist trying to pull her back to bed, but she pulled away from him. 

“I need to… just move please for a second, let me get this off,” Dragon said and tugged at the sheets again. Rooster pushed himself up on his elbows blinking a couple of times from the light filtering in from the bathroom. 

“Honey, what are you doing… hey, stop,” He said as she grabbed his arm to move him so she could pull the rest of the blankets off. He flicked on the light quickly, and could see the remnants of blood on her hands and shirt. He looked over at the blood spot that had stained the sheets. He quickly stood up from the bed and held his arms out to touch her, “Honey-” 

“No.” Dragon said sternly, “This is my mess, okay. You aren’t supposed to deal with this, so just let me-” 

“It’s okay, I can help-” Bradley held his hands out to take the dirty sheets from her hands, but she shook her head.

“No!” Dragon yelled and pushed his hands away and tried to grab the sheets again.

Bradley’s heart was beating in his ears as he watched her yank the rest of the sheets off the bed. She let out a gasp at the blood stain soaked through the mattress. He watched her chest start to rise and fall quickly, as she moved to walk around to the other side, but Bradley blocked her way. She pushed him, but he wrapped his arms around her. 

Dragon fought against his chest, “Let me go! I need to get this clean! Bradley! I need to-” 

“It’s okay, it can wait,” Bradley said and held her tightly, “We need to take care of you first.” 

Dragon let out a loud sob and collapsed in his chest. Bradley did his best to keep her from crashing to the ground, but when her legs gave out, he carefully pulled her down. Tears filled his own eyes as he held her, rubbing soothing circles on her back. When her sobs slowly turned to sniffles, Bradley placed a kiss on the top of her head. 

“Are you in pain?” He asked quietly, clearing his voice when it cracked. 

“My back hurts so bad,” Dragon’s voice wavered.

“We need. . . we probably need to go to the hospital,” Bradley said, and sobs left Dragon’s mouth again, “I know, I know,” Bradley held her close again, pressing his lips to the crown of her head again, “But we need to. . . for your health, okay.” 

Dragon nodded, “C-can I clean up first?” She looked at her shaking hands which had dried blood on them. 

“Yes, honey, of course,” Bradley said, and wiped a tear away, “A bath or a shower?

“A bath,”

“I’ll go get it started, okay,” Bradley said. He stood up softly, “Do you think you can walk?” Dragon nodded her head and Bradley helped her stand up, one arm around her waist. 

She was wobbly on her feet at first, and held onto Bradley’s waist tightly, as he guided her into the bathroom. In the light he could see more of the blood that was between her thighs, on her sleep shorts, under her fingernails. Bradley sat her down on the closed toilet seat and helped her take her clothes off. He pressed a soft kiss to both of her cheeks, kissing the tears away. Dragon closed her eyes and grabbed his hands, holding them in her own. She squeezed them and brought them up to her lips, kissing his knuckles. 

“I’m sorry-” 

“Don’t apologize,” Bradley shook his head, “Do not. . . apologize, okay? This is not your fault.”

All she could do was nod and Bradley held the back of her head as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. He started the bath and ran the water until it was warm enough for her, and added some drops of lavender. Before getting in, he helped her stand up and took a washcloth, gently cleaning her legs of blood. He bit back tears as she held onto his shoulders for strength. When Dragon was all clean, he took her hands and helped her into the bath. 

“I’m going to get you some clothes and a bag for the hospital,” Bradley said and Dragon nodded, hugging her knees as she sat in the warm water, “I’ll be right back.” 

Bradley moved quickly, not wanting to leave her alone for very long. He pulled out a clean pair of his sweatpants and one of his sweatshirts. He grabbed her several clean pairs of underwear. He packed a bag in case they had to stay overnight. In all the parenting books and blogs he had read in the past seven days, none of them told him how to prepare for this. Bradley set the bag by the bedroom door and then turned back to face the bed. 

He held his fist to his mouth as his lip trembled. Bradley buried his face in his hands as he cried. He had tried hard to not let Dragon see him cry, knowing that she needed someone to be her rock right now. She was always the tough one, holding Bradley while he cried or when he woke up with nightmares, now it was his turn to return the favor. But seeing the bloodstain on the mattress, he couldn’t hold back his emotions. 

He allowed himself to cry for a moment, before wiping the tears away and going back to cleaning. He ripped the sheets off the bed, and pulled the duvet over the mattress, covering the bloodstain on it. He made a mental note to look up how to remove the blood, but in the back of his mind he wondered if he should just bite the bullet and get a new one. Bradley took the sheets to the kitchen, and grabbed a garbage bag, throwing the soiled sheets in there. He set the bag in the garage next to the trash cans to take out on garbage day. 

Once he was done tidying everything up the best he could, he went back to the bathroom, seeing Dragon leaning her head against the lip of the tub. She looked drained. Her color was gone, there were deep bags under her eyes, her eyes and nose were still red from crying.

Bradley grabbed one of the fluffy towels from the linen closet, and helped her out of the tub. She didn’t say anything as he dried off her skin, and then rubbed lotion on her body. He helped her get dressed and then grabbed the bag and carried her down to the bronco. 

Dragon leaned her head against the backrest of the seat, watching the lights of the city pass as they quietly drove to the hospital. She reached across the console and held her hand out. Bradley took it without a second thought. They were going to get through this, together.

author's note: this is probably my most vulnerable fic I have ever written. This fic is based off of my own experience with going through a miscarriage and it was very hard and emotionally draining to write about the worst time of my life. But, if you or someone you know has gone through this, I want you to know that you are not alone <3. Miscarriages suck, they are horrible and I wish that they were never ever a thing, but they are never your fault.

[tw1l1te]

The Final Promise₊˚✩⊹

Chapter 1

Linked Universe x reader

Warnings: Tension, not much else, maybe some angst??

Ordon Village on the cusp of winter was truly a sight to behold. The trees bare and the ground covered in frost in the early morning, fog rolling in from the surrounding forest. You could hear the birds chirping in the first hours of the day, being a nice, calming alarm clock for you, a nice change to your phone’s blaring alarm.

Stretching your arms out, you yawn. Today was pretty important, as you have a meeting with Rusl and the chain with what your next steps will be. You weren’t exactly looking forward to it, not wanting to end this domestic little vacation you got to have, but it was necessary. Nothing stays peaceful in Hyrule. 

Before you had the chance to rub the sleep out of your eyes, you could hear Wind banging on your door.

“Wakey-wakey sleepyhead! Wild made breakfast!” and before you had the chance to respond, much less actually get out of bed, Wind barges in and grabs your hand, pulling you along. You somehow managed to grab your old hoodie on the way out, not wanting to freeze outside of the warm blankets Twilight gave you. Ironically enough, it was the zelda hoodie that your best friend got you, one of those hoodies that were meant to look like Link’s hat as the hood. The group teased you a lot about it.

You were listening to Wind’s rambling as you were being dragged into Twilight’s kitchen, already hearing quiet talking amongst the boys. The kitchen smelled amazing. 

“Oh my god Wild what did you make, it smells SO fucking good.” you awed.

He rolled his eyes in amusement, “Just some toast with eggs over rice. I also tried making a new sauce to put over the eggs, so let me know what you think,” he said, sliding a plate of food towards you.

You took a bite and moaned, “Wild it’s official, you’re my favorite.” you mumbled, mouth full of food.

You hear a couple ‘hey’s!’ in the background, but you ignore them, just smiling at Wild who scratches his head in embarrassment, but gives you a smile in return.

You finish off your breakfast quickly, washing it down with a mug of warm honey milk, Sky’s homemade beverage that you’ve come to enjoy a lot. With a dash of some sweetened spice, it's the perfect drink to warm you up.

~

With all of your stomach’s full and satiated, you make your way to Rusl’s cottage towards the edge of Ordon Village. The cottage is quaint, decorated with small lanterns to commemorate the coming winter holidays. Rusl is carving a piece of wood on his porch and waves at your lot once you come closer, ushering you inside. The inside was cozy, a fire crackling in the fireplace warming the living room, a warm soup being heated on the stove and some fresh bread in the oven. 

You all sit down at his dining table, all curious and/or worried on what your next steps will be and whether or not there has been any news on the Shadow’s movements.

“I’m sure you all are anxious to hear about the Shadow’s activity, but there was something more important I needed to bring up first.” Rusl said, making eye contact with each of you, but his eyes stopped at you.

Time nodded at him, encouraging him to continue.

“We all know that our guide here isn’t from this Hyrule, much less any of yours. That being said, Ashei had sent me a letter a few days ago sending the typical update that she does every couple months, but this letter was… different, so to speak. Among the resistance and the Hylian research team there has been a discovery, or rather, a rediscovery.” Rusl paused.

The air was thick, tense with anxiety and stress.

“What is it Rusl? Is someone in trouble?” Twilight asks, putting a hand on his shoulder for reassurance.

Rusl shakes his head.

“No. For now at least.”

He takes a breath.

“They seem to have found another mirror. A twilight mirror possibly, not clear. But that’s not the part I brought you here for.”

Rusl then fixes his eyes right onto you, causing the rest of the group to turn their gaze onto you, one by one.

“They think it can bring you home, Y/n.”

₊˚✩⊹

[spark-my-nature]

Can’t Hold Back - DRW

A smutty little blurb that plagued me until I wrote it.

(Tango friends - expect Chapter 6 soon 💕)

Warnings: 18+ NSFW, explicit sexual content!

“You brought this upon yourself, sweetheart,” you soothed, condescending and buttery smooth. Danny’s hot breath warmed your chest as he let out a lungful of air, his rippling and tensing beneath you as you secured the leather cuff to his wrist.

Muffled, between your tits as you coincidentally (not) smothered him, he groaned out softly, “I’m sorry…”

Smiling to yourself, you began straightening up, running your hand down his extended arms, soothing his taught muscles lovingly as you came to a kneeling position beside his chest. “Comfy?”

He gives you a soft, mhmm, circling his wrists tentatively in the restraints, tilting his face up to glance at them, binding him to the headboard.

You brought a hand to his strong chin, brushing your thumb delicately over his bottom lip as he fluttered those big hazel eyes up at you.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, adoration tightening in your throat for your boyfriend. “Beautiful,” you breathed, your hand slowly slipping upwards and cupping his cheek, feeling the skin warm further than it already was beneath your fingers at the words.

“You’re perfect, Danny,” you told him, letting your gaze follow your fingers as you left his cheek, trailing the backs of your knuckles down his neck, over his chest, down the centre of his abdomen. “If only you could just lay still for me.”

His breath stuttered, clenching his thighs the lower you brought your touch, but you grinned, biting your lip, and lifted your hand away just before his aching cock had a chance to brush against you. Danny sighed and shut his eyes, his brows furrowing in disappointed frustration.

Quietly, as you pet his thigh, thumbing over the toned muscles, you asked, “Why can’t you behave, sweet boy? I wanted to make you feel so nice.”

He swallowed roughly, eyes not quite meeting yours. “Just… want you too much, I can’t… I can’t help it,” he murmurs, watching your hand closely as it trails in circles between his thighs. “Honey, please…?”

You glance up at him, and he hesitantly meets your gaze, licking his lips in anticipation.

A gentle smile taking over your face deceives him, and you nearly feel bad for him as you mercifully take his pulsing length in your hand, knowing it won’t stay there for long.

He lets out a choked sigh, his head already falling back against the pillows, “Nnghh- fuck…”

You bring your gentle grip from his base to his swollen head, mesmerized by the delicious pull of the silky soft skin in your fist. Every slight bulge of the veins that decorate his perfect cock, they slip up and down, slowly gaining speed as Danny’s rough breathing eggs you on.

He flexes his ass, lifting his hips into your not-quite-tight-enough grip and sending himself through your fist fast and hard, but only once before you release him entirely.

Danny lets out a soft cry, so pathetic and breathy it makes your clit twitch and ache. “…damn it,” he smiles weakly, playfully, glancing at you.

Smirking back, you give his thigh a squeeze, flicking your eyebrows at him. “Not done playing with you yet,” you tease.

His eyelids droop even heavier with lust, “Oh yeah?”

You bit your lip, shaking your head slowly, and you rise on your knees, shuffling backwards until you can swing a leg over his, straddling him and leaning down, eye-to-cock.

“No,” you softly confirm, “My favourite little plaything.”

Danny tries to swallow it down, but you still catch the quiet, high-pitched whine that catches in his throat. “Baby please,” he tries, targeting your soft side with his sweet, sugary plea. “Touch me, I want- please, make me feel good, sweetheart, please? I need you,” he finishes practically on a whimper.

You listen with a loving smile, running your hands up and down his thighs, higher and higher. Cocking your head curiously, you dip your thumbs inward, brushing against his balls. “That bad, huh?”

He nods quickly, tensing at the featherlight touch, eyes laser focused on your movements.

“Sweet, beautiful boy,” you murmur, bending down to place a gentle, open-mouthed kiss to the underside of his head. Danny’s lips part with a sharp inhale, face twisting in arousal.

You flutter your eyelashes open to peer at him over the smooth planes of his body, his chest shining with sweat. Your mouth ached for him, unable to deny yourself of his perfect thick length any longer.

You flattened your tongue and licked from the seam of his balls, up slowly until you rounded his head. Sucking his tip between your lips, you hummed quietly in response to his guttural moan, teasing your tongue against his delicate frenulum within your mouth.

“Yesss… yes, yes, yes, god…!” He slurred his words, stomach muscles rippling with his self-restraint.

Rattling above you made you smirk around his girth, reminded of the helpless, vulnerable position he’d so willingly allowed you to put him in.

Releasing him from your lips, you squeezed his thighs at either side of your head as you muttered, hot and damp against him, “You’re so fuckin’ hot, Danny.”

Danny clenched his hands into fists above his head, tugging again at the chains as he panted, stealing your heart with a breathless, “Baby…”

Lapping slow and teasing all over his shaft, you sprinkled in occasional kisses and quick flicks of your tongue at his head.

His body began twitching and twisting more and more frequently beneath you, until soon he sighed out, “God, please, suck me? Please please please?”

You moaned softly, the sound beyond your control. Figuring he’d been very patient with all of this, you gave in, picking up his heavy base and sinking your lips down around his substantial cock, glancing up at his face as you suctioned around him.

You were graced with the sight of his blown out pupils rolling back into his head, his mouth falling open pornographically as he choked on his own breath.

Half a second later, he groaned, long and low, arching slightly off the bed, hips pinned in place by your free hand gripping his upper thigh. “Fuuuuck, ohhh, shit,” his breathy muttered curses sounding mindless and involuntary. His brows lifted as they furrowed, losing himself in the pleasure.

You moaned softly around him, intentionally vibrating around him and letting him linger near the back of your throat for a moment.

Danny choked out a sharp whine, twitching in your mouth. “Ohgodplease-!”

Smirking evilly, you pulled off him entirely, letting him bob and twitch in the air, glistening with your spit as he whined and tossed his head back, fingers flexing over his head.

“…I hate you,” he deadpanned hoarsely, sounding completely infatuated nonetheless.

You giggled softly, crawling up his body slowly. He opened his eyes, watching you with curious, adoring desperation. Once level with him, you dropped down on your side, settling on your elbow. You leaned in, meeting him halfway in a needy, rushed kiss. Your hand came up to cradle his jaw, enjoying the muscles in his sharp angled jawline and cheek pushing and flexing as he sought kiss after kiss from you like a dying man.

You turned your face, parting from his searching mouth to glance down his body. Unwilling to be interrupted, he latched onto your neck, sucking and licking his toe-curling kisses up and down the vulnerable skin. You whimpered softly, grazing your hand down his front once again, this time taking him in hand and beginning a steady, firm pump of your hand.

His teeth released your skin from the hickey he’d begun sucking into you, mouth agape as a groan of relief flew from his chest, his breath adding to the humidity in the air between your bodies. His hips began bucking and thrusting into your hand, helplessly chasing his rapidly approaching orgasm.

“Don’t, fuckin’, stop,” he begged, eyes struggling to stay open, if only to implore with you to have mercy.

You captured his lips, clumsy but hot kisses keeping his mouth busy as you drank in his moans.

Then, with a few even faster, tighter pumps of your hand, you let go again, freeing his pulsing erection to bob in the air once more, seeking your touch.

You felt as well as heard his pathetic half-sob of a whine against your smirking lips.

“Am I just so mean to you, baby boy?” you cooed, brushing featherlight kisses over his lips.

He swallowed hard, eyes hooded and dark, and he shot a quick glance up to the cuffs.

As his eyes met yours, you gave him a sweet, deep but brief kiss, then rose up, and to his surprise and confusion, unlatched his cuffs.

He brought his wrists down, rubbing at them as he watched you curiously, but in no state of mind to examine your reasoning.

You resettled by his side, this time cuddling into the arm he wrapped around your shoulders. Turning his face to you, he happily accepted your kiss, and seconds later you felt his fingertips brushing your hair back, cupping your cheek.

“Just missed your touch,” you explained, mumbling against his mouth.

He gave a faint nod, smiling half-lucid in response. “So sweet.”

His whole body jumped a little, then melted, as you flattened your palm over his cock, and you moaned softly at the intense twitch it gave at the stimulation. Rubbing the underside of him, massaging it against the flat expanse of his abs, Danny hissed, holding eye-contact with you, even as his eyes glazed over.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” you whispered, palming him a little faster. Danny’s jaw hung open, wincing in pleasure as your words spurred him on closer to his peak.

His free arm lowered to his groin, and you felt the sweaty warmth of Danny’s palm covering the back of your hand, urging your fingers closed around him, pressing harder against his cock.

“Aht,” you scolded, and Danny shot his hand away obediently, gripping the sheets at his side instead. “Sor- mmm- sorry,” he strained roughly, “please don’t stop, I won’t- I’ll be good, I won’t touch again, baby, please let me?”

Biting back a grin, your eyes darted back and forth between his, excitement growing between you alongside Danny’s imminent orgasm. “You gonna cum?” you breathed, raising your brows.

With a shallow, quick nod, Danny whimpered and licked his lips, thrusting against your flat-handed rub, humping your palm. “S-so close, I- oh god, fuck, I ca- I-“

His eyes fluttered shut, and he let out a long whimper, hissing your name at the end, practically vibrating with the thrumming electricity of pleasure.

And like the absolutely evil girlfriend you are, you removed your hand.

Danny cried out, “Nooo- I, it, I- s’ t-t- toolate- Ohh, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuckfuckfuck, shit-!”

He bucked and thrusted against nothing, thighs quaking as he practically doubled over, flexing and thrashing against the sheets. His hands quivered, itching to tend to his needy, twitching cock as it independently disobeyed both your will and his.

And to your astonishment, and unmatched arousal, Danny’s stomach was painted seconds later with rope after rope of his cum, Danny hissing and whining through the whole thing as he obediently kept his hands away from his cock. The sight of him, painfully antsy and grabby as his orgasm washed over him, completely hands free, had you absolutely choked with arousal.

As it slowly faded, you dove in, kissing and sucking his neck desperately, whimpering against his skin, “Fuck, that was so hot, Danny…”

He panted, and you felt him flex slightly, glancing down at himself in disbelief. “…I… mmm,” he swallowed.

Pulling your face from his neck, your eyes darted all over his face, cradling his face in your palm. You turned your face to his lap, licking your lips as your brow knit in your uncomfortably hot arousal. He was still so perfectly, achingly hard, leaking at the tip and flushed red with his unsatisfying orgasm.

Looking back to your boyfriend, you breathlessly whispered, “Can I ride you?”

Danny’s face shifted first into incredulous disbelief, then to determined desperation. He grabbed your waist, rolling himself overtop of you in a quick, firm movement. He gave you a dirty, fucked out smirk at your little coo of surprise, hovering over you, glowing in the warm lighting and so gorgeous you could hardly stand it.

“Your little power trip is over, pretty girl,” he condescendingly goaded, leaning down to brush his lips against yours as he settled his body between your legs and gave a roll of his hips, sending his sensitive cock through your wet slit.

You gasped, arching into him, and he smirked deviously.

Well shit.

⭐️

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