#the tomato sauce was also so fucking good
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wings-of-angels · 1 year ago
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MADE A TOMATOE SAUCE FOE THE FIRST TIME TODAY WOOOOO
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curiosity-killed · 1 year ago
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The problem with having pizza places where you can DIY with no extra charges for extra veggies is that I just wind up making monstrosities with no care for how flavors work together
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faunabel · 2 years ago
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is it weird i don’t like pizza that much??
idk if i’ve just never had good pizza or what. it’s always the sauce that gets me. why is it so sweet? why is it so acidic? it’s gross and i am sad.
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outlying-hyppocrate · 2 years ago
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imagine being like. human. i'm just a silly little creature. happy cryptid. occasionally a very sad cryptid who ponders its own existence and questions his sanity but. that's mostly during the winter months. we do not speak of the winter months. except for the fact that we are in them and. fuck never mind. i just need some tea and a bit of will wood to ensure my serotonin levels go back to normal and i can be. happy cryptid
#random thoughts#i also do this when i have deprived myself of food for a certain amount of time. don't worry. i am making spaghetti#there will be sauce. with an obscene amount of garlic. i apologize to potential vampire boyfriends#my stomach hurts though so. maybe i'll eat later#but FUCK. i don't want it to be cold#hng. microwaved pasta is just Not As Good. yknow what i mean. it tastes much better fresh#perhaps i will simply eat it cold. i will put parmesan on it. then it will not melt. melted parmesan makes me cry because#i'm a pathetic piss baby who can't stand the texture. or maybe it's the autism diagnosis i don't know#do not mind me. i am simply discussing whether or not i should eat my spaghetti#wait. why did i say making? i haven't even made it yet. lmao#yknow what? no spaghetti for today. i'll just suffer i guess#admitting to pain irl in any way is embarrassing as fuck for some reason? like i felt like i was going to die in french class#the lights were so bright and everyone was so so loud but i couldn't wear my sunglasses in class. hng. and then of course#it stressed me the fuck out. and then. stomachache. at that point i was ready to cry#then my friend saw me and asked if i was okay. i just said yes. she believed me. i think#still suffering. not fun. not fun at all#WHY THE FUCK AM I SO OFF TOPIC. credence you need to stop. please just post this already#actually wait. i will post this. and then just make the sauce. i will put it in the refrigerator and eat it the next day#it is similar to tomato soup. except. cold. and obviously thicker. i don't know why it tastes good. hng#on my way to make the sauce. goodbye everyone
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nexus-nebulae · 1 month ago
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every time i find an allergen-free food i can eat i always end up craving it for like the next two weeks. first it was the lactaid milk and now it's sensitive recipe spaghetti sauce i love you sensitive recipe spaghetti sauce
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archivist-the-knight · 8 months ago
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good way to get veggies in is sandwiches because oh my god. whe nyou have a good veggie sandwich you have a good veggie sandwich.
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medicinemane · 9 months ago
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ellecdc · 4 months ago
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oh wooow…. I just found your chef!sirius and I think you unlocked a new favorite au for me! I’ve always been more of a james girlie but your sirius, especially your chef!sirius has me feeling all types of ways. do you have anything more for him and reader planned? I’d love to read more about them and their dynamic he’s been so sweet on her at a&e and the lip biting thing has made me think of plenty of unholy things they could do.
so excited to read more of them! or reread chef!sirius if you don’t plan on adding more. 🤍🤍🤍
I love them, your honour. Also, omg it's happening!!!!!!!!!!! thanks for your sweet words, babes <3
chef!Sirius x mixologist!reader who have their first date [2.5k words]
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7
CW: reader is anxious as fuck about the date, we actually don't talk about Jeffery even once in this so sorry to all our Jeffery Stans (or haters) out there xoxoxo
A date.
An actual date.
And if it went well; your first date.
God did you hope it went well.
You’d been rightfully wary about the prospect of dating a coworker but you had to admit it was growing increasingly difficult (and extremely tiresome) pretending you weren’t completely gone for the cantankerous chef who seemed to only soften for you. 
Thankfully it seemed he was just as gone for you, which at least meant it would only be slightly awkward if it didn’t go well and not see you dying from embarrassment. 
What you hadn’t been prepared for, however, was how difficult taking a noteworthy chef out for a dinner date would turn out to be. 
Every restaurant you had suggested (though Sirius had insisted he would go anywhere with you) was either owned by someone he knew and was in direct competition with, someone he knew and didn’t like, or someone he knew and felt their food was no good. 
So you had made - what you were sure was a brilliant idea at the time - the horrible suggestion of just having him over to your flat for dinner. 
Great.
Terrible. 
Because now you were responsible for preparing a meal for that same noteworthy chef who got paid to spend day after day shouting at his kitchen staff for their “sad excuses for artistic plating” and “terrible passes at edible food”. 
Stupid, stupid girl. 
You warily eyed the sauce you had set aside for your tomato basil pasta as you stirred the store bought pasta on the stove.
What were you thinking!? Two of the seven ingredients (not including the bloody pasta) was in the sodding title. 
You were going to simply throw up. 
But the sound of an assured knock on the door felt like a buzzer ringing loud and obnoxiously at the end of a game - you were officially out of time.
Or were you?
Could you cancel? Tell him you were feeling poorly?
The fact that he had showed up at your sodding house with various essentials a mere few weeks ago told you no, you couldn’t cancel.
You smoothed out your shirt with shaky hands as you moved towards your front door. 
You saw this man almost everyday; you worked with him, and when you weren’t working with him, you were often commuting home with him or finding some other excuse to be in each other’s company.
So why were you nervous?
You opened the door to expose him; standing tall in all his fair skin, tattooed, storm-cloud eyes, inky-black hair artfully tied back in a way that screamed “I hardly tried” that you could never accomplish no matter how hard you tried glory.
Oh right.
That’s why you were nervous. 
“Hey there.” He greeted you softly; eyes roving over your form in much the same way yours had just done as you clocked in on the bouquet of flowers hanging casually in his hand. 
You had to wipe your now clammy hands off on your shirt again. 
“Hey.” You said belatedly, earning you a smirk from your date. “Erm, sorry, come in.” You chuckled awkwardly as you moved out of his way and granted him access to your flat. 
“Smells great!” He offered earnestly, pausing to turn to you and gesture to the flowers. “Can you tell me where I can find a vase for these?”
“I can take those!” You began, reaching forward only to have him move them up and out of your reach with a smile on his face.
“Can you tell me where I can find a vase for these?” He repeated softly, taking the hand you had been reaching for the bouquet with in his and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.
Your brain worked overtime to keep your knees from buckling and directing him to the third cupboard from the left. 
He looked jarringly at home in your kitchen; shucking off his jacket and throwing it over the back of a stool before grabbing a vase from the appropriate cupboard and beginning a search through your drawers for a pair of scissors.
You had to remind yourself that he was a chef and it was his job to look at home in a kitchen; that was his domain.
You realised then that he had been speaking to you. 
“I’m so sorry, what was that?”
“I was only saying that I looked it up and made sure that these were safe for cats.” He said simply as he fluffed the bouquet in its new home and moved it to the centre of the counter with a satisfied smile. 
“You didn’t have to do that, Sirius.” You cooed somewhat embarrassingly. “I would have fought Birdie over them even if they weren’t.” 
Sirius let out one of his notorious barks of laughter (that half the staff insisted you were making up) that immediately left you feeling more at ease. 
“Well, no fighting required.” He said as he moved towards you, widening his stance so that he was closer to your height and wrapping his arms around your middle. “Thank you for having me.”
“Thank you for coming.” You smiled back; officially lost in the overwhelming beauty of this adonis who willingly accepted spending one of his precious evenings off with you. 
“I think your pasta might be done.” He whispered then, causing you to startle slightly and scramble from his grasp towards the stove.
“Anything I can do to help?” He asked as he followed you over.
“No!” You shouted at first, immediately embarrassed as you opted to pretend the heat of your face was a product of the steam from the pasta. “No, just, erm, go sit down.”
He backed out of your kitchen with a flirty smile on his lips as he accepted your direction.
Now you could understand why he was always yelling at people in his kitchen. 
You were astounded that you didn’t simply melt into goo under his steady gaze as you worked, but you were finally bringing the finished pasta to the table and sitting across from him.
“I apologise in advance; I’m not the cook you are.” You offered as you handed him the spoon to serve himself first. 
He gave you an odd look as he reached over and filled your plate first before his own. “No sorry needed, doll. When someone feeds me, I say thank you.”
You let out a breathy laugh as you picked up your fork. “Oh!” You nearly shouted, kneeing the table in your haste to stand causing you to have to catch a cup before it toppled. “Buggering fuck, sorry.” You apologised quickly, thanking every god known to mankind that you didn’t dump his plate or glass onto him. “Sorry, I forgot the asiago.” 
You opened the fridge and shoved your head into it feigning a search for the cheese when you really needed to cool down and take some steadying breaths.
You were fine, this was fine. 
Just fine.
Except that you had a stupid sexy tattooed chef sitting at your dining room table waiting for you to bring him the sodding asiago. 
You closed the fridge with a little too much force and heard some errant condiment tip over in the shelves behind you; you’d deal with that later. 
“This smells really good, doll.” He offered again, spreading the forsaken cheese over his pasta before loading a fork full and bringing it to his lips. 
You held your breath as you watched him chew; his brows furrowed before he nodded and let out an appreciative hum.
 “Very good; nicely done, gorgeous.” 
You smiled shyly at the praise and took your own bite.
It was good.
But surely it could be better? 
Should you have put more garlic in? The five cloves were already 3-4 more than the family recipe called for. And was there enough salt?
You definitely overcooked the pasta. 
The store bought pasta.
Fuck. 
“Hey.”
You looked up from your spiralling to see Sirius watching you cautiously. “What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing! Sorry.” You chuckled and began picking at your food. “Sorry, how was your day?”
He narrowed his eyes at you as he weighed whether or not he was going to let you brush past his question.
Apparently, you looking nervously down at his fork solidified his decision.
“That’s it.” He said as he put his fork down. “Come’ere.”
And before you could protest, he had one of the legs of your chair in his hand and was pulling you over to him. “What’s going on in that head of yours, hm?” He asked as he brushed a lock of your hair away from your eyes.
“Nothing?”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing.” You offered more confidently. 
Sirius hummed in faux consideration. “I call bullshit.”
You let out a defeated sigh and looked down at your hands in your lap. “I….I’m sorry, I- I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve made a mistake.”
Sirius was quiet for a few moments as you picked at your thumb nail and tried to ignore the stinging behind your eyes.
“Agreeing to spend tonight with me?” He asked softly then, causing you to look up so quickly that you heard your neck crack. 
“No! No! No, Sirius, not- not you, not this.” You assured him quickly, pulling one of his hands into both of yours. “I feel ridiculous.”
“‘Bout what?” He asked with reservation, though he considered your face with a look of concern clouding his own. 
“I can’t believe I tried cooking for you.” You bemoaned then, feeling that traitorous stinging behind your eyes turn into glossiness along your lash line. 
You watched in abject horror as Sirius’ face fell completely blank before he burst into laughter.
You were wrong, you were completely and utterly wrong; this really could end in you dying of humiliation. 
You were going to have to quit your job. You’d have to move back in with your parents. You’d have to change your number. You’d have-
“Doll, hey, hey wait!” Sirius managed to get out between hearty laughs as you tried pulling your hands away from him. “Wait! No no no, babe, listen.”
You let out a breath that sounded dangerously close to a sob and pointedly kept your gaze at your lap; perhaps not the greatest option because from this vantage point all you could see was your hands in his which left you aching with want. 
One of his hands disappeared as it moved to your chin when he forced you to look at him.
“Do you know what I would be eating at home if I was alone right now?” He asked you around an incredibly handsome cheeky smile. 
You shook your head once which resulted in one traitorous tear spilling from your lashes, stealing Sirius’ silver gaze from your eyes as his thumb moved to catch it. 
“Maybe packaged ramen?” He replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “Except I wouldn’t have cooked it.”
“What?” You choked out through a wet laugh.
“I wouldn’t have cooked it.” He repeated. “I would have crushed the noodles, opened the bag, sprinkled the seasoning on top of it and given it a shake and then would have eaten it from the bag.”
“That’s awful.”
“It is awful!” He agreed readily. “And do you know when the last time someone cooked for me was?”
You shook your head again. 
“Neither do I.” 
You both chuckled and he let his hand fall away from your chin where it joined your own again in your lap. 
“I cook all day long for everyone else and I usually can’t be arsed to cook for myself when the time comes. When I visit friends and family, they usually prefer having food prepared by a chef and I can’t bring myself to deny them because I love them and love cooking for them, so, this really is a treat. Not only did I not have to make it, it is also very good. I’ll be honest, I didn’t even know you could cook, so I was prepared to eat frozen pizza which still would have been an upgrade from my dry ramen.” 
You let out a breath in faux reluctance as you purveyed your set up. It did smell really good. 
“Did I completely botch this date?” You asked teasingly, though when you looked back at Sirius his gaze was as soft as butter left in the sun. 
“Absolutely not.” He whispered, leaning imperceptibly closer to you. “This is actually turning out better than I could have imagined.”
You hummed in acknowledgement as your eyes - without your consent - fell to his lips. “Yeah? Spend a lot of time imagining dates with me?”
“The majority of my time, actually.” He agreed easily, inching even closer to you. 
“And how do they usually end?”
Sirius shook his head no as his eyes moved to your own lips. “I don’t imagine that; I don’t imagine having to say goodbye.”
“No?”
“No.” 
“What do we do instead of saying goodbye, then?”
His eyes moved up to your own at that; neither of your daring to breathe as he searched your eyes for some kind of answer.
Well, you’d give him one.
Your answer came in the form of you closing the distance between you two and pressing your lips to his; he tasted a little bit like the mint gum you knew he chewed to avoid smelling like cigarettes, and he also tasted a bit like your pasta.
Your pasta, that you made for him. 
That he liked. 
And somewhere under all of that; somewhere under the mint and the tomato-basil-garlic, he tasted quite a bit like home. 
You weren’t sure who broke the kiss, but suddenly the two of you were connected by your foreheads as you took a heavy breath. 
“Usually that.” He answered breathlessly, earning him a laugh as you lowered your head only for him to pull it back up to press another kiss to your lips. “Can we eat this really good pasta that someone so graciously made for me now?” 
You laughed at him again and prepared to move your chair back to the other side of the table only for Sirius to reach over you and grab your plate so that you were sitting directly beside him instead. 
The two of you fell into your usual and comfortable repertoire then; his hand never leaving your knee under the table as the two of you talked about nothing and everything.
“Did you really not think I could cook?” You asked him  as you watched him clear off your table for you because “you cooked doll, it’s only fair.” 
You swore you noticed a slight dusting of pink on his cheek bones as he busied himself with loading your dishwasher. 
“Erm, no…actually. I never imagined goodbyes, and I never imagined you cooking.”
And though you wouldn’t find out until much, much later in your relationship; Sirius really didn’t think you could cook because the version of you in his head didn’t need to, that’s what he was for.
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just-jammin · 2 years ago
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Blake’s Wings and Steaks strikes again!!
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like holy fuck man
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freakyformula · 2 months ago
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First time with the Lion
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Summary: Reader is scared to lose her virginity but Max is the best boyfriend and helps her along the way.
Writers comment: The amount of hours I've put into this fucking fic...
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, swear words, oral (both receiving), loss of virginity, creampie, google translated dutch
Word count: 4,4k
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You stood outside Max's apartment, waiting for him to come home. You had forgotten your keys and he was rushing back from the gym to let you in. You told him that you'd go back to your apartment to get the keys but Max was having none of it. You and Max had been seeing each other for a year by now, and he had given you the keys to his home a couple of months into dating.
"I'm sorry for taking so long, I ran as fast as I could." He pants as he sees you when he steps out of the elevator.
"Max, it's been like 5 minutes, it's not like I'll die just because I have to wait for you." You mutter to him while you rub his arm.
He opens the door for you, kisses your forehead, and returns to the gym to complete his daily workout.
You lounge on the sofa for a bit before you feel your stomach grumbling. You walk to the kitchen and realise that the fridge is full of food, unusual for Max, considering he doesn't cook, you think.
It's already dusk and you've started preparing dinner for the two of you when he gets home.
As soon as Max sees you in the kitchen his lips form into a wide smile. He walks up to you and hugs you from behind.
"Hmmm, smells good. What are you making?"
"Penne alla vodka with chicken." You state, suspecting that Max didn't understand one word you just uttered. You smirk at him, "Pasta with tomato sauce, basically."
In response, he nods and continues to observe you while you work on the pasta.
"So… What do you want to do tonight, Y/N?" He suddenly asks.
"I was thinking we could stay in?"
"Sounds good to me…" He grabs your hips and presses himself against you, tickling your face and neck with light kisses. You can feel his hard-on through the fabric of your clothes.
While having supper, you make plans for the next racing weekend. You were not accustomed to the busy paddock, but Max was. Even though you had attended a few races and hidden in the grandstands with other fans, it was all new to you. It was important to maintain a low profile because you and Max had not yet gone public.
When you're done, and as you're finishing up the dishes, you feel his touch behind you again.
"Touchy today, are we?" You ask.
"Hmmmm…" He hums.
And with that, he easily lifts you up on his shoulder, carries you to the sofa, and lays you down with the utmost care.
He places himself between your legs as you part them for him, and he lets out a barely audible groan. He looks you deep in the eyes as he leans in to kiss you.
He begins stroking and kneading his way down your arms, chest, hips, and hands as soon as you start making out.
Max knows you're a virgin, you had told him when he took your makeout session too far once. Turns out he had already assumed you were because of the purity ring you were wearing.
Before you met Max, you'd been focusing on your studies, which meant little time for anything else. Your family was also extremely religious and anything considered sexual was forbidden before marriage.
While you and Max had done some stuff already, like seeing and touching each other while naked, you hadn't really gone further than that, the reason being your inexperience.
"Is this okay?" Max asks as he supports himself on his elbow, admiring your beauty only a few centimeters away from you. You could feel his breath on you, and he was panting heavily.
You spend the rest of the evening cuddling on the sofa, later moving to the bed to finish an episode of your favorite series.
In the days after, Max couldn't keep his hands off you. After that night, you waited for the opportunity to ask him about his intentions. It seemed as though the nature of the relationship had changed. Max had planned a romantic dinner at one of Monaco's top restaurants, followed by a stroll around the harbour to watch the sunset.
You sat on the balcony of the restaurant and enjoyed the food and each other.
You were wearing a floral midi dress and he was rocking a pair of beige shorts and a blue button-up.
When you considered yourself done, you slowly started walking towards the harbour.
The evening was beautiful, with the sky shining in all sorts of different colours.
You inhaled deeply and gathered your thoughts. The nerves were almost getting to you. Max flung his arms over you to try and warm you up, so he must have noticed how much you were shaking.
"Max… I need to ask you something." You begin, "About last week, did something happen that night when we cuddled? You've been acting strange ever since."
He turns to look at you and takes a deep sigh. You can see his face frown, seemingly deep in thought.
"Y/N, you know I love you. All I want is to treat you well and avoid causing you harm. But lately, you've turned me on so badly, and I'm afraid that expressing how much I need you would just harm you. He glances up at you, relieved to have voiced what was on his mind.
"Oh, Max…" You lean in, give his lips a peck, and rest your head on his arm, happy with the fact that he'd confessed his feelings.
"I don't want to rush, it's not like that at all. But I can't keep pretending like I'm not turned on by you." Max admits.
You look up at him and smile, "That makes two of us."
The look he gives you is so hilarious, it makes you giggle.
"D-do you mean that…?" He asks with big eyes.
"Yes… I have a suggestion, why don't we go back to your place and you can show me just how turned on you are?"
The whole walk home, Max holds your hand tightly, almost as if he's afraid of losing you on the way. As soon as he closes the door behind you, his lips are on yours. Max stumbles out of his shorts and you unbutton his shirt, and he helps you with your dress.
When it touches the ground and you're standing in only underwear before him, you cross your arms, afraid and uncomfortable. Max softly grabs your hands and softly bends your arms open, letting him see you fully.
"You're exquisite, Y/N. Never claim otherwise. Can I touch you?" He carefully asks.
You nod and he starts by sliding his hands up your arms, to your collarbones, and down to your chest. You let out a small whimper when you feel him move down to your hips.
The sounds of your family telling you about waiting for marriage and the importance of abstinence rang in your ears and you panicked. You back off and leave Max confused. He quickly makes his way up to you and holds your face.
The same thing had happened before; you desperately wanted to take the next step with Max, confident that he was your soulmate, but your conscience would not let you.
"It's okay, Y/N. We don't have to go further than this." He says, hoping to cheer you up.
"But… I want to. I want you."
"Then what's stopping you? I'm here."
And it's as if all the morals you've ever stored in your body melted away.
You felt ready, even if it would take time to get used to this. Anything sexual being sinful was all you knew of growing up.
You lean in and kiss his lips softly, daring to touch his shoulders. As the kiss deepens, you move your hands to his chest, and down to his stomach. You feel him mimicking your movements, giving you control that way. Without breaking the kiss, he starts to steer you towards the bedroom.
Once you reach the second-story staircase, Max picks you up into his strong arms, causing you to yelp. Max lays you down on the bed with care and follows, placing himself on top.
"How far are you ready to go, Y/N?" He asks.
"I don't know yet, but I'm okay so far. Just keep going."
"Can I take these off?" He asks, gazing down at the bra and panties.
You nod.
"First off, words. You need to use words for this to work, it's for our safety and well-being." He explains.
"Okay… y-yes." You stutter.
"Good girl." He smiles at you and starts placing kisses on your naked skin, that nickname making you absolutely feral.
He starts peppering kisses on your mouth and works his way down to your neck, and further to your covered breasts. He unbuckles your bra and helps you with the straps. The hunger in his eyes when he sees your bare chest is something you've never felt before. He dives down and begins sucking on the sensitive peaks.
Where his mouth isn't, his hands are, caressing you. You let out a moan and Max follows your lead. He lets out a moan and looks at your lust-filled eyes. He takes it as a sign to continue further down. When he grabs your panties and slides them down, you clench your legs together in order to avoid exposing yourself. Max, of course, doesn't accept that and opens them up again. He gasps at the sight, and bends down, placing kisses along your inner thighs.
"Can I touch you here?" He checks in.
"Yes, please."
"Good girl." He chuckles and leans into your heat. He dives in and starts licking, sucking, and teasing your entrance. He soon adds his hands to the mix, with his fingers flicking your clit while his tongue works the rest of your pussy. You feel your orgasm building up quickly, you're feeling ecstatic but your parents lecturing is pestering your mind and you can't help but whimper and move back from his care.
"I-I'm scared." You admit, on the brink of tears.
Max tuts, lies down next to you and holds you while you calm down again.
"I know this is a big step for you, Y/N, but you're doing so well, and we won't go any further than you're ready to."
He rubs your shoulder languidly until you let him know that you're ready again. He goes down again, but this time, he only uses his fingers.
"Does this feel good, mijn schat?" He checks in.
"Oh shit, don't stop." You force out, bucking your hips and lifting your legs over his shoulders.
He works your clit like a pro, and you feel an unfamiliar knot in your stomach.
What is happening? You thought. Before you know it, the knot snaps, and you scream out the first orgasm of your life.
You pant heavily and look at Max, who smirks down at you, clearly pleased with his work.
"So that's what it feels like…" you say.
"Are you okay?" He asks.
"Honestly, I've never been better. Thank you, Max."
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A couple of weeks pass and you repeat the same routine every night you spend together. He's giving you at least one orgasm per day.
You started feeling selfish, yearning to give him the same treatment back but not knowing how to bring it up with him.
You wait patiently for him to make the move, but he never asks. Being the gentleman he is, he doesn't want to pressure you.
"Max, tonight I want to make you feel good too." You say as he makes his way down your stomach to your already sopping core.
He slowly looks up at you in shock. Never could he believe that you'd be comfortable pleasuring him this soon. You could see the outline of his manhood in his briefs as he sat up.
"Are you sure about this? You don't have to, I'm enjoying giving you pleasure and I don't mind keeping it that way." He asks, but behind that caring gaze is a look that you can't place, it's like a fire out of control.
"No." You say as you grab his wrist. "I want to do this."
"Okay. Let's switch positions." And with that, you find yourself on your knees.
"Ready? You can start by touching me, and getting used to the feel and how I react to your touch."
"Like this?" You ask as you take his member into your hands, feeling and studying him, and rubbing up and down his length.
"Yes, Y/N. Just like that, oh god, don't stop."
When you touch the head of his throbbing and leaking dick he lets out a moan.
"Do you like that?" You smile up at him.
"God, yes." He responds.
You continue stimulating him with your hands, and when he announces that he's close you bend down, and give the tip a lick. He's bucking his hips at this point, desperate to come.
"Don't stop, Y/N, please." And you continue pumping him with your hands and you take the head into your mouth, sucking down on it. With each bob of your head, you take more of him into your mouth.
"Where do you want my seed?" He asks desperately.
With your mouth full of dick you only look up at him, and when he comes a few seconds later, he pulls you off him, but leaving you at close proximity. He pumps his cock which starts twitching and splurting out white streaks of cum. You've placed your face under him and feel the warmth on your face as he pumps out every last drop of his fluid.
"Y/N, that was fantastic, you're fantastic! Such a good girl for me…" He praises you as he cleans the sticky mess off your face.
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Miami.
You'd spend your time at the grandstands as usual, all to avoid getting associated with your boyfriend. You didn't feel like it was time to make your relationship public yet, Max would love to to make your love for each other official, but you didn't want to because of the tendency to get called out as a gold digger by the so-called fans.
It was warm, insufferably warm. You wore a flowy white sundress but were still sweating.
You were there with the other fans to cheer Max on as he drove past the checkered flag in the first place and yelled his name when he stood on the podium and heard the Dutch anthem as you had many times before, both at home but also when you'd attended races before.
Max and you shared the hotel room, much to your pleasure. You arrived before him, because of the interviews and briefings he had to do after the race. After you stepped into the room, you undressed and threw yourself onto the bed, naked. You were sticky and sweaty from the warm and humid weather. Getting yourself freshened up felt fitting, so you poured yourself a bath and sank in. The cooler water felt like heaven as you scrubbed your body clean.
You had no idea how long you stayed in that bath, but it must have been quite long because when you were in the process of drying off, you heard Max arriving.
"I'm in here!" You yell as you see Max peeking in through the door.
"Hi, my love." He tuts as you try to cover yourself up.
"Congrats on the win!" You smile at him.
"Thank you, schat. Now, what do you say about a special celebration?"
Slowly, he grabs the towel and lets it fall to the floor. His breath hitches when he sees your naked body.
"Ohhh… This is exactly what I was looking forward to when I walked up to the room."
For what seems like an eternity, you stand there while Max simply takes in your beauty. You cross your arms in order to cover yourself up.
"No, no, baby. Let me see you."
You both take deep breaths as you process your current experience. With each passing second, you can feel your core becoming increasingly hot.
"Max… Need you."
"Do you now?" He asks, with admiration in his eyes.
He steers your body towards the bedroom without breaking eye contact, analysing your facial expression as if he's afraid to accidentally overstep a boundary.
"You decide what we do today, liefje, I'm just your guide."
You stand there for a moment, considering your next move carefully. You sit down on the edge of the king-size bed. Max follows and sits down next to you, unable to keep his hands to himself. His hands are caressing your hands, arms, thighs, face, anywhere he could reach.
It didn't seem fair that you were sitting naked while he was fully clothed.
You straddle him in order to get closer. He seems surprised by your sudden confidence and pulls you impossibly closer to his warm body.
You lift his shirt gently and start tracing his stomach. Your touch leaves goosebumps along his skin, and he closes his eyes.
"Feels so good, sweetheart." He admits.
You remove his tee and begin working on his belt to remove the skinny jeans as well. The pace is slow; you take your time with one another. Max gently touches your sides as you unbutton his jeans. He assists you in removing them, leaving you to admire the magnificence of his body in front of you. Your gaze travels down to his growing member, making you look away.
"Come here." Max encourages you.
As you lie down next to him, he moves halfway over you, placing his leg in between yours. He places soft kisses along your jawline, along the edges of your mouth, along your eyebrows, along your collarbone.
"Is this okay?" He asks.
"Y-yeah." You nod as you pull his head closer to you. He moves down to your exposed breasts and starts sucking on the hardened nipples. His tongue caresses your tits and you feel your heat dripping in anticipation.
"Oh god, Maxie, need more." You comment.
"Patience, love." Max smirks.
His statement makes you groan, looking away from him, trying to cover yourself up.
"You're okay." He smiles as he continues massaging and sucking on your tits. The purple and red marks he leaves will be visible for days but you don't care at the moment.
His mouth finds your stomach, and there too, he leaves marks. When he reaches your mound, he stops.
"Can I go further?" He checks in.
"Yes, please, Maxie!" You instantly reply, sounding desperate.
Max hums and gives your mound a couple of appreciative kisses.
He moves down to your heat, and as you already knew, your juices were already leaking. You feel his heavy breaths on your clit, and Max stays there for a while, relishing in the sight of your pussy.
Then, out of nowhere, he plunges in.
The way he circles your clit causes you to buck your hips up and down again. He pushes down on your stomach and grounds you, continuing to eat your pussy. He teases your entrance with his tongue, opening you up a little.
"Taste so sweet…" He whispers under his breath.
Max has learnt what works for you these last weeks, and in 5 minutes you've had your first orgasm for the night.
You squeeze your eyes shut in pleasure, completely out of breath. Your chest keeps heaving up and down despite your best efforts to find your breath again, but just as you're about to fill your lungs with air, Max laps around your clit.
When he inserts a finger, you yelp.
"Shhhh, it's only my finger."
He curls his finger up towards your sweet spot and you yell out.
"Hngh, gonna cum again…" You manage to say in a strenuous tone.
Hearing that, Max starts sucking and pumping into you harder, and within a couple of seconds you're pushed over the edge once again.
You yell out your spasms and Max pauses, knowing you easily get overstimulated after cumming.
"More, more, more…" You chant.
"Do you want to go all the way, Y/N?"
"Yes, yes, yes, Maxie." And with that, you sit up, pushing him onto the bed.
You take his length into your hands and pump him a couple of times to see how he reacts to your touch. He looks up at you with blown eyes, giving you a wide smile. When you pump him a little harder though, his mouth turns into an O shape.
"Treating me so good, princess."
"Yeah? What about if I do this?" You ask and take his tip into your mouth. As you hollow your cheeks, you hear Max groan loudly but you're too occupied with taking his cock further into your mouth. You bend down a little further until you're on the limit of gagging. You don't dare to go lower. Max gives you an approving look, making sure that you're okay.
Your velvety soft cheeks must've driven Max incredibly close to the edge because you feel his cock twitch in your mouth. You can feel the salty precum on your tongue.
Oh lord, what if your parents found out what you were doing at the moment? They would disown you for sure.
You release his member from your mouth and brush the drool away with the back of your hand.
"Do you think you're ready for me?" He coos.
You stay quiet, pondering your answer carefully. You roll the ring around your finger nervously.
"J-just be careful." You stutter to him.
"Of course, my love." He whispers back as he places you on your back.
"Spread your legs for me." He asks of you while he pumps his cock.
You lift your knees up and slowly spread your legs a little.
"A little more." He demands. You spread them a few centimeters more before you close them shut again in embarrassment.
Max quickly finds himself at your side, peppering you with kisses and praise.
"Liefje, I know this isn't easy for you. I know your parent's lectures are plaguing your mind at the moment. But I just need you to know how incredibly beautiful you are and how turned on I am by you. Here, let me help you…" He says and spreads your legs with his hands. "There you go, good girl."
"I-I'm scared." You admit.
"What are you scared of?"
"The pain?" You ask yourself. You didn't really know what you were scared of, but it was eating you alive at the moment.
"As long as you relax and breathe, you'll be fine." Max comforts. "Ready?"
"Y-yeah." You nod.
He lifts your legs over his strong arms and pulls you closer to him. He pushes a finger into your pussy, and soon adds another one. The stretch scares you at first but you adjust after a couple of gentle pumps. Then, a third one. That's when you start to panic; if you're in this much pain now, how much more will you experience when Max fucks you?
But Max is good, and he slightly pulls back his fingers and slowly pushes them in again, opening you gradually.
When you feel his tip against your opening, you think of what he just told you. Relax and breathe.
"I'll push the tip in first, sweetheart, let me know if it's too much. Breathe with me."
When he lines up with your entrance, you look up at him. He looks like a god like this. Your gazes meet, and you start to breathe together. When he places his tip against you and gives it a little push, you feel a jolt of pain between your legs and yelp by pure instinct.
"You're okay, it's just the tip."
You cry out as Max stays put where he is. He looks down and concludes that the tip is indeed inside.
The face you make when he pushes into you a little further seems to worry him. You can't breathe, can't move, can't speak. The pain is too much to handle.
Max pulls out a little in order to let you recover. You've adjusted well to his tip, you can't feel any pain when just the tip is in.
"Do you want to continue?" Max asks.
"Of course I want to! I'm not backing down now." You exclaim.
Max pushes into you a little further while he caresses your hips. He watches your face in pity.
All of a sudden, after adjusting to his size, the pain subsides and as he's pumping into you, you feel pleasure. You gasp at the feeling of him inside you.
When he bottoms out, you both moan into each others mouths as you kiss.
"So tight for me, schat." He whispers in your ear.
You only groan as an answer, too overwhelmed to form any words. His pace is slow at first, but after checking in with you, his thrusts pick up in speed.
His hips piston into yours and you cry out another orgasm, lightening something within you. Your body is completely limp at this point, exhaustion evident in everything you say and do.
He grabs your hands, places them above your head, and holds them down with his bigger hands. Not that you'd have the energy to move your hands anyway.
His pace is relentless, fucking into you at an unforgiving pace.
"Turn around." He says as he guides you on your hands and knees.
Agonizingly slowly, he pushes into you again, taking care not to hurt you. This position makes you feel everything even more. As if things weren't intense enough, Max moves his hand down to your clit, circling it with his fingers.
"Where do you want my cum?" He asks.
You hadn't even considered this. "What about… In me? I'm on the pill, you know that."
"Hmmm… Classic." You and Max chuckle together.
Max does as you ask and spills his seed impossibly deep within you, chest heaving against yours. All you know is him for what feels like an eternity.
Your chests are heaving against each other, both of you out of breath.
You can't help letting out a small whimper when Max parts from you. You collapse on the bed from exhaustion.
You hear Max in the bathroom, and decide to check on him. When you're about to enter you crash into him.
"Oh! Sorry, I was just about to come get you. I'm running a bath for you, and I've brought a towel if you want to clean yourself up."
You spend the rest of the night talking while Max helps you bathe.
You grab the purity ring on your finger and throw it on the nightstand, not caring about either the ring or your parents opinions anymore.
You fall asleep comfortably, knowing that you were brave enough to finally do it. You finally surrendered yourself to the man you love and adore.
799 notes · View notes
tpwk-formula1 · 2 months ago
Note
Hi!!! I have an order for Lando Norris
Thin Crust -Red Sauce -Basil -Ham -Roasted Artichokes -Sun-dried tomatoes -Garlic - Root beer - Water - Vodka redbull - Yes
Thank you :)
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Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu
thin crust brother's best friend red sauce rough sex basil "I love to watch my cum leak from your pretty pussy" ham "You're so infuriating. Walking around like you own the place and then come back to my room to get fucked properly" roasted artichokes “im gonna put a baby in you” sun-dried tomatoes "Gonna look so pretty pregnant" garlic "I know you love it when I fill that pretty pussy with my cum" root beer daddy kink water breeding kink vodka redbull squirting dessert yes served by Lando Norris
Lando x Piastri! reader
AN - There will 100% be a part 2 soon! I have been wanting to do a pregnancy one shot and this is the perfect story to lead into everything! It will probably be a written and SMAU one shot!
TW - Pregnancy trapping (kinda), breeding kink, fingering, squirting, creampie
WC 980+
Y/N POV
“im gonna put a baby in you, tonight," Lando whispered into my ear as we leave the club we had just spent the last several hours at. It was the end of the year and Lando and Oscar decided to celebrate the end of the amazing season they had by inviting all their friends and drivers for a night out in Monaco.
"Alright, let's get your delusional ass home," I laugh while pulling us towards valet so we can get back into Lando's McLaren.
"I'm being serious, I want to get you pregnant, would be the perfect ending to a perfect season," Lando says with a bright smile making me laugh lightly climbing into the driver's seat since Lando had drank a bit too much to safely get us home.
"Please, don't drive crazy!" Lando says once I softly press down on the gas making me laugh.
"I may be no racecar driver but I have my license, we'll be fine," I respond as we drive back to Lando's place.
When we get back we climb out of the car and head up to his apartment where Lando was on me almost instantly.
"Fuck," I gasp when I feel his mouth move from mine down to my jaw and quickly finding my sweet spot near my ear where he sunk his teeth in and started to suck leaving a small hickey behind.
"Please, daddy," I whine making Lando look up at me with a slight smirk before trailing his wet kisses down my bare tummy coming face to face with soaking core where he instantly dives in and pulls my clit into his mouth.
"Fuck, daddy, so good," I moan making Lando speed up his actions with with mouth while also slipping his fingers into my soaked pussy and finding my G-spot with no yrouble.
"Oh! Feels so good daddy." I moan rather loudly when Lando sped up his fingers hitting my G-spot every time he fucked his fingers into me.
"I'm gonna cum daddy," I announce when I feel my growing close to the edge.
"Cum for me then," Lando mumbled into my pussy making me instantly fall over the edge and start cumming all over Lando's face squirting out my pleasure.
"Fuck, such a good slut cumming for me," Lando groans while sitting up and instantly shoving his cock deep into my pussy making me whimper at the feeling.
"Fuck daddy," I cry at the overstimulation but it does nothing to slow Lando's consistent fingers throwing me into an almost instant second squirting orgasm.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I chant while I feel the waves of my orgasm continue to crash over me.
"Fuck doing so good for me," Lando grunts while slipping his fingers out of me and sitting up before finally pushing his cock deep into my pussy making moan loudly at the stretch of his cock.
"Fuck, daddy so big," I gasp feeling Lando start to thrust his hips aggressively into my pussy.
"Fuck, take me like such a good slut," Lando grunts while speeding his thrusts up before bringing his fingers down to my clit and start rubbing small circles.
"Fuck daddy," I cry out when I feel another orgasm start to build.
"Better fucking hold that until I cum," Lando grunts when he can feel my pussy clenching tight around his thick cock.
"I don't think I can," I whine when I feel myself growing increasingly closer to the edge.
"You can and you will," Lando roughly tells me back while moving his hand away from my clit but still speeding up his thrusts.
"Fuck, cum with me," Lando grunts while bringing his hand back to my clit and roughly rubbing it throwing me over the edge and pulling Lando with me.
"Fuck daddy," I moan when I feel Lando's cum start hitting the walls of my tight pussy.
I know you love it when I fill that pretty pussy with my cum," Lando grunts while still pumping his cum deep into my pussy riding our orgasms out before he slowly slips his cock out of my pussy and watches as his cum starts to leak from my pussy.
"Fuck, I love to watch my cum leak from your pretty pussy," Lando grunts before running his fingers through my senstive folds and starts pushing some of his cum back into me before pulling his fingers out and offering them to me.
I lick them clean as Lando observes me before we heard the bedroom door open making both of us whip our head to the door.
"Oh fuck, gross," We hear Oscar stumble back out of the room making me look up at Lando with a bright red face.
"Fuck, I forgot he was staying here tonight," Lando admits making me roll my eyes and climb out of bed throwing on clothes before making my way out of the room to find Oscar laying on the couch.
"Hey, do you need anything?" I ask softly knowing Oscar was completely wasted right now.
"No, and I don't wanna see you until I know I won't throw up just thinking about what I just walked into," Oscar grumbles while getting more comfortable on the couch.
"Hopefully you'll be too drunk to remember," I mumble back before disappearing back into Lando's room where I find a new set of sheets on the bed as well as a dressed Lando getting comfortable.
6 weeks later
"Gonna look so pretty pregnant," Lando softly mumbles while rubbing his fingers softly over my flat stomach while we both stare at the positive pregnancy test.
"I told you I was gonna get you pregnant," Lando adds with a smirk making me break out in a small smile.
"We're gonna have a baby," I reply softly with a bright smile spread across my face.
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fuckingrecipes · 2 months ago
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Do you have any healthy snack suggestions for someone who isn't a huge fan of nuts and dried fruit?
FIRST: A 'Snack' is just a small portion of food. It is a signifier of quantity. 'Snack' does not exclude any type or form of food - it just means a lil' bit of food.
SECOND: "Healthy" is entirely relative to every individual.
'Healthy' is just 'Supportive of a complete nutritional profile, taking into account a person's existing diet, dietary needs, and habits of energy expenditure'
For example:
A small, greasy hamburger is an EXCELLENT snack for a highschool athlete who needs to consume an large amount of calories every day to maintain their body. It has lots of fat and protein for muscle recovery and long-term energy, carbs for immediate energy, and some lettuce/tomato/onion for some extra fiber/vitamins/minerals.
On the flip side, if someone already eats a fair amount of of meat and carbs already but has a lower-energy lifestyle, a healthy snack for them might entail leafy greens, beans/legumes and vegetables, because they need more fiber and nutrients in their diet that plants have in abundance.
--
If you are allergic to or hate eating something, then it's not healthy to force yourself to eat it anyway. Find a different food, or a different way to prepare it that doesn't cause physical or psychological distress!
Don't like peanuts, but peanut butter is good? Eat peanut butter instead! Hate the texture of whole tomatoes, but tomato sauce is good? Eat tomato sauce instead!
Don't be afraid to finely mince or blend your ingredients into a sauce or smoothie if you feel you need or want to eat something for the nutrients but hate chewing it.
--
I'm a big fan of probiotic stuff in general, like fermented foods (kimchi, pickles, sauerkraut, miso, mustard and yogurts), since a strong bacterial colony in the gut has a positive impact on wellbeing for most folks. More importantly, I love the taste.
Buuuuuuuut~ some people are extra sensitive to compounds that are concentrated in fermented foods. Those people should not eat a lot of fermented foods. It's not healthy for them.
--
If you're munching snacks out of boredom when you're not actually hungry, something low-fat but satisfyingly crunchy usually does the trick for me. Something I can keep devouring for the sensory delight, gives some good nutrients, and won't make me feel overly full afterward.
Carrots, bell peppers, mung bean sprouts, apples, pears, jicama, radish, pretzels, sweet onions, green papaya, broccoli, popcorn, cucumber, water chestnut, seaweed crisps, coconut chips, any of those fermented foods I mentioned... hell, coleslaw is mostly cabbage with oil and vinegar - plow through that and have a great time!
--
If you want a snack because you're hungry, but you just want to tide yourself over until the next meal, eat something that is high in fat and fiber. Fat & Fiber makes you feel full.
Cheese, Yogurt, Butter. Olive oil. Guacamole. Tinned fish. Cream. Fry up an egg. Olives, Hard-boiled eggs - These are all relatively high in fat.
Beans, Legumes, Oats, Leafy Greens, and most Berries are pretty high in fiber, and can pair up with any of the fatty things.
Hell, a slice of cheese pizza is also fine! Buttered toast is fine! A small portion of roast beef from last night's dinner!
Eat a little bit, wait 20 minutes, and see if you're still hungry after that. A normal stomach takes 20-30 minutes to register feeling satiated. (Some people's stomachs don't really feel the difference of hunger vs satiation. Those people need to be more mindful of the quantities of food they eat - both eating too much, AND eating too little!)
--
If you want a snack because salty snacks in particular sound fucking amazing, but other fatty and high-protein foods sound kinda gross, Try chugging a glass of water.
If water doesn't resolve the feeling after giving it a few minutes, try something with salt.
Dehydration and not having enough salt in your body both cause salt cravings. Acute thirst is often mistaken as hunger.
Honestly, you can have a handful of chips. Eating a whole family-sized bag of potato chips in one sitting is probably too much salt & fat for most people, but eating a handful here and there is fine. It's just as morally neutral as eating a carrot.
Eat some rice with soy sauce. Eat some pickled okra, or pickled onions. Eat some miso soup. Drink some soup broth. Have some salt-cured meats.
--
So: A Healthy Snack!
Ask yourself: Am I hungry, bored, or thirsty?
Ask yourself: What have I been eating lately, and what has my diet lacked, or had in excess? (Fats, Protein, Carbohydrates, Vitamins/Minerals, Water, Salt)
Ask yourself: Am I trying to provide my body with a complete nutritional profile, including fats and carbs - or am I focusing on an imagined 'purity' of food and assigning moral value to eating what diet culture calls healthy so I can be 'good.' (Aka: Do you think instances of eating candy or fatty food is 'being bad'? Stop that.)
Ask yourself: Am I able to rely on my body's signals for hunger and thirst, or do I need to manually track this?
Sometimes a snack is a small portion of leftovers from yesterday.
Sometimes a snack is carefully sliced, cooked, and arranged on a cute plate.
Sometimes a snack is gnawing through half a head of cabbage doused in vinegar.
Sometimes a snack is a handful of shredded cheese eaten from your own palm so you become both the gentle horse and the stablehand feeding it, and that's all okay
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giuseppe-yuki · 2 months ago
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Since franco is quite unhinged and not PR trained, I feel like his girlfriend would be equally as unhinged and unpredictable like an orange cat constantly doing stupid things like climbing on stupid things and doing funny stuff around the paddock and becoming a fan favourite duo of unpredictable and hilarious behaviour - especially in the fan zone
FRANCO’S POOR PR MANAGER!!!!!
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picture credits from pinterest :)
franco colapinto x orange cat shapeshifter!reader
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“franco,” the disheveled looking woman snaps, a look of pure annoyance on her face. “tell your fucking cat to get down from those spare tires right now!
rolling his eyes, franco stops his laughter from looking at you prancing on tires and beckons you over.
leaping off the tower of rubber tires, you scamper over to his side, butting your head playfully against his leg. you couldn’t understand why you couldn’t have a little fun in the paddock though. it was media day, and those were soooo boring. his pr manager was a total killjoy. and besides, the fans loved you, so wouldn’t that be good for your boyfriend’s public image?
as if proving your point, the fans gathered around the fanzone squeal as you pad next to franco and his disgruntled pr manager.
while he stops momentarily to sign a few pieces of merch, you claw your way up his shoulder. the man getting his merch signed laughs, pointing his camera at your purring figure perched on franco.
“yeah, sorry, she does that sometimes,” you boyfriend remarks, recapping the pen and handing it back to the fan.
you grin at him, flashing your sharp cat canines at the camera. suddenly, an epic thought crosses your mind. what if you did a backflip off of franco’s shoulder and landed on the ground perfectly? that would be kind of cool.
gathering your wits, you leap off of your boyfriend and do two flips in the air before landing gently on your four paws. the fans in the fanzone erupt into cheers.
“ha!” your boyfriend laughs, pointing at you proudly leaping in circles on the ground. “simone biles who? make way for next big olympic gymnast!”
seeing the commotion, franco’s pr manager speeds over. “franco!” she hisses, dragging him away from the crowd. “you can not be saying that! we don’t want a bad public image from you slandering simone biles!”
“slandering???” franco says, in shock. “i was not slandering. i was merely making a comparison between her and my extraordinarily talented cat!”
you meow loudly, as if backing him up.
franco’s pr manager just pinches her nose and groans.
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it’s not even ten minutes before you accidentally get yourself into trouble again.
a young fan sits on the sidewalk, talking animatedly to his mother, leaving his lunch open and inviting. hey, if he didn't want it, you’d gladly take it. you were pretty much starving after spending a good part of the day doing media duties with franco.
charging towards the open container, you take a huge bite of the contents, which turns out to be lasagna.
the boy turns around, eyes wide at seeing not only the orange cat eating his food, but also at franco colapinto jogging towards him.
“i-i-is this your cat?” he stutters out, blinking quickly at the sight in front of him, disbelieving.
“er, yes,” franco responds. scooting by the kid, he bends down and grabs you by the scruff of your neck, trying his best to separate you from the container of lasagna that you were trying your best to shove into your mouth at an ungodly speed.
the boy, seeing your actions, laughs. “she’s just like garfield!”
your boyfriend only successfully removes you from the container after you’ve devoured the entire piece of lasagna. “sorry buddy,” he says to the kid sheepishly, with your tomato-sauce covered body dangling from one hand. “i’ll give you a piece of merch to make up for the lasagna.”
still manhandling you with one hand, he uncaps a sharpie with his teeth and scribbles his signature on his own williams-branded jacket. he shrugs it off with a bit of difficulty before dumping it in the kid’s arms. the small fan ecstatically beams at franco, and thanks him profusely.
when your boyfriend squeezes by the crowd of people that were gathered to see the scene play out, he finds his pr manager standing with her arms crossed with a rather disappointed look on her face.
“did you even think before doing whatever that was?” she questions franco, simultaneously glaring at you.
when you give her a hiss of annoyance at reprimanding your boyfriend, she just about snaps.
“yeah, you’re done,” she say irritatedly. “franco, take yourself and your cat back into your driver’s room. you're grounded. both of you are prohibited from coming out for the next hour.”
you giggle inside. that’s a win for you, honestly. an hour with just yourself and franco? sounds like a great time to get into a little more mischief!
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starlit-mansion · 2 years ago
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Heartbroken to report that it may be my pumpkin spice coffee that's giving me daily indigestion... but also i've been eating sour patch kids and warheads and salt & vinegar chips and tomatoes and drinking a different brand seltzer and milk (not acidic but ends up increasing acid production later) so it's been hard to narrow down what's been causing it
0 notes
richeeduvie · 1 month ago
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Birdhouse in Your Soul / DRABBLE
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Oswald can’t believe a girl like you would like him. Unprovoked - especially after he thought you were finding him funny when there's nothing to laugh at. He don’t deserve it, but he’s not gonna deny himself.
IM SORRY DOG N BONE AND MADMAN GIRLIES I JUST NEEDED TO GET IT OUT OF MY SYSTEM 😭😭🧍🏻‍♂️ik I'm gonna get bullied down to my ass for this
WARNINGS: Jealousy, insecurities, self-hatred. All from Oz, I love lonely men, Oz is a lgbtq ally but he thinks some stereotypical things concerning fashion. Annoyance against the reader (only for a bit)
-- OVER 1.5K --
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.
The first time he sees you is in shit lighting. The diner Oz’s chosen got swinging lamps over him, dim as fuck. But he doesn’t choose a place to eat for the ambience. So, he chews on a burger - enjoys his meal alone. He doesn’t prefer to eat alone, but he usually does, don’t mean nothing but everyone’s busy at different times.
Then, he sees you. Or…really, he catches you seeing him. Oz doesn’t blink when he does, but his brows come down when you turn your head quickly.
The fuck you staring at?
Oz swallows his bite before he takes another, his eyes still on the woman in the booth across from him. He saw you when you came in, he tried to forget you were there at all.
He ain’t no got no business staring at a beautiful woman he can’t pay for.
That’s a simple fact. He means…his eyes took to you - his heart went up in his fucking ears at a two, three second glance. He’s not gonna fucking give you that, not now - with all your staring problems. It don’t matter if your looks, not just beautiful, but is also something to grip him by the neck as he forced himself to turn away.
Then, he almost forgot you were there when he was enjoying his burger, too much tomato, though.
But now, he catches you staring at him again.
The fuck is wrong with you? There ain’t such a thing as manners for pretty girls? He’s seen it before, that there’s some people in life that can get by without learning how to survive, how latch onto any sense of the word decency because of what they were gonna grow up to be. In your case…he didn’t think extreme beauty can be such a negative on a person, but it's getting at him. He wishes it didn't, but it's really getting at him.
Oz looks away from you with another bite and swallow, he sighs out - it's heavy on the breath. Trying to breathe away the parts of himself that are close to getting pissed off.
You're a fidgety broad, something about him scare you?
He tries not to look again in the seconds of facing the front of his booth, but he fails. Maybe it's your unfortunate beauty a man's not gonna keep himself from even though he should, maybe it's him wanting to know if you're gawking at him again, despite the fact that he knows it ain't gonna feel good. Ignorance is bliss works in how he turns people in his favor in his line of work, and ignorance is bliss works in how he wouldn't feel his heart drop and arms burn like a little fucking pussy boy if he didn't look to see if you were staring at him.
But Oswald does. And you are. His eyes meet yours before you try turning like he didn't just fucking catch you again. Fine, he's not a pretty guy, catch a glance or two at him - but he's not gonna tolerate wordless bullying when he's trying to enjoy a meal alone. Not when he doesn't have to.
Not when he can't stop himself from saying anything about it, Oz hasn't ever been able to, really.
He drops his burger on his plate, it clunks as he straightens his back out.
"You-"
You turn at the word just when a glob of sauce falls from Oz's mouth to his suit.
You gotta be fucking kidding me.
"Fuck."
Oz's chin presses into his neck when he looks down to try and wipe the stain off of his suit's breast.
And everything burning at the sight of a most beautiful lady trying to go ahead and stifle a laugh when he looks back up.
Always something to ogle at, always something to laugh at - they don't know what he can do, he can't hide his anger. He shouldn't, nobody should be laughing at him anymore. Why do people laugh at him? After all this time, everything he's done.
You're not even apart of his work, you're not laughing cause you find him a weak gimp at his own job, you're just laughing at the outside - because all of his body and face is just fucking hilarious.
Why does he gotta think you're so pretty?
Oz leans forward, throwing his crumpled napkin on the table.
"What's so interesting about what you're looking at that you can't go two goddamn seconds without staring at me while you're eating your food? Huh? Look what you made me do."
He's sorry for a second, talking to a woman like this - especially when your face drops, but somebody's gotta teach you manners, before you mess with an even uglier guy with a worse disposition, yeah?
Oz watches your throat bob.
"I'-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...gawk. I know, I shouldn't stare. I just..." Your mouth parts, but no words come for three or so seconds. "I really..."
And in the silence, there it is - that face. Oswald wears that face something, or whatever's on yours. Of course, you wear it better. But it's how he looks when he's trying to figure out what to say, how to turn a situation in his favor. Head slightly tilted down, mouth slightly parted. He's sure that if his eyes weren't waiting on you, that you'd be staring at him.
Trying to lie your way out of this. Fine, he understands. Whateva.
"I really like your suit. Sorry I ruined it."
Oz's muscles around his nose scrunch with his brows. He doesn't like how the compliment hits his veins like it's drops to a drophead's eyes.
He doesn't like how he almost falters.
"...You trying to buy one for yourself?"
A lesbian, maybe. What a damn shame for the better-looking fellas of Gotham. But alright, good on the ladies. Oz takes in a breath.
"Oh, no."
"...Watching the model to see if you'll like it on your boyfriend?"
"No. No, I just - I just like it on you."
Oz doesn't blink, not when you turn away from him, not when your eyes come back to him with a smile. Something warm, gorgeous. Fucking confusing.
What in the absolute hell?
You're still in on the joke in your own head, this is material for whatever you'll laugh at, because that's too close to a woman who looks like you calling him handsome. You wouldn't ever naturally do that.
"Listen, sorry I came at you like that - but you don't have to make up a..." Oz turns his hand over and over, rolls his wrist. "A story to get away from the heat."
You shake your head and scoot closer to the outside of your booth. You're wearing a cheap outfit, but it fits you well.
Jesus, be a gentlemen, Oz - even if this broad is making fun of you. Either that or she's crazy. Or maybe she's legally blind and don't got her glasses on.
"No, I just like the way you wear it. Really. It wouldn't take much like a man like you to make a suit look good."
Oz is still. Fucking stiff. You laugh at yourself, you sound like you're embarrassed at what you're saying.
"I know it's wrong to stare, if I was a man and you were...not a man and you caught me staring at you, I'd be a creep. I guess the fact that I have a vagina doesn't make my gawking any less creepy. Sorry, would excuse my creepiness if I told you you were too handsome to look away?"
Oz blinks. He looks to the sugar packet on his table. He remembers reading somewhere in a magazine, years ago - when he was driving for Sofia and waiting for her in the car, there was something about if how you're in a dream, you can tell you're in one if you look at something that has words on it, but you can't read them. That's what he tries to look for, because what do you fucking mean?
What the hell is going on?
Oz decides he can laugh too. He smiles with it.
"Really, sweetheart...you don't gotta-"
"I know, it doesn't change the fact my eyes were looming, I'm sorry-"
"You want a refill on the coffee, sweetheart?"
Oz doesn't end up picking diners cause of their lighting, but he takes the service into consideration. What kind of waiter just breaks into a conversation like this?
It's a guy asking you if you want more coffee, not old enough to be the fatherly type calling every younger patron "sweetheart" or "buddy". He's a pretty boy.
Oz's hand comes into a fist, he knocks on the wood of the table for the sake of stimulation. He breathes through his mouth before pulling his lips from side to side.
"I'm good, Will. Thank you, though."
"Going for afternoon desert?"
"I don't think for today."
His eyes flicker up from his fist to where pretty boy smiles at you. You smile back.
Yeah, you're just saying things. Saying things don't mean anything. Oz should know. But he bets it's easier for you to get people to listen to you - believe you with a face and body like that. With a smile that rolls through the...entirety of him. He scratches his brow.
"Alright...I'll just-"
"Guy behind you don't get a refill?"
Pretty boy turns to him. Yeah, buddy - do your job.
"...Oh. Sorry, sir-"
Oz puts his hand up, his head nods once before he lifts his chin up slightly.
"I'm, uh...I'm just keeping you alert, Buddy. I don't need anything."
"Oh...okay."
The boy doesn't laugh. People don't laugh when they should sometimes. He turns to leave after you ask him for the check.
"What you doing not telling him he's a handsome fella? Don't call him humorous, though."
It's a real question. You're just saying things to the guy, for a minute - he thought you could've been real in your compliments. God forbid, he almost called it flirting. Like a doll like you, someone he's taken with so quickly, flirts with Oswald Cobb for free.
Now, he's not completely avoidant in giving credit where credit is due. He can be a good guy for a lady, lady of the night - lady in the club. Hell, Oz is sure that if he really tried, a broad on the street could take a liking to him without knowing the life he's making for himself. He's said it...he's an acquired taste. He dresses well, sometime he can look good. He tries to keep clean. But Oz ain't blind. You look like that, a beauty even in this diner. That's not him just being loose, you are beautiful. Oz is...he's real about it.
What lady like you would want him so damn openly?
You blink fast, eyes flicking before smiling thin at him.
"I've got my own tastes."
Oz's charm drops from his fucking face. What you're hinting smacks the word stunned across it.
You look down at your watch, also cheap. The fact you probably don't got a man in your life to buy you better things strikes him too. The thought comes in.
He could take care of you.
It comes too fast, Oz thinks. It's been six or so fucking minutes of what he thought was a bullying he couldn't handle like a pussy-fuck to thinking you was crazy, and the second you've convince him with that..."I've got my own tastes", Something like belief comes beating at his heart. The thought this can go somewhere, all from a woman he hasn't know for more than stares and excuses to want to believe, against every bone in his damn body.
But he'd be too stupid to believe you based on words alone, he knows how to spin words - pull them apart from his hand and watch people eat out of it while he plays it like he's eating out of theirs. But maybe it's your face that makes it hard.
But maybe you're telling the truth, and if so, it feels too fucking good.
"Shit, I gotta go."
You throw money on the table before standing up.
Lucky you, gotta go before you have to make something out of your sweettalk, but it still feels good. Feels fucking good to be like, but it doesn't feel real.
But he has it in the palm of his hands.
"That's the last I get of your flattery? That's a shame, doll."
Oz is good at making it sound like a tease instead of a real question of offense. Yeah.
"If you enjoyed that burger enough to come back, maybe you'll catch me around here. I'm a regular. Nice to meet you...and your suit."
"...Yeah, nice to meet you too."
Oz watches you leave out the door with its bell ringing.
What a woman with words he don't deserve. He'll keep himself humble here. He don't deserve your flattery and smiles to be a truth, as much as it rumbles all over his body - he thinks he'd be fucking blushing if he let himself be more of a pussy-fuck than he can be. Not now, though.
Now, the ideas roll in. You like him. You think he's handsome. You smiled, and you're not taking a car to wherever you're going. He can see you walking down the street from his window booth.
He ain't no fucking stalker, not when he has to be. He'd never do that to a lady who don't like him, even if she was as pretty as you are.
Oz takes one last bite of his burger, yeah. Sure. It's good enough. He leaves his cash on the table before taking himself out the door.
But you do like him. And unlike him, you shouldn't ever have a reason to lie.
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theemissuniverse · 1 year ago
Text
“BOYFRIEND TAX” JOHNNY CAGE X FEM!READER
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SUMMARY : Johnny usually slaps your ass but this time he doesn’t
WARNING : MINORS DONT INTERACT! p in v, “good girl” , backshots, praise kink, probably some other stuff I’m leaving out
MASTERLIST
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You could not escape the ass slapping of Johnny Cage. He couldn’t help but smack your ass everywhere the two of you went. Everywhere.
Johnny did not care if you were in private or around people. Johnny always took his opportunity to smack your ass which irritated you to no end. (You liked it in reality though.)
Even as simple as bending down to pick something up. Johnny was right there to smack it. Not only that but get behind you and fake fuck you.
You even tried smacking his own ass. “See! It’s annoying isn’t it?”
Johnny just smirked at you. “Jokes on you. I’m into that.” You groaned and walked away from him, leaving him laughing.
But when he didn’t do it-nothing felt right.
You were in your guy’s home. You finished making spaghetti for dinner and went to tell your boyfriend that was sitting down, reading over a script.
“Dinner is ready, dear. Do you want me to make you a plate now?”
“Yeah, go ahead, babe.”
You were about to walk back in the kitchen when you noticed something on the floor in front of where Johnny was sitting. You walked over and bent down to pick it up. Your ass was facing right in front of Johnny.
You expected an ass smack but did not receive one. You blinked, confused.
Picking the trash up, you turned around to see Johnny was invested in what he was reading. You didn’t understand why it made you mad he didn’t do it. You placed your hands on your hips as you looked down at him. “Excuse you.”
Johnny looked up from his script to look at you. “Yeah, babe?”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Johnny thought long and hard to see what you could possibly be mad about. He then made a face as if he understood. “Oh yeah.” He stood up from the couch. You awaited for your ass to be smacked but instead he placed his right hand on your waist. He then gave you a sweet kiss on the lips. “Thanks for cooking dinner, baby. Damn, you look hot.”
It was always nice when Johnny gave you a compliment especially when you didn’t look the best. I mean, you literally were wearing an apron and tomato sauce was all over you. But that’s not what you wanted.
Before Johnny could sit back down, you grabbed his arm. “No! That’s not it.” You removed your hand from his arm. “I bended down in front of you and you didn’t do anything.”
It clicked in Johnny’s head. He laughed a little. “Aw, babe.” He pulled you by the waist and he gave you a smack on the ass before he pulled you closer to him. “I knew you liked when I did that.”
You suppressed your moan and pushed him off of you. “Yeah, well it’s not the same if I have to ask you. You must be thinking about some other girl’s ass.” You took off your apron and threw it at him.
Walking away from him, Johnny rolled his eyes slightly and knew to follow you or it would be sleeping on the couch for him tonight. “You know your ass is the only one I think about.”
When you walked in the kitchen, you made a hand motion to him as if to mimic his talking. Sometimes you could be more childish than him.
Johnny gave you a look. “Really? That’s the card we’re playing?”
“Go be with the girl who’s ass you’d rather smack.”
Johnny got behind you. He gripped onto your pants and slid his hands so he was also gripping your underwear. In one swift motioned, he made both of them drop to your ankles. He licked his fingers and brought you to his chest. Then stuck his fingers inside your pussy, making you moan. “I’ll show you the girl that I want to be with.”
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You probably should’ve left well enough alone. (Then again, probably not.) Johnny had you bent over the kitchen table as he fucked you from behind.
Johnny watched your ass jiggle with each thrust and he smacked your ass a couple times. You were moaning uncontrollably. “Is this what you wanted? Ah baby all you had to do was ask.”
“Oh my god. Yes. Fuck me just like that.”
He groaned at your talking. His hands felt all over your ass and he gave it some good hard smacks. “Mmm. All this ass is mine.” He gripped your hips harshly. “Shit, you feel so damn good.”
Stuff was getting knocked off the table but the two of you didn’t care about it.
You started to throw your ass back on his dick. Johnny helped you with each thrust. “There you go.” He rubbed your ass soothingly. “Who’s my good girl?”
“I’m your good girl. Oh god. I am Johnny.”
“You better believe it.”
Your release was starting to come close. You threw your ass back at him even harder. Your pussy was so wet that your juices were running down your thigh. “I’m about to cum. Please make me cum.”
Johnny moaned at your words. He rubbed your back as he pounded into you. “Cum on me, baby. Make my dick wet.”
His words made you lose it. “Oh, Johnny. I’m cumming! I’m cumming!”
“That’s it baby. Cum on me. Just like that.”
Johnny felt you come undone on him. He pounced into you until you were completely done. Then he pulled out of you.
He grabbed his pants and pulled them on before buttoning them back closed. “You’re so fucking hot.” Johnny noticed your knees were a little weak. He helped pull your own pants and underwear up.
Johnny gave you a kiss on your cheek. “What about you?” You asked him.
“Eh. You can get me after dinner.” He smacked your ass and gave you a wink before walking away.
You were hot? He was so fucking hot.
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