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#Holding Hands: Ice Princess
yuujispinkhair · 3 months
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Hockey player! Sukuna headcanons
Inspired by this lovely ask by @subarusuguru. You made my head spin with the idea of hockey player Sukuna!! Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts with me! I had to write a little something 💗
Pairing: Hockey player!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff + smut Word Count: 700 Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of injuries, but nothing bad. All characters are of age. Divider by @/benkeibear
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Hockey player!Sukuna, who is a devil on the ice. The rival teams always know they will have several injured players after each match against Sukuna. He has a very aggressive playstyle, and his speed and strength, combined with his quick mind, make him unstoppable.
Hockey player!Sukuna, whose maroon eyes always find you when he enters the ice. He winks at you and makes a kissy face, laughing when you blow him a kiss back. The whole hockey arena can know that you are his, and he is yours. And anyone who dares make a rude comment about him being so soft for his girl will receive a brutal body check that sends them facefirst onto the ice or into the boards.
Hockey player!Sukuna, who has a mad glint in his eyes during the whole match. He is ambitious and confident, and he always plays to win. He loves being an asshole and taunt his opponents, laughing when he can get under their skin with his snide comments. But no matter how much Sukuna riles them up, they still aren't able to stop him because he always puts his whole anger and strength into his game.
Hockey player!Sukuna, who is a completely different man when he goes on the ice with his princess. Treating you with so much care and being such a gentleman. He holds your hand to make sure you don't fall when he teaches you how to ice skate. And once he can see you are ready for the next step, he lets go of you and tells you to skate toward him to get a kiss.
Hockey player!Sukuna, who has so much fun when showing you how to play hockey. Your time on the ice is filled with playful fights and good-natured teasing comments that are so flirty that you get butterflies the whole time. His laugh sounds different too, happy and free, and he only uses his strength to pick you up and pin you against the boards so he can kiss you until you are breathless.
Hockey player!Sukuna, who grins that charming grin when he lets you score and praises you for being such a natural talent, even though you know you suck. Of course, Sukuna also has to show off a little in front of his girl, and he steals the puck from you easily, making you gasp at his speed and watch with wide eyes and a smitten expression on your face as your boyfriend skates across the ice and shoots the puck into the goal with so much force it almost rips the net.
Hockey player!Sukuna, who feels a proud buzz running through his veins anytime he sees you in his jersey. Somehow it drives him crazy to see you walking around with his last name on your back. It spurs him on to play even better and show you that he is worthy to be your man. Maybe he should buy a ring and give you his last name on your ID too, and not just on a jersey.
Hockey player!Sukuna, who loves to fuck you in the locker room after every match when his teammates have left. A victory fuck to celebrate when he is still pumped full of adrenaline and euphoria, pulling you onto his lap and bouncing you on his thick cock while groaning in your ear and telling you that it is all thanks to your love and support that makes him play so damn good. Or an angry fuck after a loss to make him feel ok again, lifting you up and slamming you against the shower wall, snapping his hips fast, fucking you hard and deep, growling your name when he cums in you and finds sweet relief in your warm cunt.
Hockey player!Sukuna, who can't stop smiling when you dote on him when he is injured after a rough match. He has a high pain tolerance and doesn't really worry all that much about the injuries, but he loves it when you take care of him and look at him with so much worry in your eyes. It makes him feel so warm, and so he happily plays along and lets you change his bandages, pet his hair, and cuddle him.
Hockey player!Sukuna, who loves to win, but who thinks his biggest victory was winning your heart.
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I am so in love with him!! Thank you so much for sending me that prompt!! I hope you liked my little headcanons ;)
Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗
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chuluoyi · 19 days
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yours, indefinitely
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- geto suguru x reader
each memorable and meaningful moment shared by the two of you during your journey to parenthood ♡
genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact! (yes i can't resist it) pregnancy, a lot of comfort and love, insecurities, hurt/comfort, a dash of crack, soft!geto, massive and absolute fluff !!
note: based on this and this. this... is an idea i got after writing drabbles about soft dad gojo :') you all know this is my first time writing geto and the first time in a while i'm writing a longer fic so i'm having a lot of doubts but i hope you'll enjoy it!! wc. 3k !
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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When you found out that you were five weeks pregnant, you were genuinely conflicted for two reasons— one, it was unexpected as you weren't even married yet, and two, you were anxious about your boyfriend's reaction to the news.
But contrary to your worries and fears, doubts and tears... Geto Suguru marries you. He led you to the city hall almost immediately— and just like that, in the eyes of the law, you were officially husband and wife.
Because he has always known that he wants to share his life with you, and with this newfound responsibility, it only reinforces his conviction that he wants that kind of forever with you.
month two
Your pregnancy wasn't a breeze—no pregnancy is, to be exact—and you had resigned yourself to mornings of throwing up, but you definitely didn't expect that you would get so sick to the point of almost passing out in the bathroom.
You never wanted Suguru to see you like this, but when a strong arm got a hold of you and pulled back your hair, your heart soared regardless.
"Hey, you okay?" Suguru asked, clear worry lined in his eyes. It was five in the morning—he must've been awoken by the ruckus you caused in the bathroom.
When you heaved a breath and nodded, his frown deepened. "Why didn't you call me?"
"N-no, Sugu—" the words barely left your lips before the overwhelming urge to retch hit you again and you doubled over the toilet bowl.
Suguru maintained a steady hold on your body, and not once did he waver even when you puked your guts out. His grip only loosened when you were done, supporting you up and assisting you in rinsing your mouth at the sink.
"Do you feel better?" he asked gently, dabbing your mouth with a tissue. "Do you want me to get you some water?"
"Suguru, you don't have to—" you untangled yourself from him feebly, still feeling faint. "It stinks here—"
"I have to," he reinforced, gaze boring straight at you. "Do you really think a smelly bathroom will stop me?"
“I d-don't want to trouble you...”
Suguru sighed and the next thing you knew, you found yourself being lifted in a princess carry, his hands securely under your knees. Surprised, you let out a yelp. "Suguru! P-put me down!"
"I'm telling you, you should trouble me," he pursed his lips together, face inching closer to yours, his dark eyes captivating, almost drawing you in. "We're in this together, remember?"
And in that very second, the sound of your heartbeat echoed in your ears, and with it a renewed sense of love you had for this man, once just a figure you admired from afar and now, wholly your husband.
"Yeah..." you responded with a soft smile, completely unaware that Suguru cherished seeing that expression on your face more than anything else.
month three
When you reached the third month, you thank all heavenly deities out there that your nausea was getting much better.
But in its place was your outrageous craving requests that more often than not sent Suguru into a daze.
"Wha? Say that again?" he looked at you with twitching eyes, mostly in disbelief. "You can't seriously ask me to... get what?"
"Ice cream with lemon toothpaste flavor," you looked at him with sad puppy eyes, almost resembling that glassy-eyed emoji. "It seemed tasty, Suguru... I want it."
His immediate response was clear this time. "No. Love, that... I doubt that combination even exists."
"Hmph... but baby wants it."
"But—!"
"Or I'll just get the toothpaste and—"
"No! Absolutely no!" okay, this was crazy, but Suguru would figure it out, somehow. "You can't eat toothpaste! I'll get it for you, okay!"
"Teehee~" your small giggle actually made his head spin even further, but if it meant you and your baby's wellbeing, Geto Suguru would cross the roads and did something to get you that non-existent ice cream.
In the end, he settled for mint and orange (because the parlor ran out of lemon) to recreate the nonsense of lemon toothpaste flavor. But when you tasted it, your eyes welled up with tears though.
“This... doesn't taste like toothpaste or lemon,” you sniffled, feeling betrayed. “Suguru, you liar.”
. . . oh, and here goes round two of wild goose chase of recreating edible ice cream for you and the baby. Sigh.
month four
With each passing day, your belly swelled, becoming increasingly prominent and rounder. And you wouldn’t believe it but the pregnancy glow was there—through your husband’s eyes, you looked most radiant, carrying his baby.
And it multiplied more when he saw you interact with his two girls.
"Miss Y/N, is it a boy or a girl?" Nanako inquired, touching your bump, her voice filled with excitement.
"Ah, we haven't found out yet..." you patted her in the head, quite touched that now she cared for you this much too. "What do you think it's going to be, Nanako-chan?"
"Ooh, it has to be a boy! If it's a boy, surely he'll be as handsome as Master Geto!"
Mimiko, ever the calmer of the two, hummed. "Hmm, personally I think it's going to be a girl."
"Ehh? If it's a girl... I guess, yeah— at least she's going to be cute!"
Maybe it was your hormones at play, but your spirits dampened somewhat when you noticed how Nanako leaned more towards the prospect of baby brother. The thought lingered in your mind even later that night on your marital bed, as Suguru spooned you from behind.
“Come to think about it, I think we can find out the gender right about now…” you mused, stroking your belly absentmindedly. “Suguru, do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”
Suguru chuckled, placing his warm, bigger hand over yours on your growing tummy. “Hmm, you first. What do you think?”
"Honestly... a girl. At least, if it were up to me, I want a girl though."
"Ah, cute." Suguru felt his smile broaden at the very idea. "Mimiko and Nanako will get an adorable sister to play dress up with."
You nibbled your lower lip. "But you'd want a boy, wouldn't you?"
"Hm? No," he responded almost immediately. "Quite the opposite, actually. I'm with you on this one. A girl would be nice."
"Even when you already have the twins?"
"Another baby girl— what's so bad with that?" Suguru sighed against your neck, his palm still tenderly caressing your belly. "One who will look like you—the woman whom I love the most... what are you worried about?"
One thing you loved about Suguru was his eloquence. His words had the power to persuade you, even when they seemed at odds with your own beliefs. And more often than not, his words were always aimed to make you feel safe.
And right now, you couldn't have loved him more.
. . .
In your next checkup, as if the gods were all granting your wish all this time— you're having a girl.
month five
“Why won’t she kick?” Suguru pressed his ears on your tummy on the bed, brows knitting together.
You grinned. “She was quite lively a little while ago. She's probably resting now.”
Suguru pursed his lips into a pout, snuggling closer to your round belly. “Hmm, little one, can you hear me? Just one kick for papa, please?”
Moments like this were ones you cherished the most. Your husband's love for your unborn child always filled your heart with warmth.
“She’s not responding.” Suguru sat up with a gentle sigh, a hint of disappointment shadowing his expression. Yet, he quickly mustered a warm smile for you. “Tired after bothering mama, huh?”
Suddenly, you let out a hearty chuckle. “You know, Suguru… I think our baby resembles you.”
He blinked in puzzlement. “Eh? How so?”
“She’s so peaceful, hardly causes me any discomfort lately—she’s idyllic, just like you.” You could feel your face getting warm but you just had to say this to your husband.
Suguru was visibly taken aback, but then the hints of pink tinted his face as he smiled. “Well… I’m glad that it’s been a smooth experience for you so far.”
Your heart swelled at his tender, genuine smile. Then, as if on cue, you felt the familiar stirrings and flutter inside—
“Suguru!”
You caught his hand and placed it on your tummy, just in time for your daughter to kick.
Suguru’s eyes sparkled with awe. "Did she just—?"
It was a profound moment for him, feeling the tangible sign of the new life you both had created. And as your laughter filled the room, light and joyful, Suguru knew with unwavering certainty—
He would do everything in his power to protect you and this baby. Who had become his whole world now.
month six
It began as one ordinary day— before came the most horrific incident Suguru never thought would happen to you.
He got a call that you had passed out in the train station. Suguru had never truly known fear until then, feeling every hair on his body stand on end. The details he was provided were frustratingly vague, and he desperately tried not to think the worst.
He was teetering on the edge of a panic attack as he made his way towards the hospital you were brought to. The mere possibility of anything harmful happening to either you or the baby was unbearable. He didn't allow himself to consider any negative outcomes, driven by the need to be by your side.
By the time he arrived, you had regained consciousness, though you were still drifting in and out, clinging onto your swimming consciousness.
"Are you okay? Love, talk to me." Suguru got a hold of your hand as soon as he arrived, voice trembling. "What happened?"
"Suguru..." you managed to reply in feeble voice, still feeling the dull pounding in your temples. You could feel him squeeze your hand tighter. "I-I'm sorry... to m-make you worry..."
"Why are you saying sorry?" Suguru gritted his teeth in frustration. Always putting others first, he loved and sometimes hated that trait of yours. He stroked your hair. "Tell me how you feel. Do you feel better? Or should I call the doctor?"
Seeing how deeply concerned he was for both you and your baby brought a tear to your eyes. "I'm f-fine... just a little dizzy is all."
Once the doctor examined you and determined that you needed to stay in the hospital for a day due to low blood pressure, Suguru was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.
"You really, really scared me," he said in a raspy voice. "So many things could've gone wrong. What if you fell into the tracks instead? You would— I —" his voice actually hitched. "I could've lost both of you today."
At his words, a new flood of tears threatened to spill from your eyes, and you couldn't help but sniffle. Suguru immediately comforted you.
“You’re okay, you’re okay… Don’t cry, please.” He cradled your face gently, thinking he had spooked you. “Just rest. I’m here,” and his other hand rubbed your belly for reassurance. “You and the baby are safe.”
Through this, you realized once again just how secure you were, with him.
month seven
You had been taking the prenatal classes lately—Suguru insisted on it because there was nothing he wouldn't spare for you— and the reality once again sank into you that you were going to have a little human to love and care soon.
"You need to hold her like this..." the friendly instructor guided, positioning her hand on the back of the doll's head. "Be gentle when washing the head, and make sure not to scratch her—"
Now you were once again learning how to bathe the baby. It felt complicated at first, but after the fifth session, you were getting the hang of it.
Not the case with Suguru though. He seemed to be genuinely struggling.
"No, sir! You're going to drown her like that!" the instructor gasped in horror, pulling the baby doll out of your husband's grasp. "I'm sorry, but the way you're holding her is too risky! You have to lower her slowly—"
It brought a wide smile on your face. It was a rare sight to see him not being good at what he was doing, so seeing him totally confused like this was refreshing.
"This is... not quite as easy as it looks," he let out a long sigh, still trying to wash the doll's head as gently as he was instructed. "And I can't really tell when I'm being too rough or not."
"Just imagine it's a real baby, how soft you think you can be?" you advised, almost giggling. "Babies are delicate, sort of like... oh! You can think of them as sensitive as Gojo!"
Suguru gave you a look. "If it were a baby with Satoru's face... I might just flip and toss him away."
And yet despite having a hard time for it, Suguru was persistent in this practice. Because no way was he going to miss out bathing his baby.
month eight
"Suguru... we—" you said in one intake of breath, but unable to continue as he crashed his lips into yours.
With skilled hands, Suguru deftly maneuvered the inside of your maternity sleepwear, unclasping your bra and your breasts—now heavy and full of milk—spilling out.
You didn’t mean to drag him into this. You just made one comment about how you thought that he no longer seemed to desire you as much now and Suguru responded by pulling you into a searing kiss, as if to show you that he, in fact, very much still does.
He groped your left breast and your body spasmed as you let out a hitched moan, writhing under him.
“What part of you—” he drawled, eyes blazing with certain electricity, voice deep and low—and you couldn’t help getting even wetter down there. “—that you said I’m not interested in anymore, mama?”
You mewled, feeling so small under him. You could only whine as he stripped you out of your silken undergarments and let you lay there bare, ready for the taking.
In Suguru’s eyes, you were the most divine. The mother of his child couldn't be less than heavenly. Seeing you so swollen and so full, with everything that was his—made him harder than ever possible.
You would learn it the fast way as his lips latched on your neck, nimble fingers worked through your breasts, and then your pussy—
“Ride me,” he commanded, right after turning you into a wet mush three times and tasting your cum—which was still as sweet as ever. He helped you get up and sat on his hardened member, that slid so easily inside you as you let out a whimper.
Gone was your gentle husband—he always turned into another beast entirely in bed.
“Look at you, sitting so pretty for me like this,” Suguru remarked with a meaningful grin as he placed his hands on both sides of your enormous belly.
“Mmnghh!” you scrunched your eyes shut. The sounds you made were completely beyond your will by now. Everything was just overwhelming you. The way his thick cock sheathed itself inside you and made you feel full, and the way your baby twisted and turned inside you at the same time was mind-blowing— and you haven't even started moving yet.
You could already see it already, how much of a mess you were going to be in once this ended.
Suguru noticed the baby’s rambunctious movement too and lightly tapped the skin of your belly, maintaining his sly smile.
“Oh, baby… forgive your papa and mama and buckle up, yeah? It’s going to be a rough ride for a bit.”
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And soon, on one fateful morning, you were awoken by signs of labor, followed by your water breaking and full-blown contractions.
Suguru was beside you the entire time, worriedly hovering over you for support. He held you tight, providing comfort as you curled inwards each time intense contraction gripped your womb like a vice, hardening it into a rock-hard mass. Now is the real deal, he thought. Suddenly he was having doubts himself— he was going to become a parent. Both of you are.
Seeing you subjected to that much pain was almost unbearable, and even more so when your pained cries and screams echoed through the room as you brought your baby into the world, but then, then, suddenly—
His baby girl is here. She fit perfectly in his arms, round and snug in her blanket, with the softest black tufts of hair that she inherited from him. She cooed and mewled in her sleep—
—and Geto Suguru thought, nothing—absolutely nothing else mattered the very moment he laid eyes on his beautiful daughter.
"She is so tiny, so precious," Suguru whispered, his finger gently tracing the soft cheeks of the sleeping baby. Leaning on his shoulder, you could only sigh in awe, marveling at the sight of your husband and your new baby.
"Thank you," he turned to you then, eyes brimming with unshed tears and emotions. For giving me a another person to care for and love.
And you were at your happiest, finding yourself falling in love with your husband all over again, knowing well that he would cherish you with everything he had.
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Days and months following the birth of your daughter was hectic and eventful.
Nanako and Mimiko had been a really great help around the house, and they adored your baby daughter more than anything, always taking turns to entertain her and make her all giggly, which brought you to another level of happiness.
And most of all, Suguru had taken his new role as a dad very seriously. You remembered him visibly struggling at baby care classes, but now he was a master of diaper changing and baby bathing— and you wouldn't be surprised if he was even better than you by now.
"Suguru, how are you so great at this all of a sudden?" you genuinely wondered with a literal question mark as you watched him washing your daughter in a bubble bath, her laughter filling the room.
"Hard work and perseverance, love," he replied, his tone light but proud. And you snorted when he gave you a wink.
Your daughter had never been shy to cry her heart out at 3 in the morning too, and each time she did, whenever you were about to leave the bed, Suguru would gently hold you back with a raspy voice, murmuring, "I'll get her. Go back to sleep."
He was the best husband a woman could ask for. Throughout the five months of your postpartum, he always made sure that you stayed hydrated, had a lot of rest and consumed nutritious food to replenish your strength. He always took over the baby-rearing duties whenever possible. You were treated no less than a princess, and honestly you were ever so grateful.
And so this time, despite his willingness, you got up from the bed and went to the baby's room. And the sight there caught your heart—
"There, there..." Suguru's voice was thick with sleep, yet he rocked your daughter back and forth with gentle patience. "Do you want to change your blanket? Is it not comfy for you?"
Your heart softened, melted—perhaps even fluttered away with the wind, turning into mush. When you first discovered a year ago that you were going to have a baby, you could never have anticipated that this was the life you would find yourself in.
Suguru opted to switch the blanket for a new one, but as you watched him fold and unfold it several times, confusion evident on his face, you decided it was time to step in.
"Here, you do it like this," your sudden appearance startled him, as you gently took the fabric away from him and wrapped your fussy daughter in it. "Looks like I finally found something you're still not great at," you teased, a playful smile dancing on your lips.
He was about to usher you back to the bedroom until you said that. "Heh."
You loved this life, and he too wouldn't trade it for the world. In the quiet tranquility of dawn, after both of you had successfully put your baby back to sleep, you spoke, "Thank you... and I love you, Suguru."
But he thought— you shouldn't have to thank him for anything, because after all, Geto Suguru lives for two princesses in his life; you and his baby daughter.
And after this, all that was left was giving you the wedding celebration of your dreams, one that both of you had been setting aside for a while now.
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witchwyfe · 2 months
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karma is my boyfriend - rc
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pairing - (non-canon) Rafe Cameron x female reader
précis - a lil princess treatment from rafe :)
content/warnings - mentions of alcohol/alcohol consumption, fluff,
word count - 673
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"Rafe, Rafe!?" You're spinning around, looking for your boyfriend until suddenly you whirl around and bump into a broad chest.
"Hey!" You gasp, until you look up and see his face. "Oh! Hi baby!" You coo, reaching up to cup his cheeks. 
"Hi sweet girl." He smiles, running his thumb along your cheekbone. 
You greet him happily, leaning in to his touch. "Did you get my drink?" You wonder, suddenly remembering why he left you in the first place.
"Hmm, sure did." He nods, handing you an ice water rather than the vodka redbull you'd requested.
You don't seem to notice though, slipping the paper straw into your mouth and slurping it down happily.
"We gonna dance s'more?" You wonder, straw between your lips.
"We can't, baby," He says, smoothing a hand down the back of your head. "They're closing."
"Nooo!" You groan, throwing your head back.
"I know, I know," He soothes. "But we can go home and get some snacks and watch a show...?" He offers.
"Okay!" You're smiling once again, digging your fingers into his tee shirt.
"Finish your drink and we'll go home, kay?" 
You nod, bypassing the straw and tipping the rest of the water into your mouth, before handing your empty glass to Rafe.
You're not even that drunk, really just a little past tipsy but you're fine with letting Rafe handle everything and take care of you.
Suddenly his jacket is being draped over your shoulders, coupled with a soft kiss to the top of your head. 
"Thank you." You simper. You slide your arms into the sleeves and blink up at your boyfriend.
"Ready?"
"Ready."
You lead him out of the bar, arms shoved into the pockets of his jacket, while he has your little purse slung over his shoulder, your phone, his phone, and the keys all in one hand.
"How much farther?" You ask a few moments later, looking back at him.
"Not too much," He frowns looking out at the street. When the two of you arrived at the club, hours before, he'd had to park his car somewhat far due to the lack of space. "Your feet hurting, baby?"
You shrug a shoulder. "Yeah." You nod. "But it's just till the car then I'll take my shoes off."
"C'mere," He says, shoving both of your phones into his pocket.
"What?" You wonder, turning to give him a coy smile.
Your sweet boyfriend kneels down on the dirty sidewalk, taking your ankle into his hands so he can unbuckle your heel. You're flustered beyond words, heat rising on your cheeks while Rafe's rough palm softly works your foot out of your strappy shoe. 
"Stand on my foot babe, so I can take your other shoe off." He says, running his hand up your calf. 
Once both of your heels are dangling from his hand, he scoops you into his arms, bridal style.
"Are you sure, Rafe?" You wonder softly. "I feel bad, you don't--"
"You have nothing to feel bad about." He assures, lips at your temple. "Just let me take you to the car, okay gorgeous?"
"Okay." You hum happily, relaxing in his hold.
Your arms are sling around your neck and you have easy access to his neck if you strain a little--and you do--at least five times on the way to the car, so you can kiss his neck.
He pretends like he's not flustered by it, but you can see the rosy glow of his cheeks from the street lamps, the harsh light making him appear ethereal and you have to shut your eyes for a second to remember he's real.
You’re still in a fond trance when he uses one hand to open the car door and gently deposit you into the passenger seat. He buckles your seatbelt and tugs on it, before pressing a kiss to your temple. 
“Love you,” You croon, leaning back against the seat to look at him. 
“Love you so much more.” He promises. “C’mere angel, gimme a kiss.”
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© witchwyfe 2024. absolutely no reposting, translating, or modifying, even with credit.
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zriasstuff · 19 days
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Slytherin boys x reader (kinky)
lowk embarrassed because this is from my shortlived unhinged wattpad era, but here you go (i didn’t want this to just rot away in my google docs drafts)
Warnings: overstimulation, sexual content, no plot, mdni, yk the drill, not proof read
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Mattheo Riddle:
He enjoys it so much when you continue to suck him after he just came down your throat. His tip is always hypersensitive, and he turns into a groaning and swearing mess when you swirl your tongue around it. Although he tries to control it, the occasional whimper slips through too. The feeling of pain and pleasure combined makes his swollen dick twitch in your mouth and come extremely quickly.
“Fuck princess, only you can make me feel like this”
Tom Riddle:
He will almost always tie you up, either to the headboard, or arms behind your back. After he comes inside you, he knows that you’re still sensitive.
Since he himself is too, he’ll shove three fingers in you and watch as you squirm and whimper from the overwhelming sensation. Your insides are barely able to handle the immediate penetration and start to feel like they’re twisting. He’ll either tell you to beg for release or for him to stop. “Use your words, doll”/“You’re such a fucking slut for me, you deserve whatever I do to you”/“Beg for it you desperate slut”
You always come a minimum of three times, and he will make sure that you can barely walk afterwards. The control that he has over you just turns him on all the more.
Theodore Nott:
After you finish, he’ll tell you to finger yourself and to come once more. He enjoys having the power over you and you being obedient. Of course you do what he wants, painfully so and during it, he’ll control your speed and the amount of fingers. “Good girl, doing whatever I tell her to”/“Such a good girl for me”/“Come on, I know you can do it”
You also love all the praise, so you always make sure to put on a show for him.
After the pleasurable torture you put yourself through, he always gives you sweet aftercare.
Blaise Zabini:
He especially loves it when you ride him. Normally he wants both of you to come at the same time, but sometimes he tells you to control yourself a little after he came already. Then, after he came, he’ll tell you to keep going at his own expense, and watches you as you use him for your own pleasure. Every time you clench around him a moan slips out as he goes completely insane from the overstimulation on his already exhausted cock. It makes him feel incredibly turned on, to be at your mercy and to be used. Yes princess, use me all you want”/“All this is yours”/“Fuck you look hot on top of me”
Enzo Berkshire:
Overstimulation is one of his biggest kinks, so any way, shape or form of it is always extremely welcome. You make sure to do it to the point where he is completely out of breath and can only whimper under your control. After doing it, you sometimes wrap your hand around him and jerk him to come once more. At that point he’s already a moaning mess and his dick is consistently red and leaking. “Please can I cum?”/“You make me feel so good”
Instead of your hand, you also use your mouth sometimes. You deepthroat him for maximum pleasure and you feel his hips bucking and begging for renewed release.
Draco Malfoy:
For him it involves a bit of temp play too, but after both of you finish he’ll get a few ice cubes to drag out your post-orgasm pleasure. He’ll slowly drag them along your hardened nipples, all the way to your clit, holding the cube in place there. The sudden change in temperature always brings out uncontrollably loud moans from you and makes you squirm around. As soon as you move too much, he’ll shove one cube inside you, which causes you to melt into a whimpering mess. “Bad girls need to be punished”/“You look so pathetic, barely being able to stay still”
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helaelaemond · 6 months
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Honey on my Tongue - Aemond x reader
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Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x betrothed reader
Summary: You’ve been betrothed to Aemond, and he has shown little interest in you during your engagement. It hurts so much, for your heart yearns for him. You can't hold it back any longer
Slightly possessive Aemond. Suggestive situations.
Rating: T
Word count: 1.9k
"Would my lady care to dance?"
You look at the hand held out to you, and glance up at Prince Aegon. He grins down at you, and you take his offer graciously. "Thank you, my prince."
Next to him, the princess watches you curiously, and opposite her, your betrothed, Prince Aemond, keeps his one eye fixed on his brother.
"I think we have an audience," you say quietly, smiling.
"Just as I like," Aegon jokes. His hands are sure against you as you begin the simple dance, stepping in time to the music. At every opportunity, he presses himself closer than is proper. It should bother you - but at least you're getting attention from one prince.
"I do wonder about you sometimes," you tell him when steps bring you closer.
Walking in the correct steps around you, Aegon flashes you another grin. "I am on your mind often, then?"
You can't help but roll your eyes. "When you say things like that, a certain curiosity is sparked."
"And is that a curiosity you wish to be satisfied?"
The wine they serve in the Red Keep is stronger than you're used to, and with it brings a boldness that is also foreign. "Is curiosity the only thing you can satisfy?"
He laughs loudly. "Gods, I am sure you think about that often! Should your curiosity ever grow too great to bear, you come and find me."
"And what of your wife?"
Taking your hand, he glances over your shoulder at sweet Helaena, and shrugs. "What of her?"
"How often do you dishonour her?"
"Where there is no love, there is no dishonour. Perhaps you would do well to remember that."
You raise your eyebrow at his implication. There is mirth in his pretty eyes. "Do you think I am destined for an arrangement where love will not flourish?"
Again, Aegon holds you closer than is proper, and his lips are closer to your ear. "My brother is a warrior and a scholar, not a lover. How warm can steel be in a marriage bed?"
There is a tightness in your chest at his words. Perhaps he means only to be charming, to be suggestive, or perhaps he is deliberately cruel. But it is not the elder brother who gives you butterflies. You glance over at your betrothed, and the ice of his glare makes you shiver.
"My lady?" Aegon asks. You've stopped dancing.
"Ah. My apologies, my prince. I think the wine is stronger than I am used to."
"All the better," he answers quietly, and he winks at you. "Should you desire oblivion this night, come to my chambers."
Your face is close to his, and you smile up at him. "I think not, my prince. Perhaps your hand is more curious than I."
Why did you say that? What in the world made you say that? His jaw hangs open in shock at your boldness, and a blush spreads across your cheeks and down your neck. You return to the table where Aemond and Helaena are sat, and where their mother and grandfather talk together quietly.
"Please excuse me, my queen, my Lord Hand. I think I might retire for the night."
Queen Alicent looks at you, and then at Aegon behind you, her eyes wide and searching. "Are you well, my dear?"
"Just a slightly sore head, Your Grace. Nothing a good sleep will not remedy."
Her smile is tight. "Do not hesitate to send for the maester should you need him. Sleep well, my dear."
You curtsey, and turn to do the same in Helaena and Aemond's direction. "My princess, my prince."
Helaena smiles at you, and Aemond's face is as cold as before. You sweep past Aegon on your way to the door, and ignore how he tries to reach for your hand as you pass him.
Out in the corridor, you lean against the cool stone wall, and try to hold back your tears. The soldiers either side of the hall doors keep their gazes forward. You clamp your hand over your mouth in an attempt to stay silent. How much distaste looked at you with pierces you.
Since you met him, you have felt a draw to him. Sometimes, you have even managed to make him smile enough to laugh. Each time, the queen had looked so pleased. He doesn't seem to laugh often, but you bring that out in him. What a prize. And then, other times, he barely pays you any mind. He doesn't strike up conversations with you unless you speak first. He doesn't invite you to dance.
Those moments with him are precious to you. To him, they don't seem to matter in the slightest.
Meanwhile, Aegon throws himself at you like a whore. Perhaps, one day, you'll take him up on the offer - if for no other reason than to feel something. To close your eyes under his touch and imagine Aemond. Anything is better than this loneliness, surely.
You have to get out of here. As weak as your legs feel, you overcome the desire to crumple, and quickly, you begin walking down the corridor towards your rooms. Until you are married, your rooms are far from the royal quarters - quite a trek through the maze of the Red Keep. The doors to the hall where you have just had dinner with the royal family swing open and then closed, and footsteps join yours.
"Wait!" a command is barked. "My lady."
You ignore the order. Your betrothed is not yet your lord husband - he does not command you. Well, as a prince, he does. But the tears have begun to stream, hot and thick, from your eyes, and surely that will disgust him.
"My lady!"
Even Prince Aemond's harsh voice brings butterflies to your stomach. His gait is far longer than yours. You won't disgrace yourself by running like a child from him, and so he quickly catches up with you. As you walk quickly, he matches his steps to yours.
"You have no respect, do you, my lady?"
Furiously, you wipe your cheeks. "I have respect."
"Then stop when you are commanded."
"The command itself is not respectful. I wish to retire."
"And I wish to speak with you."
The wine. Blame the wine. "That is quite unusual."
He grabs your arm and pulls you into a shadowy alcove. "Do you deliberately wish to displease me?"
You try to wrench your arm from his hold but he's too strong. "There is nothing deliberate about it, but it seems it is the only feeling I can inspire in you."
He stares at you through the shadows, his purple eye searching, cold, and his jaw set. "And here I had thought you were intelligent."
"Do you often think of me?" Your voice is laced with accusation.
"More than you know."
"I know nothing."
"On that much, we agree."
You try to pull out of his hold again, but his slender hand is impossibly strong, a vice around your bicep. "What do you want from me, my prince?"
"Dignity."
"What, pray tell, have I done that you deem undignified?"
His lip curls slightly. He pulls you closer to him. "You danced with him."
"He is your brother - it would be shameful to decline his invitation."
"And what of his other invitations? Do you accept those?"
Your stomach drops, and your eyes widen. "I know not of what you speak," you lie.
"He is a lecherous beast, not worthy of my sister, not worthy of-"
"Of whom?" you challenge.
His lips pull back over his teeth for a moment. The dim light makes shadows sharp across his angular face. Gods, he is beautiful. Even in rage, he is beautiful. And you do not fear him. You only fear his indifference. "You are my betrothed. I expect you to act as such."
"And how ought you act as my betrothed?"
"As I see fit," Aemond says, each word slow and deliberate.
"What of my expectations?"
He glares down at you. Gods, he's tall. It makes you weak. "What expectations do you have?"
"That my betrothed at least pretends to like my company."
That makes his spine straighten. The hand on your arm loosens slightly, and to your surprise, it trails up your shoulder and lightly touches your throat. It's impossible to breathe under such sudden tenderness. You can feel the callouses on his palm. "Pretend?" he echoes.
You nod stiffly. "I do not need to pretend. You know I enjoy your company. Too much, I think."
"Too much?"
"Don't. Do not do that."
Aemond's eye watches as his finger touches the base of your throat in the soft spot between your collarbones. It's where he gently feels your pulse. It's so quick. "Do what?"
"Do not pretend that you are unaware of my feelings."
"There is no pretence. I know not."
You push his hand away, although the touch has made your skin rise in goosebumps from your thighs to your scalp. "Then you are as blind with one eye than with none."
He snorts humourlessly. "Elucidate for me."
The wine, the wine, the wine. You shove his chest and he stumbles back, caught unawares. "I like you a great deal. And it agonises me that you do not feel the same. It is a humiliation!"
Swallowing thickly, Aemond's expression softens. "Aegon makes you laugh. I do not."
"Aegon is a fool, and makes me laugh as such. But I do not... I do not care... like I do... for..."
"You care?"
You could hit him, you really could. "If you could not tell by now, then we shall never make one another happy."
When you turn away to walk off, he catches you again, and suddenly he pulls you tight against his tall frame, and his arms are around your back, and his face is close to yours. "You make me laugh, my lady."
"I make many people laugh. You could make me a royal fool."
"Do not say such things," he hisses, anger flashing again. "You're my betrothed. Mine."
"I do not want to belong to you like a book or sword."
"Yes, you do." He leans down and whispers against your ear. "You are mine, and mine alone. I am sorry that you did not know that until now."
"Do you say this out of pride or love?" you ask, more bravery in your voice than you truly feel.
"My love is proud. And so too is my betrothed."
"Pride does not drive me, my prince. Only love."
"Do you love me?" he murmurs. It is good he is too close to look at. If he faced you, you would not have the strength to answer.
"I do."
"Not Aegon?"
"No."
He kisses under your ear. You whimper. His voice is so silky. "You will not dance with him again."
"Will I dance with you?"
"Every night until we are wed."
As he winds his arms tighter around you, you press a hand into his hair. "And once we are married?"
"We shall have no time for dancing. I shall have no mind for anything but possessing you."
"You want to possess me?"
He kisses your skin. "Entirely. For already, I am yours."
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2hightocare · 3 months
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PRINCESS TREATMENT ✷
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“In a world of boys’ he’s a gentleman” mini series—
Synopsis: Jungkook simply does everything to make you happy..
Genre: established relationship!
Warnings: pure fucking fluff… (seriously makes me wanna jump in oncoming traffic) jungkook is a bright green flag, he’s love language is “acts of service” (can be read as a standalone but I recommend reading the first part)
a/n: we all deserve oc and jungkooks kinda love.. I’m turning this into a mini series since a lot of people enjoyed it🤍
for @ohsweetmimosa !!
Falling in love was always something that you wanted, your face has always been shoved into pages of books, wondering when it would be your turn to experience that type of love. Your mom would always tell you that your expectations were too high and that no man could ever be as perfect as a fictional man.
Until you met him.
There were no words in the dictionary to describe him. No words to describe how beautifully his eyes would sparkle whenever he would tell you he loves you, the way his thumb would caress you whenever you would hold hands, or the way he would kiss away the tears that would escape your eyes.
You a hundred percent believed God made men, and sent Jungkook as an apology.
“When did you learn to braid hair…?” You curiously ask, with a slight hint of jealousy in your tone, making Jungkook laugh behind you as his fingers thread the three strands of hair repeatedly. “Watched a YouTube tutorial,” he chuckles, trying so hard not to pull your hair.
“What for..?” You stare at the mirror in front of you with the goofiest smile plastered on your face, watching your boyfriend with no shirt, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips as he carefully braids your hair with his lip between his teeth.
“You always braid your hair but then complain your arms hurt from keeping them up for so long soo… why not make myself useful.” He shrugs like it’s not a big deal.
Your heart did a cartwheel, might have exploded in your chest from how fast it’s beating. But nothing new. You were so accustomed to the feeling of butterflies flying in your stomach whenever he would do or say something to you.
He drops the most beautiful phrases anyone has ever told you so casually, like it was normal. But that was your normal since you met him.
You would hear your friends talk shit about their boyfriends, how they did something or what they didn’t do, but you really just never had anything bad to say about Jungkook. He basically took "Princess treatment" to another level.
You never had to ask for flowers, never had to pull out a chair, never had to open a door, never had to enter a car freezing... because Jungkook being Jungkook went out twenty minutes earlier to turn on the heater before you would get in.
Never had to worry about leaving your wallet at home when the only thing in your bag is lip gloss. Never having to turn on your brain whenever he was around.
Locked doors? Where are the house keys? Did you leave your curler on? Jungkook got it.
“That’s so much better than mine,” you point to his ice cream as your eyes widen from how the creamy flavors melt into your mouth. “So bo—mb!” You muffle out from the mouthful of ice cream shoved into your mouth.
“Let me try yours,” he opens his mouth, waiting for you to send a spoonful of your cookies and cream into his mouth. “Here comes the airplane! Brrr,” you try making airplane noises as your hand does a weird twirl before inserting the spoonful of ice cream into your smiley boyfriend.
“Mhm,” he nods his head, humming loudly, watching you smile at him.
“I actually like yours better, baby. Let’s trade?” Jungkook hands you his small cup of ice cream as you nod happily, while you hand him yours.
Jungkook watches with the biggest smile on his face while inserting another spoonful of the creamy content as he watches you eating the new ice cream flavor enthusiastically, hearing you rave about the new book you have just finished reading and how dumb the main character is.
Jungkook's heart aches, sizing double its size, beating hard in his chest. Your cheeks and nose are rosy from the cold outside the car. You both didn’t care about eating ice cream in the middle of cold December; you guys took it as a challenge on who would get sick first.
He laughs at the lighthearted jokes you threw at him, while you take another big spoonful of the chunky ice cream that was his not so long ago.
Little did you know that he really didn’t like your ice cream flavor.
When Jungkook first met you, he knew from the start that he was a goner. The way you smile at him, how your eyes will have a small glint on them whenever you look at him, or the way you would scrunch your nose if you found something funny or cute.
It took him by surprise when you pulled the move on him, thinking you found something disgusting when you first did it.
“I will literally eat you right now!” You scrunch your nose at your smiling boyfriend who’s slightly kneeling for you to be able to see your initial carved into his haircut.
“So that means you like it?” Jungkook stands up and spins to face you. You stare up at him, his dimples on full display looking down at you with your cute outfit he helped you pick on FaceTime.
“I fucking love it baby!! I have the urge to crawl inside your skin,” you bite your lip containing the laugh you’re trying hard to contain, failing miserably when Jungkook raises an eyebrow with a smirk on his face. “That’s… cute,” he replies before kissing off the little nose scrunch he loves so much off your face.
“Is that like your ‘cutie mark’?” You quip, your arms wrapping themselves around his shoulders. “Cutie mark?” He asks, a hint of interest in his voice while he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you closer to him.
“You never watched My Little Pony?” You fake gasp, eyes widening.
“I’ve heard of it, but me sitting down to watch ponies with superpowers… yeah, no.” Jungkook squeezes your waist as he explains.
“You suck,” you roll your eyes playfully sticking your tongue out before entangling yourself off his arms and making your way to the couch.
“Come big baby, we are watching My Little Pony.” You pat the empty couch space beside you.
He watched every season... all nine seasons with you.
Jungkook just wanted to make your life easier; you were always known for being “Miss Independent” in your family and amongst your friends, but here you were letting a man put your heels on for you.
“Too loose or…?” Your boyfriend looks up to you from his kneeling-down position in front of you.
“You look really good on your knees, sir.” You say instead with a sly smirk on your face, ignoring his question. “Pshh,” he rolls his eyes as he chuckles, tying a bow on your lace-up heels.
“Since when do you not flirt back?” You pout watching your boyfriend repeat his actions on the other foot. “Since we are late... and can’t be any more late.” He looks up with a mischievous grin on his face.
“Psh, okay.” You blow out in defeat as your boyfriend chuckles underneath you.
“Come on princess, let's go!” He stands up, giving you a hand for you to stand up off the bed.
The long rides to your guys' destinations were your favorite; Jungkook had given you the “passenger princess” award ever since you set foot in his car. He even installed a light-up mirror on your sun visor whenever you needed to fix your hair or makeup in the car.
Jungkook would listen to your little playlists. He still remembers when you explained to him that each playlist has a different emotion, which made him laugh. Now, anytime you played a song, he would ask you what emotion you were feeling right now.
“What emotion are you feeling right now baby?” He squeezes your thigh as he stops at a red light. The reddish hue illuminates your guy's face. “In love,” you turn your head to the side, staring at your boyfriend who’s already looking at you.
His eyes twinkle as he stares at you, a big smile adorns his face. As you mirror his actions before leaning in and giving him a kiss on the lips, his eyelids immediately flutter close.
“‘Cause I got my mind on you... I’ve got my mind on you.”
Plays softly from the car speaker; you smile into the kiss. “I love you.” He whispers softly. “I love you.” You whisper back.
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classyrbf · 4 months
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BABY DADDY DABI!
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SYNOPSIS...headcanons about what baby daddy dabi would be like to you and your child
WARNINGS...dabi x fem!reader, none really, dabi being a little sexual towards you, not proofread
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
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baby daddy dabi!who has the best relationship with his little girl. people always think he’d be a deadbeat father but he truly wants to be a good dad unlike his own
baby daddy dabi!who randomly visits your once shared apartment without even telling you. you get scared shitless when the door randomly opens but sees it’s just him, a smug smirk on his face
baby daddy dabi!who completely turned your daughter into a daddy’s girl. your daughter loves her father, always asking when he’ll be coming home next
baby daddy dabi!who calls his little girl ‘princess’ and ‘shithead’ interchangeably. giving her little small kisses on the cheek while she sits in his lap and shows him the new dolls you got her
baby daddy dabi!who puts your daughter to sleep and comes bothering you, slipping into your bed and holding your waist just whispering “let us be a family again”
baby daddy dabi!who spoils his little girl. she wants a new doll? dabi’s got her. she wants ice cream? dabi is telling her to pick out her favorite flavor. she wants those cute sparkly shoes? dabi’s already got the money in his hand
baby daddy dabi!who is still very touchy with you, hugging you from behind and running his fingertips over any place on you. he can’t help it, you’re still so attractive to him even if you two have been separated for a while
baby daddy dabi!who tricks your daughter into asking you if he can stay the night. “mommy can daddy stay please? it’s really cold out and he said he’ll sleep on the couch.” all while she’s hold his scarred hand in her little one, just standing in your doorway looking at with the sweetest eyes until you give in
baby daddy dabi!who ends up falling asleep on your couch, his daughter laying on top of him with her favorite stuffed animal and face smushed up against his chest. you can’t deny how much they look alike in this very moment
baby daddy dabi!who brings your daughter to school every morning before coming back to your place. why? you had no clue. he claims it’s good for co-parenting. you knew he was lying out of his ass, he just wanted to be around you
baby daddy dabi!who jokes with you about making another kid, but deep down he is not joking like at all. you’re such a good mom to your little girl he just can’t get enough of you
baby daddy dabi!who always finds a way to compliment you saying something like, “now I know where our daughter gets her good style from” just to butter you up. and it works cause your smiling like a kid in a candy store
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perlelune · 27 days
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Sippy Cup | Coriolanus Snow
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The war never left you, so you find a way to cope. One where you never lost your childhood. One where the world is still pure and safe. And Coriolanus can't resist that innocence.
Warnings: NON-CON, Dd/lg, Little!Reader, Innocence Kink, Mentions of war, PTSD, Manipulation, Age Regression, Capitol!Reader
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
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The first time Coriolanus catches you and Tigris playing Tea Party, you expect to find disdain in his eyes, mockery perhaps. Instead, another emotion blooms in the blond’s cerulean gaze. Curiosity.
It happens on a sweltering Tuesday afternoon, the sizzling summer rays spilling through the half-drawn lace curtains of your bedroom. As usual, you and Tigris are sitting across from each other with Teddy occupying the third seat between the two of you. He is being his sassy self, of course, complaining about the sitting arrangement and wanting more tea cakes on his plate. You scold him, reminding him what happened the last time he went on a sugar high. Teddy’s eyes are much bigger than his stomach.
Nervousness slithered through you when you confessed your secret to Tigris. You didn’t want to, initially. You missed several days of class at the Capitol University in a row and your best friend grew concerned enough to show up at your house unannounced. She found you right here, playing with your dolls and chatting with your bear.
You explained to her that the pressure to be big is too much sometimes, that instead of shaking and crying on the floor of the girls’ bathroom, you come here. Once you enter your bedroom, every single woe vanishes. Your head is empty and your heart is full. You’re a carefree, happy little girl once more.
To your surprise, there isn’t a shred of judgment in Tigris’ eyes when you tell her. She never utters a single bad word about the neat rows of dolls and plushies adorning your shelves, your soft pink walls, your frilly dresses or the ribbons in your hair. When you reveal your little secret to her, what you did to ward off the nightmares, she simply listens, hands on her chest as her blue eyes fill with tears. You tell her the pink helps erase the red. The same red that splattered across the pavement when your parents and brother’s bodies hit the ground during the First Rebellion. You were still holding your brother’s hand when he fell. You held it even as his palm grew cold and stiff against yours. If it weren’t for the Snow cousins prying your weeping form off his that day, you might have stayed there and met the same fate.
Tigris gave you the warmest hug. Then she asked if she could play with you, if that’d cheer you up. You were ecstatic. Since that day, Tigris would play dolls with you, attend your tea parties and even fill out your coloring books with you sometimes. You never have to pretend with Tigris. Don’t have to pretend to be a big girl. Or speak long, complicated words. Or care about big, important things. You can just be a princess in her pink castle.
It’s why ice scatters in your veins when Coriolanus watches you and Tigris from the ajar door. 
“You weren’t coming home, so I came to check on you,” he mumbles as he takes in the scene before him. Your face heats beneath Coriolanus’ wide-eyed stare.
Alarm flickers over Tigris’ face.
“You need to learn to knock, Coryo,” she chides. She whispers a gentle apology to you before getting to her feet. She nudges Coriolanus outside of your bedroom and they head to the bottom of the stairs.
Eavesdropping is bad; you know it. Good little girls don’t peep or listen through the door. But you can’t help it. Heart in your throat, you try to hear the whispered conversation between Tigris and her cousin. You only catch snippets. Your best friend’s voice is a little harsher than you’re used to, like she’s a bit upset.
Don’t you dare make fun of her.
She needs this, Coryo.
Stark blue eyes lock with yours from afar. Your heart slams against your ribcage. You hastily shove the door closed, rushing back to your pink wooden chair.
You pick up Teddy and cradle him against your chest. “Coryo is our friend,” you remind him. “He wouldn’t make fun of us.” Teddy is uncharacteristically quiet. You feel tears rush to your eyes, your bear’s doubts starting to creep into you.
“Do you mind if I join you?”
The deep voice rolling over you yanks you from your thoughts. Your head whips up. Coriolanus’ hunkering at your side, his head tilted in inquiry. You glance past his shoulder. Tigris is standing behind her cousin with her arms folded, her wary gaze glued to his form. 
“Join us?” you repeat, dazed by his question. 
The corners of the blond’s lips lift. 
“Yes, it’s a tea party, isn’t it?”
Your gaze bulges. You never expected to hear such words spilling from Coryo’s mouth. He’s always so serious, so very serious, having no time for games. He’s been like that for as long as you can remember.
You wipe your tears and sniffle. 
A little defensive, you clutch fistfuls of your pink dress.
“Tea parties aren’t for boys. They’re for princesses,” you state curtly.
Coriolanus’ expression softens as he considers you.
“Then I could be a knight, from a visiting kingdom.” You purse your lips, brows knitting. The blond’s warm breath caresses your ear as he bends over you, “Knights protect princesses.”
You mull it over. It’d be nice to have someone watch over you and Teddy, make sure no rebels storm your castle walls, paint your heart-covered walls red. You pluck your teddy bear from his stool and question him.
“What do you think, Teddy?” A very serious conversation silently occurs between you and your plushie. After a few minutes, you hum and nod, agreeing with him. Your eyes rise to meet Coryo’s. “Teddy says he’s okay with it.”
A bright smile unfurls on Coriolanus’ handsome face.
“That’s wonderful, princess.”
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Over time, Coriolanus’ visits grow more frequent. He even gets into the habit of bringing you gifts, like new plushies and sugary treats. Despite your reluctance to include him because he’s a boy and boys can be mean and smelly, the time you spend with him is always a highlight in your day. Coryo is never smelly; he smells like the flowers in the Grandma’am’s garden and fresh pine. And he’s not mean. He never fails to be sweet to you, bowing to you and kissing your hand like a knight would, and always embracing every one of your games.
He becomes a fixture in your weekly tea parties, often accompanying Tigris or showing up when she’s too busy at the workshop to make it. 
Somehow he always finds time for you, even if you know he’s so busy with important, grown-up things. You’re delighted. While playing alone is fun, your imagination knowing no bounds, it’s always better with a friend.
Today is one of these days. It’s just you and Coryo hanging out in your bedroom. He spends most of the evening handing you crayons while you color in the new picture book he got you, a comfortable silence swaddling the both of you. Coryo appears content just observing you, a peaceful smile hovering on his lips. The book is full of beautiful drawings of birds and landscapes. You never had one this nice so you were beyond thrilled to start coloring it.
When the sky gets darker outside your window, you sit up. You turn to Coryo.
“It’s getting late. I guess it’s time for the tea party to end. It was lovely of you to visit us, Sir Coriolanus and we hope-”
“Tigris said you were having nightmares,” he interrupts.
You go still, the crayons between your fingers clattering to the floor.
“That was a secret,” you mutter, your chest clenching. Why would Tigris tell him that? She’s your best friend. She should keep all your secrets forever. As you simmer in disappointment, Coryo places his fingers under your chin and lifts it. Your tearful gaze meets his.
“You can trust me too, princess,” he assures softly.
As you drown in his gaze, you get lost in a memory. Suddenly all the pink in your room is gone. Unmoving bodies. Gaping mouths. Hollow eyes. 
Bright red ribbons flowing from their mouths. Crimson confetti popping from their bellies. 
Everything in your vision becomes red.
You curl against the edge of the bed and close your eyes.
Hands on the side of your head, you take a deep breath. You slowly open your eyes again. You focus on the plushies sitting on your shelves until the somber clouds over your thoughts turn into cotton candy again.
You coax a shaky smile onto your lips. 
“I don’t want to talk about it. Can we just play?”
He chuckles.
“It’s too late for games, princess. Isn’t it your bedtime by now?”
“Then I guess you should go, Coryo,” you say, resting your chin against your knees.
Coriolanus pauses, studying you for a while.
His next words are barely above a whisper.
“Or I could stay.” His large hand drapes over yours, covering your knees. “I could sleep in your bed with you.”
Shocked that he’d even suggest such a thing, you gasp.
“Boys and girls don’t sleep in the same bed,” you mumble.
He cocks his head, amusement swimming in his blue eyes.
“But I’m not a boy. I’m your knight, remember?”
Happiness flows through you with this reminder.
“Yes, you are,” you chime.
His fingers slowly drag over your joined knees.
“Actually…I could be more than your knight, princess.” His gaze locks with yours. “I could be your daddy.”
Your forehead creases, confusion mounting inside you.
“My daddy?”
His lips twist in an uneven smile.
“Yes…daddies protect their little girls. Just like knights.” His fingers drift down to your ankle, the warmth of his touch seeping through your thigh high socks. “They don’t let anyone hurt their pretty princesses. And they keep the nightmares and monsters away at night.”
Amazement colors your tone with this knowledge.
“Really?”
“Of course.” He cups your cheek. “I could sleep in the bed with you and keep my little girl safe that way.”
“I could even tell you a bedtime story.”
Your eyes light up. “A bedtime story?” 
He fondles your cheek, his expression softening.
“Of course, anything for my sweet little girl.”
You climb into bed, your entire body shaking in anticipation. Coryo removes his shoes. He picks a book from your shelf and joins you on the bed. He gets under the covers with you and tucks your head against his chest. He opens the book to the first page, his tone patient and clear as he begins to read the tale to you. Your lids sag as you relax against Coryo, his fingers absently stroking the top of your head. You get engrossed in the story of a princess who gets lost on her way home. Lulled by his deep voice, you sink into sleep before the story’s even done.
For the first time in a while, a dreamless slumber welcomes you that night.
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When Coryo’s tall frame slips through your door that day, hope twitches inside your chest. 
Tigris promised she’ll come today. She’s canceled on you so much lately and expressed how awful she feels about it, so you have been looking forward to seeing her again.
For some reason, work has been exceptionally busy these last few weeks. And while you understand how important work is to your best friend, you’ve missed her so much.
However as he clicks the door shut and you realize no one’s trailing behind Coriolanus, your shoulders slump.
The faint hope you harbored withers away.
“I thought Tigris was coming today.”
Coriolanus sighs as he inches towards you.
“I know princess…” He plucks your hands from your lap. “But there was an emergency at the dress shop. It’s gonna keep her the whole night.” His lips graze the back of your hand. “I’m sorry, she said it was more important than being here.”
Your mouth flies open.
More important than being here? Coryo’s words drive a dagger through your chest, his sympathetic expression twisting it even more.
You lower your head. Tigris has had a lot of emergencies lately. You hardly spend any time together anymore. Part of you even wonders if maybe she’s sick of playing with you. After all, Tigris is a big girl with many things to do. You know she dreams of becoming a stylist and that’s likely more important than silly little girl games. You swallow the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. 
Coryo cradles your face.
“But daddy’s here to play with you.”
Your voice trembles as you quell a sob. You look at him, warmth flowing through your chest. Your daddy’s right. You have no reason to be sad. After all, he’s with you. Just like he’s held you against him so many times in the last few weeks, reading you stories to help you fall asleep, and cheering you up whenever you felt sad, you can always count on your daddy.
“That’s amazing, daddy.”
His eyes seem to flare with an idea.
“Actually I thought we could play a new game today.”
Curiosity widens your gaze. “A new game?”
Coryo pulls you closer, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.
“Yes.” He pauses before revealing slowly, “It’s called ‘Mommy and Daddy’, princess.”
“Mommy and daddy?” Your brows squeeze together in confusion. “Tigris and I have never played that before.”
Coryo licks his lips, his gaze running over you.
“It’s a special game between daddies and their little girls,” he explains, his tone lower than before.
“I don’t know it.”
A deep chuckle parts from his lips. You frown, not understanding what’s so funny.
“I know you don’t, sweet girl,” he says. fondling your cheek. A tilted smile blooms on his lips. “It’s okay because Daddy can teach you all about it.”
You feel nothing but complete trust as Coriolanus nudges you backwards until your knees hit the edge of the bed. You look up at him, a mix of confusion and curiosity written on your features. He smiles at you, sinking to his knees to remove your shoes. 
You watch him do it, wondering why they need to be off for the game. Your daddy’s palm lingers on the sole of your socked feet, his finger traveling upward, dragging over your ankle. 
His eyes look a little weird now, though you can’t explain in what way. You frown, the air around you growing colder.
Did you forget to close the window?
He crawls over you, pushing you down on the mattress. Coriolanus’ smell surrounds you and your nose twitches. You’re not used to being so close to him. You can make out every detail of his handsome face, trace every one of his long lashes, and distinguish every line on his face.
He scrutinizes your form beneath him, one hand beside our head while the other sweeps under your thigh. 
“What’s going on, daddy?” you ask, your voice trembling. 
“It’s a game that’s easier played on a bed, princess.”
You give a nod of understanding. He strokes the side of your face, pride lacing his tone.
“Such a good girl.”
He bends his head against your shoulder. You hold your breath, a little uncomfortable for a reason you can’t place. Daddy drops a kiss at the base of your neck. Goosebumps spark on your skin. His kisses go lower and lower, his large hands following the same path. 
When his fingers land between your legs, your eyes go wide with confusion.
“D-Daddy, what are you doing?”
A soft gasp leaves you as he begins to rub your cotton panties. 
“There’s a special place where daddies touch mommies,” he whispers. He clutches at your center and the breath dies your throat. Your body gets hotter, your belly tightening as he pinches you in a particular spot. Coriolanus’ fingers go up and down. It both hurts and doesn’t hurt. Twisting and pulsing in a foreign way the more he touches you. Overwhelmed by the feeling spreading all the way to your toes, you cling to his arms for support.
His blue eyes are glued to your squirming frame as he traces circles around that little spot that leaves you feeling strange.
The hand besides your head moves, drifting to unbutton his pants. Your heart skips a beat as a part of your daddy you never saw is revealed to you. It’s big and red at the tip. You tense, heat rushing through you as you look away.
“Look at me, princess,” he instructs, drawing your quivering chin back to him. He presses himself against your little girl parts. Whimpers spill from your mouth as he humps you through your clothes, pinning you underneath his frame.
His hot breath rolls over your face.
“How does it feel?”
“A little weird.” You shake your head, a surge of tears threatening to break free beneath your lashes. “I don’t know if I like this game…”
He frames your chin, squeezing more tightly than usual. “Do you want to make daddy happy, princess?”
“Y-Yes,” you stammer.
His thumb skims over your shuddering mouth.
“This is daddy’s favorite game to play with his princess.”
“Okay…”
Your mood sinks. You’re liking the game less and less the longer it goes on, but you don’t want to disappoint your daddy who held you almost every night to chase away the bad dreams. His daddy thing gets heavier and bigger against your belly while he moves. He grunts, his throat rippling. The sensation is almost too much to bear, your vision swaying as he stimulates your little girl parts.
Daddy’s game is a little strange, you’re starting to think, and it’s making you feel weird things. Weird, tingly things. And it makes the room spin like a carousel. 
You try to close your legs, stop the wave of strange, uncomfortable feelings…But Coriolanus wedges himself between your thighs, forcing your knees apart.
“Daddy…”
His brow twitches. “Shh, let daddy take care of you, princess.” His lips cover yours, smothering all your doubts. You feel bruises form on your mouth and cheek as he kisses you harshly. Lips trailing down to your neck, he pulls your panties down your legs. 
There’s barely time for you to register the cool air hitting your bare center before he’s starting to push himself in. The pain strikes you mute at first. Just the tip of him is so much. Too much. It feels like you will break any second. Coriolanus pants above you, straining to fit as you squeeze around him, fear and pain throbbing through you.
“It’s okay, princess. Daddy’s got you,” he mutters.
When he sinks even further, a broken sob leaves you. A fire burns you from inside, amplifying every time your daddy moves ever-so-slightly.
Tears fill your eyes to the brim. 
“I don’t like this game, daddy. Can we stop playing, please?” 
He wipes your tears with soft kisses. The words pouring into your ear, while uttered sweetly, are firm. “The game’s not over until daddy says it is, princess.”
Your breath falters as he goes all the way inside. He hums deep in his throat, draping himself over your shaking frame. Your head lolls to the side, your eyes wandering to your dolls and stuffed animals. The abrupt urge to poke their eyes out so they don’t have to see any of this blooms inside you. Tears stream down your cheeks as Coriolanus thrusts inside you. His throaty moans mingle with the slapping of skin against skin. The noises your daddy makes get louder every time he slams into you. He spreads your thighs more, pushing deeper. When you tighten around him, your daddy moans, his eyes rolling back. 
“You’re squeezing daddy’s cock so well, princess,” he lauds, knuckles dragging over your temple.
He goes faster, hitting sensitive parts that draw sharp noises of agony from you. Every part of your body is wide awake with pain and discomfort. Numb with a plethora of confusing, terrifying emotions, you don’t move as his hips snap into yours relentlessly. 
The game lasts for hours, it seems. You’re thankful when daddy appears done, his movements getting sloppier as his pace slows.
As his hips stutter, his hand wraps around your jaw. 
“Daddy’s going to come inside you, so you have to say ‘thank you’”
A hoarse sigh leaves him, his lashes fluttering as he empties himself inside you. You shudder.
“Thank you for coming inside me, daddy,” you mechanically repeat. Bile rises in your throat as the excess gathers around your folds, pooling over your once pristine white sheets. 
His sweaty form folds over yours. Another tear slides down your cheek.
“Such a good girl for me.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck and coos, “We’re going to play so many fun games together, princess.”
Your stomach curls with dread at that promise.
801 notes · View notes
kitten4sannie · 4 months
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ᴄʀᴀᴢʏ ꜰᴏʀᴍ | ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ
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pairing: dilf! san x boytoy! wooyoung x fem! reader
genre: smut <3
summary: you search for a rebound at your local club after a break up. the club owner and his favorite boyfriend are there to satisfy your needs.
w.c: 3.3k
warnings: daddy dom kinda switch! san (almost chewed my fingers off writing him like this trust), dom! wooyoung (he’s kinda passively there when it comes to reader but i promise he’ll be more prominent in part two~), subby good girl! reader, woosan, alcohol use, reader is not drunk but sufficiently tipsy, daddy kink, dirty talk, pet names (angel, princess, pretty girl, etc), teasing, possessiveness, praise, voyeurism/exhibitionism, body worship, grinding, kissing, marking, fingering, double? blowjob? idk (san gets head while giving it too oop-) , deep-throating, slight hair pulling, snowballing
a/n: hii guess who’s back from the dead just in time for the cb? <3 and i brought a present ~ a naughty one hehe :3 the inspo came from those pics above bc they look so expensive and cunty and so yummy ugh and THEN san decided to strip at the mama awards and now i’m ILL and ready to howl at the moon anyways !!this is out of pocket like usual and i put my whole kitty into it okayyy so i hope you enjoy and pls lemme know if you’re excited for part two >< <33
song rec: incubator by ph-1, gun by doja cat, wine pon you also by doja cat feat. konshens (every time i hear the last part it reminds me of san’s dance cover hnnnnhgg)
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“Girl, you better slow down on that drink,” the woman sitting beside you at the bar warned, resting her forearms down on the cool surface of the sleek marble countertop, continuing to watch you slurp down a long island iced tea. “I’m not about to hold your hair up for you later.”
“Can you leave me alone? I’m grieving over here, god,” you whined to her with your straw still in between your pouting, quivering lips, your eyes brimming with tears. “And for the record, he broke up with me over text. Text.”
She shook her head. “You are not about to cry over a man right now.”
You pushed your empty glass away, before dramatically pointing a finger into your chest, causing the strap of your dress to droop down your shoulder a bit. “You’re right, but I can still be a mess if I want to, thank you very much.”
“Well, you’re certainly achieving that,” she stated, idly sipping on her own drink, looking you up and down until you felt like you had to prove something to her.
“Okay, fuck this,” you muttered, pushing yourself off of the barstool and pulling your dress down where it was beginning to rise up near your ass, sniffling a bit.
“Where are you going?”
Pulling out a small tube from the v-neck of your dress to apply a fresh coat of lip gloss, you smacked your lips together and motioned your hand to the vast amounts of sweaty, drunk people grinding on each other on the opposite side of the club. “I’m gonna get some rebound dick. Don’t wait up.”
The woman smiled to herself as she watched you disappear into the sea of people, still just sipping on her drink. Little did you know, someone else was already waiting for you in that crowd. And they came as a package deal.
-
“I want her, Sannie,” Wooyoung chimed to the older man that was sitting beside him on the comfy VIP couch, the man’s arm wrapped protectively around his waist. The younger man took a finger off of his fruity drink to point at the woman that was feeling herself up with her body pressed to an unnamed man on the dance floor across from them, charmed by the unbothered, almost melancholic expression imprinted on her flushed face, like she was just waiting for someone like them to take care of her, to make her pretty face flush for a different reason.
San followed Wooyoung’s manicured nail until it led to the sight of you, a few wrinkles etched into his skin near his lips and where his eyes creased with amusement. “Mmm. Shall I leave you to your own devices then? Daddy can watch you seduce that pretty girl from here, can’t he?” His smile deepened when Wooyoung shifted beside him, his thigh pressing into San’s larger one, knowing his plaything was already getting hot under the collar. San held Wooyoung’s chin between his ringed fingers, leaning in to murmur, “And you’ll be a good boy and bring her to me once you get her nice and wet, won’t you?”
“Yes, Daddy,” Wooyoung replied breathily, barely getting his words out when the man pulled him in for a heated kiss.
Just when Wooyoung began to lean into him, his hands resting on San’s leather-bound chest, the older man broke the kiss, wiping the other’s saliva from his mouth. “Get going, naughty boy.”
Despite being dizzy with need, Wooyoung nodded, obediently nodding as he stood up from the couch. He fixed his hair and checked his makeup, before heading into the sea of sweaty, lust-drunk people to find you.
You were almost too busy rolling your body along to the hypnotic flow of the house track that was bumping through the speakers around you to notice the warmth of someone else pulling you near him, his hand sliding onto the small of your back and his lips against your ear, goosebumps forming across your skin.
“Can I steal you away?” Wooyoung whispered in a low voice, smiling at your slow nod, your eyes practically dilating at the sight of him. You didn’t know angels frequented night clubs. That was news to you. The both of you silently watched as his veiny hands slowly slid onto your hips, his fingers squeezing into them just enough to make you shiver.
He brought you back against him with a gentleness that made you a little weak in the knees, moving his hips against yours, guiding you against his body to the pulsing beats of the song.
Desperate to be needed by the obscenely attractive stranger, you took it upon yourself to grind back against him, feeling his cock harden against your ass through his satin pants.
“Fuck, baby, don’t you know what’ll happen if you keep doing that?” he exhaled into your ear, his fingers moving down slightly to squeeze your thighs.
You turned your head back to meet his searing gaze, licking your lips, your eyelids lowering. “What’s going to happen?”
Glancing to the side to make sure San was still watching, which he was, with a hand clutching his upper thigh, Wooyoung looked back to you, his hands moving further outwards to feel the sides of your ass, encouraging your dress to move up little by little, replying, “We’ll have to play with you, angel.”
“Yes, please,” you breathed out, resting your head against his chest, allowing him to feel up your body, his hands groping along your abdomen to your tits, the cogs inside your head moving at a slower rate than usual. “Wait…did you just say…we’ll?” Just as you spoke, Wooyoung reached around to grasp your chin and guide it to the side, allowing you to spot the fiery-headed gentleman manspreading on the VIP couch across from you, his heated gaze alone making you throb. “Isn’t…that the guy who owns this place?”
“Mm, he owns a lot of things. You see, darling, even though I want you all to myself–” Wooyoung squeezed his hands around your barely clothed tits through your dress, making you moan. “San doesn’t like it when I don’t share with him.” His hands slowly moved down your front to your clothed cunt, feeling your wetness coat his fingers when he rubbed them against your clothed slit. All you could focus on was the way San shifted around on the couch, his hands gripping his thighs like his body was aching to be free from his tight ensemble, Wooyoung’s upcoming offer barely getting processed in your hazy brain. “Do you wanna meet him?”
One single nod was all it took for Wooyoung to take your hand with a knowing smile on his pretty face, like he could already tell what was about to go down that night, before guiding you past the crowd, the bouncers, and directly up to San, who was eagerly waiting your arrival.
As soon as you stepped foot into the exclusive lounge, the visual of the older man had your already weak knees ready to buckle underneath you now that you could see him up close. He was dressed head to toe in sleek, expensive leather. The top only had two buttons to support his front, his broad chest on full display for you to drool over. Your eyes eventually followed upwards until you got to his obscenely handsome face, his sharp, feline-like features bathed in the club’s sinful red lighting. Then, of course, the nail in the coffin was the dimpled smile he offered you, one that was so inviting that you didn’t realize you were being drawn to him like a moth to a burning flame.
“That’s right, go ahead and get nice and comfortable on my lap, sweetheart,” his words, sweet like honey, melted off his tongue in a low drawl, his limbs wrapping around you as soon as you sat down on his lap, resting one hand comfortably on your thigh, his other reaching up to play with your hair. “What brought you here tonight? To my pretty boy? To me?”
You gently hooked an arm around his neck to keep yourself upright, gazing at Wooyoung who sat beside you both on the couch, his fingers rubbing gentle circles around one of your ankles, before turning your head to look at the older man, trying to keep bad memories from flooding your brain.
San gently twirled your hair around his finger, urging in a deep, comforting voice, “Let it out. Don’t be afraid, princess.”
Your brain offered you a pleasant fuzziness instead. “I…had a bad breakup…I just really wanted to come here, get my back blown out, and forget about it all, you know?”
Wooyoung stifled a cackle, while San’s lower lip jutted out in a pout, his hand splaying across your upper thigh, slowly rubbing it up and down. “Poor angel. I bet he never made you feel needed, huh?” You mirrored his pout, shaking your head. “I can make you feel needed, baby. Do you want that?” A nod this time, your breath caught in your throat. San leaned in, pressing his lips to your warm cheek, murmuring, “Then, let Daddy take care of you, alright?”
And just like that, there were no rules anymore. No regulations. No holding back. Just you, two strangers, and a club full of people that couldn’t care less about what you were doing. San still held you in his lap, your trembling legs just barely spread open enough to allow his hand in between them, rubbing his thick digits against your cunt through your soaked panties, while Wooyoung had a front row seat. “Is it good for you, baby? Or do you want more?”
“More,” you exhaled, about to say something when San squeezed your clit roughly, making you gasp.
“More, what, princess?” San leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, whispering against them, “What’s my name?”
“More, Daddy,” you corrected yourself, just as San’s ringed fingers moved past your panties and slipped right inside you up to the knuckle, filling you up just enough to make your brain go fuzzy.
Wooyoung moaned just when you did, biting his lip at the sight of San’s veins popping out when he began to pump his fingers in and out of your squelching hole. “Fuck, that’s so hot…she’s so wet, Daddy…”
“She is, isn’t she?” San agreed, curling his fingers inside you until he hit the spot that made you drool, his lips suddenly latching onto your neck to leave his mark behind on your skin so you could remember exactly what you did when you woke up the next morning. “Look at you, taking my fingers in your tight little cunt like this. Such a good girl.”
“Uh-huh,” you could barely verbalize, whining at his words, clenching around his digits. You could barely focus on anything else except for the older man’s thick fingers stretching you out, his rings offering you a pleasure you didn’t realize you needed in your life, though Wooyoung’s warm hands on your thighs and gentle smile kept you from getting too lost in the moment.
However, San was in the same boat as you, his trapped, throbbing cock already leaking so much pre-cum that he was about to lose it, encouraging him to suggest, “Mm, but you need Daddy’s cock, don’t you?” He watched you give him a weak nod, knowing you were on the edge of orgasming from the way your body began to lock up. “I should just fuck you dumb right here for everyone to see. Have you make a big mess on this couch. It’s my club, after all. Why shouldn’t I do what I want?” He sped up the pace, practically pounding his fingers into your cunt, your arousal leaking down your shaking thighs, continuing to dispel filthy words for only you and his boytoy to hear. “Fuck, they’ll enjoy seeing a pretty thing like you fall apart on my lap, won’t they? See this cunt of yours stretch around my cock and take my cum inside. Mmm. See the way I make you mine.”
Everything was too much. The crowded room. The possibility of someone’s eyes on you. San’s filthy words. His fingers jammed inside your soaked cunt. Wooyoung’s unwavering gaze, his hands squeezing into your thighs. The unrelenting pleasure coursing through your body. You ended up cumming so hard, you saw stars, not even realizing San was silencing your pleasured cries until you felt his lips on yours and his tongue push into your open mouth. Just as San pulled away, Wooyoung took his place, tasting the alcohol on your tongue, before gently tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth.
“Should we go to your office now, Sannie?” Wooyoung asked the older man, his hooded eyes flitting between San’s and yours, neither of you even having to speak another word before you all got up from the couch.
-
“Whoa,” you murmured to yourself, looking around the expansive room, the interior matching the rest of the sleek club. Aside from the small computer desk setup in the corner, there was a large bed with satin sheets that took up a good portion of the room, but most of your attention was on the mirrors that were perfectly positioned on either side of the bed, as well as the ceiling. “Mirrors?”
“Sannie likes to watch himself,” Wooyoung giggled, rubbing the small of your back in comforting circles, leading you to the bed alongside San who sat down on the edge of it, looking up to you and Wooyoung who stood behind you, running his hands along your sides up to your shoulders, before taking hold of the zipper of your dress.
“I like to watch pretty angels like you come undone too. Watch the lust take over you until you’re covered in sweat and cum,” San mused, gazing into your eyes until Wooyoung slowly pulled the straps of your dress down, the both of them watching it fall from your body. Groaning, San began to mirror Wooyoung’s actions, unbuttoning his blazer, then pulling it off and revealing an expanse of smooth tan skin, the muscles in his arms flexing as he began to unbuckle his pants. Once San’s pants hit the floor and his thick, veiny cock sprung up, you found yourself sinking down to your knees, your mouth watering at the sight of pre-cum dribbling down the man’s reddened cockhead. “What do you want, princess? Tell me.”
“Your cock,” you requested immediately, settling your hands on his strong thighs. “In my mouth, please.”
“Ahh…?” San tilted his head to the side, his eyebrows raising up slightly.
“Daddy,” you replied swiftly, leaning in to rub your cheek against his hot, throbbing length, pouting, licking at the pre-cum that dripped onto your face. “Please.”
“Good girl. So dirty for me. Aren’t I a lucky man?” San let out a satisfied sigh, reaching down to wrap a good amount of your hair around his fist, holding it in a ponytail so that he could see your face, before sliding his cock into the hot, slick haven that was your mouth and throat. “That’s it, suck it nice and hard, princess. Show me how much you like having Daddy’s cock in your mouth.”
You reciprocated, throating his cock the best you could, choking and gagging occasionally, digging your fingers into his thighs.
“Mmm, there you go. You’re so good for me, angel. Don’t stop, okay?” San praised, closing his eyes, gripping your hair, slowly thrusting himself into your open mouth, delighted by the lewd sounds of your moans and the squelching sounds coming from your throat. Once he felt Wooyoung’s fingers slide into his hair and grip it, San looked up, watching Wooyoung lift one leg up onto the edge of the bed, the younger man’s eyes full of hunger.
Finally getting your throat to relax completely, you simply continued to take San’s cock in your throat, having to blink the remaining tears away to see San clearly — though nothing could prepare you for the sight of Wooyoung guiding San’s head downwards, his twitching cock disappearing inside San’s willing mouth.
“Fuck, it feels so hot,” Wooyoung panted, a bit of drool leaving his plump lips, thrusting deeper until he entered San’s throat, the older man’s groans vibrating onto Wooyoung’s balls each time they touched his chin. “Daddy acts so big and bad all the time, but he just loves getting cock rammed down his throat, huh?”
Wooyoung knew him so well. That’s why he was his favorite, well, aside from the angel that was taking him to heaven with only her mouth. San reached up with his free hand to massage Wooyoung’s balls, guiding his mouth along the younger man’s cock himself, sucking him off like he was made for it, like he always did.
Letting go of San’s hair to touch his own body, shuddering at all the pleasure at his disposal, Wooyoung gazed down at you, watching you obediently take San’s cock, the man’s hand still wrapped up in your hair and tugging at it. “Look at you go. You look so pretty when your mouth’s stuffed with cock, angel. You’re gonna make my Daddy cum so hard for you, huh?”
Squeezing your thighs together around your hand that was playing with your dripping cunt, you nodded your head, swearing you were about to cum just from what was happening around you, knowing San was in a similar place from the way he started to involuntarily buck his hips up into your mouth.
“Don’t swallow and save some for me, baby, okay? Don’t be stingy,” Wooyoung reminded you in a strained, breathy voice, almost falling over from the way San gripped one side of his hips, a string of obscenities falling from his lips when the man forcefully drove his throbbing cock into his hot throat, about to see god herself when San’s throat began constricting around his length like a pussy would. “Fuck, gonna cum, Sannie.”
San pulled back, a few thick strings of saliva connecting his swollen lips to Wooyoung’s dripping tip, his hand closing around the base to jerk him off. “Cum on Sannie’s face, will you? Make a big fucking mess for me.”
Wooyoung whined and panted, San’s slick hand moving quickly along his length, trying not to choke on his spit and moans, barely able to stay upright, but thankfully San had a good grip on his hips.
San looked down at you, licking the saliva from his lips, pulling out just enough so that his thick cockhead rested on your tongue. “Are you going to take this load? Hmm? Want it?”
“Yes, fuck, Daddy, please give it to me,” you begged, panting heavily, your fingers about to slip out of you from how fast you were moving them.
“Oh god, here it comes, angel,” San groaned out, squeezing around the base of Wooyoung’s cock, making him let out a broken, high-pitched whine.
Your combined pleasure came rocketing up to an intense peak, sending the three of you into a mindnumbing state of ecstasy. Thick, hot spurts of liquid came raining down on San’s face, just as his load shot out onto your tongue and down your throat, your own release soaking into the velvet carpet underneath you.
Fading out of reality during the majority of your high, your ears ringing, it took you a minute to realize that someone’s mouth was on yours, their fingers cupping your face. Opening your glossy eyes, you watched in a daze as Wooyoung took his sweet time slurping San’s cum off of your tongue.
San gripped Wooyoung’s hair and brought his head back, parting his lips and allowing Wooyoung to shovel his own cum into his mouth, swallowing it down with a low, pleased groan.
Pleased with the sin that was taking place in front of you, you took it upon yourself to drag your tongue across San’s chiseled jaw to his cheek, collecting some of Wooyoung’s release into your mouth, only to press your lips to his, letting him taste himself. Wooyoung moaned into your mouth, deepening the kiss, until San pulled you away from each other.
“Haven’t had enough, you two?” San chuckled, running a hand through his sweaty hair.
“No~ Not after that,” you giggled, rubbing your cheek against San’s palm when he caressed it.
Wooyoung wrapped his arms around you, looking at San with a sweet smile, his long eyelashes fluttering. “Can we keep her, Daddy? I promise I’ll take good care of her.”
Little wrinkles formed near San’s eyes once he smiled at you. “I suppose so.”
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© kitten4sannie, 2023.
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buckyalpine · 7 months
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My First and Only
Virgin Mob beefy Bucky x reader
So I'm taking my drabble and making into a one shot. Our beautiful, rugged mob boss whose glare make grown men cower is just a sweet shy thing on his wedding night. He has his wife to guide him poor Bucky is even more nervous because he doesn't want to disappoint his princess. Do keep in mind he's going to be a menace once he's well practiced.
-
"The right one will be worth it Jamie" Bucky's mothers words echoed in his ear as he sipped on a glass of whisky, the loud bass of the club music making the ice in his glass clink. "You'll know when it's the right time"
He was sixteen when she told him that, around the same time that he started working closer with his father, preparing to take over his families business. With money came power and with the money the Barnes' had, it was near limitless. The last thing Winifred wanted was for her son to go down the wrong path, one filled with greed, violence and lust.
She raised him to respect those around him and himself. To see beauty in living things, to love others and above all else, to value what it meant to share a life with someone you cared for. It was a sharp contrast to the way George ruled with an iron fist but it gave Bucky the balance he needed to be an excellent leader.
Under his mother's guidance, he followed the path that lead him to where he currently sat along with his two right hand men, Steve and Sam, the three men sipping on a dark amber liquid, ignoring the numerous girls that tried to fling themselves at their table.
"You'd think they'd get the hint after you said no to the first three" Steve chuckled while another woman slinked up only to have Bucky politely shake his head.
"Think you'll say yes to any of them?" Sam playfully shoved Bucky's shoulder already knowing the answer. Whenever they were out, plenty of women would approach the mob boss only to be turned away every single time.
"Not tonight" Bucky snorted, knowing he'd be ready when he found the right one. It was just a matter of time.
Looking at him, it was doubtful anyone would think or know Bucky was a virgin. He'd dated girls before but no one made him feel anything that also captured his heart. Of course, its not like he told anyone what he did or didn't do with those girls. He certainly didn't look like someone who lacked experience. He took care of himself when he needed to, after all he was still human. His right hand knew exactly what to do when necessary.
He met his pretty angel at a flower shop. He was there to get a bouquet for his ma's birthday and left with your number instead, quickly going back with a blush on his cheeks, realizing he didn't get what he initially came for. Bucky knew he'd found the one when the first thought that came to mind after his date was that he had to take you home. Not to his bed but to his family. To show everyone the sweet girl he knew he'd love for the rest of his life, the one he instantly knew was for him.
"You better protect her with all your heart" Was the only thing his father said before patting his shoulder whereas His mother didn't say a word about you after you'd both first met. She simply handed Bucky her wedding ring, already recognizing the lovestruck look on her sons face.
When he kissed your lips at the altar, he nearly fell to his knees, the soft warmth of your skin already making him woozy. He didn't leave your side the entire night, his arm protectively around your waist, so in love with the one person he got to call his for the rest of his life. Your first dance was filled with soft kisses, whispering sweet nothings to each others while your loved ones watched with teary eyes. When the SUV came to whisk you both away, Bucky still didn't let you go, holding you tightly in his lap, ready to start a together new chapter as husband and wife.
The very first one being in his bedroom.
-
Bucky didn't understand this feeling. It was brand new to him. He'd felt every emotion under the sun except this.
Shyness.
Pure, innocent shyness.
God, he'd never felt so shy in his entire life, it was almost embarrassing. He shook his head at himself; he was over 6 ft tall, covered in dark ink but the thought of going to bed with his sweet wife was what was going to take him down.
"Jamie, can you help me with the back please?" You stood in front of the dresser while his sucked in a breath, his fingers fidgeting with the delicate buttons down your back. He carefully undid them, letting his hand ghost down your spine, his breath catching in his throat when your dress fell and pooled around your feet. You stepped of it, left in your white lingerie and heels, bending over to unstrap them, only to have Bucky stop you.
"Let me, sweet heart" He got down on one knee, taking off the tiny strap wrapped around your ankle and slipping your heels off before standing up again, taking in the soft lace that barely covered your body.
You took off his blazer before you unbuttoned his shirt, smiling at the way he held onto your waist, his thumbs tracing small circles onto your hips. He didn't know where to focus, feeling your lips kiss his chest where he had tattooed your name over his heart to the way your soft breasts were now pressed against his body.
You let your hands caress over the thick planes of muscle while going down to his belt buckle, various pieces of art covering his body in the most beautiful way. Bucky's heart hammered against his chest as your hands trailed down to unbutton his pants, your nimble fingers brushing over his throbbing erection.
He hopes you don't realize how nervous he feels when you unzip his pants, letting it fall to his feet. He gives you a shaky nod when you look up at him for permission to pull down his brief's, letting you see all of him for the first time. Your fingers hook around the waistband, puling them down his thick thighs, till he's left perfectly bare in front of you. His thighs tense together at the soft gasp you let out, scared he'd disappoint you some how though the very thought is ridiculous.
You can't help but take a moment to admire you perfect husband in his all naked glory, his thick, heavy cock curved towards his tummy, heavy balls, achingly full. The blush on his cheeks deepen when your eyes flick down to his most intimate parts; no one else ever seen him like this before, not since he was a baby. You lean up to give him a reassuring kiss while he slips his hand into yours, taking you to bed. Every part of him wants to pick you up, throw you over his shoulder and toss you on to the large mattress but not tonight. You lay down with him against the soft pillows, the silky sheets under you cool against your skin while he gently tugs on the straps of your lingerie.
"Can I?" He whispers, still to nervous to do anything while you move his hands to the clasps of the lace.
"M'your's Jamie" You nod, letting him take his time unhooking your bustier off, his eyes growing wide at your perfect bare breasts. You know its his first time and there's nothing more you want than for him to know you trust him completely and you're all his.
He doesn't waste any time slipping your panties off, his tongue darting out to lick his lips at the sight of you naked on his bed. It starts off slow and innocent. He doesn't rush to do anything, taking his time to hug you close to him, relishing on the feeling of your bare skin on his between soft kisses. He struggles to calm himself down with the way your soft body is pressed against his, your leg hitched over his waist, his cock itching to rut against your tummy for more friction. His wide, thick body engulphs you when he holds you close, his hands skimming up and down your waist before trailing up your spine.
His heart starts to hammer again when he starts to trail kisses from your jaw down to your neck wanting to touch more of you. He wants to show you how much he loves you, gently taking a nipple into his mouth, moaning as soon as he starts to suckle. Your back arches, a gasp melting into a moan at the way his tongue flicks and moves in circles between his lips tugging and sucking your peaked bud.
Nothing compares to how warm and soft your breasts are in his mouth, his cock starting to leak. He so lost in kissing and sucking your breasts, precum smearing all over your tummy, where his cock rests against.
"Can I Touch you baby?" you whisper, kissing his forehead when he looks up at you with wide eyes. He quickly nods, pressing his hips against you showing you where he needed you most while refusing to take his mouth off your breasts.
You hand goes down to gently palm him to giving poor baby some relief. You wrap around his thick shaft, loving the needy muffled moan he lets out, his hips moving on their own when they thrust up into your fist. He doesn't even realize he's practically humping into your hand, your lips nipping down his neck.
"I-
"What is it James" You ask with your sweet doe eyes and he manages to blush more. He should be the one making you feel good and taking care of you but instead here he was, scared he'd cum before getting a chance to be inside you. You see his eyes trail down your body, darting down to between your legs, understanding he wants to touch you too. You pull away slightly, lying down on your back for him because fuck, you needed to feel him.
"Angel" His voice was breathless as you spread your thighs apart for him, giving him the perfect view of your soaked pussy and swollen button. He could feel precum starting to dribble from his tip; there was something so beautifully erotic about the way you were giving yourself to him despite how shy you were yourself. Displaying your most sacred and intimate parts to your husband so he'd take care of you.
He loves the way your face contorts with pleasure each time he rubs your clit, moving in slow, deliberate circles. He doesn't get a chance to toy with your for too long when you peck his pouty lips before trailing kisses down his body. His eyes grow wide when you get closer to his cock, his hips nearly lifting off the bed so you'd know where he needed you so badly but too shy to ask.
You take your time to clean off his slick precum that's beading from the tip, his swollen cockhead growing more sensitive each time you flick your tongue across his slit. He lets out soft, sweet babbles when you take him down your throat, his salty taste coating your tongue.
"You're making me leak" He whimpered, biting his lip to keep from letting more high pitched whines slip out, "dragă, st-stop, I'll c-cum"
He's never sounded more gone, gripping onto the sheets while you swirl your tongue around his head one last time before pulling off with a pop.
"oh-OH" His eyes grow wide when you drip down further to take his balls in your mouth instead, the sensation different that anything he's ever felt. A steady dribble of slippery arousal streams out of his cock while you nurse on suckle his heavy sac, addicted to your husbands distinct, sweet taste. You love how heavy he feels in your mouth, the smooth silky head of his pink cock begging to be sucked again.
He know's he'll cum if you keep on going which is why he pulls you up, kissing you deeply before settling you comfortably against the pillows again. He wants to make love to you so badly, even if it's not perfect the first time. He wants to give himself to you, nervously blushing when you spread your thighs for him while he pumps his cock.
"Are you ready?" He whispered against your cheek, the both of you nearly trembling with anticipation when you nod, letting him line his tip up with your fluttering entrance. He lets out the most desperate moan when he starts to push in, his body weight falling on top of you while his cock throbs, already close to cumming.
"Angel, I think m'gonna cum" He whimpers against you neck, knowing the slightest movement will make him blow his load. He hugs and clings onto you tightly, rutting himself into your cunt with the most gentle roll of his hips.
"Want you to feel good Jamie, it's okay" you hug him back while he pants harder trying to give you deeper strokes, he wants to make you feel good, feel how much he adores you by giving you pleasure but he just can't. You feel too good, pussy so warm, silky and soft.
"P-please cum for me angel" He pleads, his hand slipping between your bodies, finding your throbbing clit, rubbing quick circles with his thumb.
"J-James!" You hold onto him tighter, spots starting to cloud your vision with the way he's toying with your body as if he's touched you for years, his cock reaching depths you didn't know existed. "Fuck, fuck baby, feels so good" Your moans nearly turn into wails when he moves faster, his orgasm barreling towards him when you start to clench around his cock.
"Need you to feel good angel, don't wanna cum yet, wanna make love to you" He hides his face against your neck to try and muffle his moans but it's not use, a few sloppy stokes in and hes pumping you full of his seed, unable to stop as stream after stream burst from his cock.
"I-f-fuck, Swetheart, m'cumming- I-oh-hng princess-" He practically rolls over with you, still buried deep in your pussy, your mixed arousal soaking the sheets. His body shudders and he continued to thrust his hips up, grabbing your ass to keep you flush against him, moaning into the crook of your neck, "m'cumming so much for you, god I can't stop"
And he doesn't stop.
You gasp, feeling him still somehow rock hard, his sensitive cock still thrusting into you, his cum making it easy for him to slip in and out of you faster.
"Not done pretty girl, gonna keep my cock in you all night"
****
"Was I okay?" He whispers innocently while you cuddle into his chest, the both of you still naked, snuggling in the sheets. You giggle at his adorable expression, pecking his lips
"Of course baby" You reassure him again, your body still trembling from the way he pulled a second and third orgasm from you.
"Is everything okay for you?" You check in with him, loving that the question okay makes him shy again, the pink on his cheeks now moving to his neck and ears.
"M'happy I waited, that you're my first and only" He playfully shrugged, struggling to meet your gaze while you hugged him tightly, closing your eyes. The both of you drift off to sleep, only to wake up in the middle of the night, blindly reaching for each other again.
No words are said but you end up on top, dinking down on his cock, bouncing up and down, the lights turned off, only the glow of the moon illuminating your skin. He can't help himself, greedily pulling you down towards him when your breasts bounce in his face, desperately suckling on your nipples.
Between the way you ride him and the way your soft breasts in his mouth feel, he doesn't even realized he's whined mommy, eyes closed and clinging onto you like a baby.
Keep in mind, this was Bucky's first time. He's surprised at how needy and subby he can get for you, so desperate to please and pleasure you.
Until he starts to get more comfortable.
When he discovers his dom side the bedroom.
He learns he loves when you call him Sir and Daddy. On the rare occasion the house is empty, he becomes the most filthy fuck you'd meet, pulling his knife out whenever he wants to strip your clothes off and getting on his knees to eat you like a man starved. He'll bend you over anywhere; over the banister, over the kitchen counter, the table, the stairs, the floor when he wants.
If he's not nursing off of your clit, you're between his meaty thighs giving him the most sloppy head of life and he's never been more thankful for his sound proof walls.
He loves being a switch the most, alternating between begging to get a chance to taste you and then railing you with his cock till your crying and dripping with cum.
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upsidedownwithsteve · 2 months
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Steve Harrington x fem!reader
It started with a broken cookie.
Three valentines ago, when you were single and sad about it, angry that it got you upset, morose that you couldn’t help but feel that way.
Working in the bakery on Main meant that you spent the whole week leading up to the holiday handing out heart shaped cookies with the names of different girls and boys in the center, the sugar icing all shades of pink and red. Your fingertips were stained cotton candy by the time the day arrived, hands aching from piping cursive, loops and swirls and glitter and sprinkles stuck to your skin.
You complained about it when you visited the video store on your lunch breaks, bringing in half decorated cookies that hadn’t quite made the cut for sale, handing hearts to Steve and Robin with an almost petulant look on your face. You didn’t have a valentine and there you were, still delivering treats to the ones you loved most. Robin bit into hers with a sigh, red icing on her lips, a smack of a kiss pressed to your cheek in thanks and maybe that was as good as it was going to get.
And when Steve asked you what was wrong, you shrugged and scuffed the toe of your flour coated sneakers against the old carpet and tried not to sound too mournful when you simply said, “love sucks.”
The boy had snorted and nodded, agreeing whole heartedly before he snapped the sugar cookie in half, splitting the baby pink icing down the middle. Sprinkles scattered everywhere, dancing across the desk and messing up his delivery sheets but Steve didn’t seem to mind. He handed you half, a small smile on his face and when you took it with surprise clearly written across your face, Steve turned as pink as the cookie.
Valentine’s Day came and went with a fanfare of heart shaped balloons and a too big crowd outside of Enzo’s, a replaying of The Princess Bride at the cinema bringing in couples in love, young and old, first dates and forty years married.
You’d resigned yourself to an evening on the couch in front of your TV, maybe with a pizza delivery and some microwave popcorn to soften the blow. It was a complete surprise when you found Steve by your car, his own shop keys still hanging from his pocket, his Family Video vest still on over his t-shirt. He was holding a bunch of flowers, pretty as they were small, the pastel colours of the tulips making up for the quantity. They were wrapped in brown paper, tied with a bow that was a little lopsided and Steve Harrington was positively rose coloured.
“Hi,” he greeted, his voice almost a little too loud in the empty parking lot. He offered you the bouquet, the smell of spring clinging to them. “These are for you.”
You blinked, even though it had been obvious. He was waiting by your car after all. But still, the sight of him and the unprompted gift made your chest feel like goo, an affection as sticky as marshmallow clinging to your insides, coating all the bitter frost that had once wrapped around your heart.
“They are?” You took the flowers, cheeks burning, wondering why the prettiest guy in Hawkins was giving you a gift on Valentine’s Day. You didn’t mean to sound blunt, or ungrateful, but you could help but ask. “Why?”
Steve bit back a smile at your surprise, your wide eyes and plain words. He shrugged, leaning against the hood of your car, looking unfairly handsome even under the orange glow of the street lights. “Pretty girls deserve flowers, right?” He shoved his hands in his pockets, boyish and suddenly shy. “It’s Valentine’s. Maybe I’m hoping you’ll let me be yours.”
—————
The next year Steve bought you more flowers, a bigger bunch, hand picked and wrapped in some newspaper, tied with a red bow that he made Robin help him with. He dropped them into the bakery for you, still pink cheeked even after eleven months of officially being your boyfriend and he didn’t break character when he ordered a heart shaped cookie from you.
You’d rolled your eyes, all affection, his chin resting on the countertop display as he watched you work with big, brown eyes. He gave you your own name, blinking all innocent, grinning when you scoffed but wrote it all the same, swooping letters that made your cheeks burn. He thanked you politely when you handed over the box, your ruby stained fingers meeting his as you took his dollar bills and Steve held onto the cookie for all of six seconds before he gasped like he’d just noticed it was you for the first time.
“You look way too pretty to be workin’ on Valentine’s Day,” he told you smoothly, bringing the flowers to rest under his chin. More tulips, mixed with peonies and some wildflower sprigs. “You got a date for later?”
You laughed at his antics, face burning as Mrs Rochester cooed at the two of you from over her coffee cup. You tried to glare at the boy but it wasn’t much use, not when he was looking at you like that. Like he wanted to never, ever let you go.
“I might,” you told him suggestively. “I’ve had a few offers,” you joked.
“Yeah?” Steve grinned, brows raised. He pushed your cookie back to you, the flowers with it, the bakery suddenly smelling like a meadow. “Can I earn some points in my favour?”
—————
It’s five years later and you’ve got an old shoe box under your bed, the one you share with Steve. It’s got the dried, pressed petals from each bouquet of flowers he gifted you, the ribbon from a cookie box, ticket stubs from your first date to the cinema, a napkin from Enzo’s with a smiley face drawn in eyeliner on the corner.
There’s jewel coloured candy wrappers from the time he brought you sweets when you were sick, a postcard from his first trip away from you, dozens of Polaroids, each one dated.
A keyring, from your first apartment. Plane tickets from your first vacation together, a photobooth roll of film from your third anniversary, a velvet ring box from your fourth. A box filled with memories and keepsakes and gifts, little things that Steve would bring you when you least expected it, all of them cherished, all of them loved.
And when time ticked by and ten years had passed, you found him in your kitchen on Valentine’s morning, your daughter clinging to his knee as he tried his very best to keep a steady hand. The heart shaped cookie he’d baked was a little lopsided, iced with baby pink frosting, the sprinkles he’d let your baby girl take control of were almost taking over the cookie.
But he’d written your name in the center and just like the first Valentine’s Day you’d spent with him - almost accidentally - you split the cookie down the middle and handed half the heart to him
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mahgyu · 1 month
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Thinking about Nanami, who always warned her not to be upset if he didn't cry during their wedding ceremony.
Yes, it's obvious that he loves her more than anything in the world. He would face anyone to keep her safe above all else, but Nanami doesn't consider herself the type to express her emotions through the crying, whether they are good or bad.
So, as the wedding date approaches, Nanami begins to prevent any possible disappointment, trying to reassure her that, even if he doesn't cry at their wedding, he will be more than happy and fulfilled with the occasion. You clearly wouldn't expect anything like that from him, but Nanami started to fear that you might find him a bit rude for not getting emotional during the most important day of your lives. But, you and Nanami have been together long enough for you to know every aspect of him, knowing him from the first strand of hair to the last toe. You would never find him rude for dealing with his emotions in his own way.
However, we truly only know how to deal with situations when they are happening before our eyes. Holding the wedding ceremony on the beach was of both decision, just for close family and friends. Nanami stood beneath the altar, trying to cope with the growing anxiety as he heard the wedding march begin to play. In the distance, you appeared, resembling a princess from a fairy tale, the one and only and exclusive princess of Kento Nanami.
Time stood still, the entire journey of you two together flashed through Nanami's mind. He never believed he would live this, always dedicating his life solely to work and refraining from relationships. He doesn't even dare to think what would become of him if you had never accidentally bumped into him at the bakery Nanami frequented. The icing from your cake that ended up staining Nanami's suit also marked the beginning of your conjugal life.
All Nanami had in mind now was to build a family with you, to move to a peaceful environment in a big enough house to comfortably accommodate all the children he dreams of having, to come home from work and be greeted by the people he loves most and lives for. And as he grows older, to carefully enjoy what remains of life alongside the family he built, next to the woman he loved the most and with whom he could share every dream fulfilled.
And after all, Nanami was mistaken, tears trickled slowly down his face, clouding your smiling image that was coming towards him.
When you joined him at the altar, with the sunset kissing your face, your eyes shining with tears that also flooded them, and your smile that would be able to bring Nanami back to life, Kento could swear that this would be the image that he would carry with him forever and ever.
"I thought you said you wouldn't cry," you break the silence jokingly while holding one of Nanami's slightly trembling hands and, with your other hand, wiping the glistening drops off the man's cheeks. "You can't blame me for loving too much," he responds, smiling genuinely, while briefly kissing your forehead.
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The truth is Gojo would be sitting in the front row, crying even louder and more dramatically than the bride and groom themselves while blowing his nose with a handkerchief ( ˃ ᵕ ˂ )
Let me know what you think of it. Comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3
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iwas-princess · 1 year
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request: y/n and suna come back from an event that went on too long and she’s too tired to do her skincare and change so he does it for her? i love seeing the pinterest couple pics where the girl is sitting on the counter and he’s brushing her teeth and washing her face for her 💗💗 ty so much for your consideration 🥰
suna rintaro • love sick
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“wait just a second, princess.” suna instructed you, his right hand opening his car door as he spoke.
you halted your movements, pausing the action of unbuckling your seatbelt out of obedience for him. you already assumed what he was going to do, it was a unwritten rule of his every time the two of you went out.
your hands tuckered back into your lap as you watched him exit the car, catching him sending a wink your way as he shut the driver door, leaving you alone in the warm interior as he jogged around the front of the car, nearly slipping on ice ungracefully.
you let out a worried yelp at the slip of his foot, but was soon relieved when he grinned at you as a way of reassurance.
“jesus.” you mumbled to yourself, nearly having a heart attack just then.
rintaro walked it off like nothing had happened, smoothly recomposing himself for your view only. if it wasn’t for the freezing temperatures, you would have been able to notice the bright blush on his cheeks from embarrassment. but he played himself off well, as usual.
when he got to your side of the car, he hesitated slightly before opening the door. it would be cold out here for you, and you were exhausted, nearly spent already from socializing all night with friends. the sudden, harsh winter air would make you displeased and shivering for a few fleeting moments before entering the house, and suna just couldn’t have that.
he couldn’t have his precious princess be cold for any more than a millisecond or else he’s be very disappointed within himself.
deciding what his solution would be, he help up one finger at you through the window, signaling for you to be patient for one moment and he’d explain the change of plans later.
“what?” you questioned him, but he could only read your lips through the thick glass.
“one minute, baby. i’m going to go do something really quickly, hold on.” he halfheartedly explained.
you understood what you needed to in order to ask no more questions— both exhausted and lack of communication being a result.
your eyes followed him as he walked to the front door of your shared home, unlocking it and entering the house before shutting the door behind him after blowing you a gentle kiss for good measure, a way of telling you that everything is okay and he’ll be back shortly.
you sat back in the seat tiredly, the heated interior keeping you in a nice warm hug while you waited for him.
after only a few fleeting moments, you had forgotten about rintaro and found yourself falling into a soft slumber.
“c’mon, sweet girl, let’s get you inside.”
you awoke slightly when strong arms wrapped around your body, closely holding you tightly to his chest to secure and comfort you as he lifted you carefully out of the car, nudging the door closed with his knee once your were fully outside and safe in his arms.
“rinnie?” you sleepily mumbled, your eyes still closed gently as you called out to him.
he glanced down at you as he began to walk up the driveway, a small smile on his face at your sleepy state.
“yes, princess?”
“are we in bed, yet?”
he chuckled, causing his chest to rumble and you to whine at the vibrations against your body.
“not yet, special one. i’m carrying you inside— you fell asleep in the car.” he answered as he walked into the warm house, you wrapped in blanket in tow.
you stirred slightly at the change of lighting, the dark night sky in contrast to the warm yellow light the living room lamp provided becoming noticeable to you.
your eye were still shut, too tired to open them and welcome light in as you stayed bundled in your boyfriend’s arms.
“gonna have to set you on the couch, okay, pretty girl? i have to take our shoes off.” suna explained, his voice soft as he spoke at you, his eyes taking in your resting face.
you tiredly mumbled a barely coherent ‘yes’ in response, your cute cozy voice causing rintaro’s heart to swell and his stomach to warm up in pure happiness.
how he got to lucky with you was beyond him, but he wouldn’t trade you for the world. every little quirk of your’s had him tripping over his two feet in adoration, much to your disbelief. he didn’t care if you believed him though, because he could feel it in his bones the each centimeter of you was beautiful— especially now as you drool sleepyly in his arms.
he walked a few feet in front him, stopping to crouch down and ever so gently set you down on the velvet couch he had bought a few months prior as a anniversary present. your previous couch had been stained by your newly potty trained puppy and you were heartbroken over it, but as always, suna knew just what to do to cheer his princess up once more.
the feeling of a soft cushion cradling your head had you nuzzling into the feeling, rubbing your flushed cheek against a throw pillow that suna placed there for under your head before lying you down.
a few moments passed before you were scooped up carefully again, your favorite blanket wrapped cozyly around you, granting you infinite warmth.
“alright, princess. now it’s time for bed.” he sighed, relieved.
you were too tired to understand much, only the nickname kissing your ears like a song. but, you trusted that rintaro would do whatever was in your best interest no matter how sleepy you were.
he made his way to the bedroom, continuing to carry you effortlessly throughout the house as you slept peacefully in his arms. he often glanced down at you, finding a small proud smile on his face as he did so.
you were everything to him, nothing else mattered when he was around you. his only focus in those moments were taking the best care of you that he could and making sure you were safe and happy. all of which you seemed to be in this moment.
rintaro watched you thrive tonight as you spoke to all of your friends at the holiday party, and he couldn’t have been seen happier in the corner. his face held a grin all night, a proud smile he wore for everyone to see as they passed him by. the other guests probably assumed that he was one of two things: either high or just had the best sex of his life— but he wasn’t even close to their unclean thoughts. suna rintaro was lovesick, so lovesick that you surrounded his whole night— even on the rare occasion that you were out of his protective sight. you occupied his thoughts every minute, the way you spoke to everyone with such kindness and consideration, the way you let some of them cut you off mid sentence but were careful to bite back if someone off hand was said, the way you gave him sweet reassuring glances every two minutes to make sure he was having a good time and welcome to join your conversation whenever, the way you blew him kisses when you passed by him to go into another room— everything about the way you glew at that engagement party had suna feeling like a hopeless romantic.
as he neared the bedroom, only being two steps away from it, you stirred slightly causing him to gently stop momentarily to check on you. this allowed him to also use this as an opportunity to admire your unconscious state.
‘a true sleeping beauty’ he thought to himself.
your eyes were relaxed, an eyelid delicately draped over them like a blanket.
your mouth was open slightly, leaking drool that pooled in the corner of your mouth. the same mouth the suna kissed every morning and night, and dreamed of stealing more when he couldn’t.
but, as he stared down at you, he noticed how dolled up you still were. you still had your makeup on, a tad but smudged but there and your hair was neater than usual.
“fuck.” he whispered under his breath in realization.
the bathroom wasn’t too far from where he was now, just a few feet behind him, but he didn’t want to move too much in fear of waking the sleeping princess. but, he could manage.
carefully, he turned around as smoothly he could without swinging you around in his arms, his sockclad feet skillfully shifting with little to no motion beyond his torso. glancing down at you, suna nearly sighed in relief to find you still sound asleep.
he confidently but carefully took a few steps before making his way to the bathroom.
“rinnie?” you mumbled dreamily.
his heart almost stopped, had not been gently enough?
“yes, princess?”
you opened your eyes, blinking up at him sleepily.
“i still have my dress on and it’s uncomfy.” you whined softly.
he smiled at your cuteness but sympathized with your uncomfortable feeling.
“i know, sweetheart. i’m going to take you into here and get you all cleaned up and ready for bed, okay?”
you pouted but nodded slowly, dreading having to wake soon to get unready.
———
after a few minutes of unexplained moment, you finally opened your eyes to find suna looking down at you as he cradled you in his arms. you quickly recognized that he was standing in your shared bathroom, the familiar dim light of the mirror giving it away.
“hey, beautiful. i have to wash your pretty face off, okay? you have makeup on.” he softly explained when confusion flashed your face.
“oh.”
he smiled and nodded in agreement before leaning over and eventually attempting to sit you up on the counter. little to no words were exchanged between you two as you repositioned, the action being understood by you quickly.
he reached behind your right side, sliding your cleanser forward before giving your nose a soft kiss.
“wait,” you interjected. “i need the makeup remover first before the cleanser…” you corrected.
he nodded understandingly, murmuring a quick ‘thank you, baby’ in return before correcting his almost mistake by placing the larger bottle of micellar water from near the light switch, next to the cleanser.
“this stuff?”
you hummed in agreement, a sleepy haze coating your eyes as he glanced back at you, taking note of how beat you looked. he’ll be sure to get you all nice and tucked in when the two of you finally lay down for the night, the best princess burrito he could muster.
rintaro leaned over closer to you, his strong scent filling the empty air between the two of you causing you to wake slightly but not enough to pull you out of your dozed off state. you’re eyes were open but you had zoned out within the few silent moments, brain foggy and peaceful. his catlike eyes narrowed at you, enjoying the beautiful sight of you so serene. it was like you were an enchantress, your beauty lit up his whole soul, opening him up with light and covering all of his shadowy spots with your glow.
“you’re so fucking beautiful, princess.” he mumbled. “all mine too.”
your lashes fluttered shut, a carelessly swift motion that sent suna’s heart on fire.
“tired.” you groggily mumbled.
“i know, sweet girl. let’s get you all cleaned up, yeah?”
he briefly caressed your hair lovingly before turning the faucet on and squirting a pump of face wash into his open hand.
“one or two pumps?”
you hummed out your answer, a low effort attempt to answer him.
“what was that, princess? gonna have to speak up for me.”
“t-two.”
he obliged, dispensing another glop and lathering it to foam under the running water.
“now, you’re gonna have to wake up a little more, okay? i’m sorry, babygirl, i know you’re tired.” suna gently sympathized, his large callused hands wet with foamy makeup remover.
you let a light whine pass your lips, frustration and exhaustion bubbling in your chest cavity and threatening to flood the bathroom, taking your beautiful boyfriend with it. but, you obliged; opening your bloodshot eyes and being greeted with the domestic sight.
he stood in front of you now, only about two inches of space left between you. his hands were facing up, arms slightly extended to keep the soap from getting on him or dripping everywhere. rintaro’s eyes watched you intently, awaiting your ‘okay’ to wet your face and wash away the day.
but the only thing you could focus on was the scent that filled the air; suna’s scent. the delightful musk of his cologne mixed with fresh linens and a warm scented candle you lit earlier that day embraced your lungs as you breathed in, causing your heart to warm up and a small content smile to graze your lips.
“what’s that pretty smile for?” rintaro asked, his expression mirroring your own.
“just love you so much. feel like home…”
“i feel like home? or this house feels like home?”
you paused, inhaling the comforting aroma once more. this time his icy cologne overpowered the other smells, giving you a nostalgic feeling and a fond memory of yours clouded your vision.
it was late last june, the third summer you had spent with suna wrapped around your finger and this particular night just proved how true that started was. you were sat on this very counter top, your nightgown stained with the green clay mask that suna sloppily applied on your face. your arms were outstretched in front of you, your fingers gently tracing his face and leaving a thick layer of clay trailing behind them with ever inch of skin you graze. his strong hands rested firmly on your hips, thumbs rubbing the clothed skin lovingly.
“is it supposed to sting? because right now it’s stinging.” rintaro asked, his voice filling the silent bathroom.
you chuckled at his childishness, his pain tolerance low.
“yes, just slightly though— nothing harsh. it means it’s working, as long as it isn’t too bad. is it?” you replied.
he shrugged gently, his hands still firmly placed on your generously loved hips. oh, how much he loved your hips.
“nothing major or irritating. just… different.”
you paused the motions of your hands, focusing your attention on the tranquil expression that graced his face. as if he wasn’t already stunning…
his eyes were rested, gently shut and relaxed as you applied the face mask to his already clear face. whispering promises of relaxation and baby soft skin. he trusted you, allowing you to put whatever you desired on him without question.
“you look so pretty, rinnie.”
he chuckled, slightly flattered but used to your compliments by now.
“i bet you look even prettier, princess. my pretty princess.”
your eyes nearly rolled back in ecstasy at the last statement, your tummy infested with butterflies that had just got a sudden burst of energy. 
“my pretty princess.” you tiredly mumbled, the memory of that beloved night leaking into reality accidentally.
he furrowed his brows at you, confused to say the least but sure you had a good reason behind it… at least he hoped.
“what, dollface?”
“you called me your pretty princess the night we did face masks for the first time. don’t you remember?” you explained, hopeful that the memory was dear to him as well.
you and suna were both very madly in love; truly, deeply in love. so in love that both of your friends were so sick of hearing how much you meant to one another, hearing brag upon brag about how amazing the other was. but the worst wasn’t even in conversation— no, it was the way he spoke to you.
you meant the entire world to him, and he was absolutely sure that there was nothing that trumped you in anything; beauty, intelligence, kindness, affection— all of the traits that rintaro was sure you were the best at. his most fond memories of you were selected carefully, hand picked by himself going off of a system he called love.
anytime he felt like his heart was going burst, or when his palms would pool with sweat out of nerves, or whenever you both did something for the first time together— he would hold those special moments as close to his heart as he manage.
so yes, he did in fact remember the particular night you are reminiscing.
“mhm.” he hummed back. “f’ course i remember, sweetie.”
you smiled tiredly, your eyes hardly open but still trying.
“you called me your pretty princess.” you repeated.
suna’s cheeks tinted pink at the way your voice sounded, as if you were dreaming and he was everything you could ever wanted.
and he was.
“i always call you that.” he deadpanned.
why was that particular name sticking to you? it wasn’t an unusual occurrence for those exact words to slip out of his mouth when addressing you, so why were you so hung up on it now?
“yeah- but this was different. you said it like you meant it-“
“i always mean it. always.” his voice was authoritative, as if he was ordering you gently to correct your thoughts.
like a king, ordering his insecure queen to trust his love, demanding that she change her course of thought before he beheads her.
or at least that’s what your groggy mind concocted.
“but this was the first. the first time that i felt you meant it. i could feel the love and security behind your words, even if there were only three of them.”
rintaro was silent, his rough hands foamy and awaiting your approval to wash away the exhausting party. but, he couldn’t think of that right now. all that filled his lovesick brain was how beautifully romantic your soul was, and how it took everything he ever said to heart.
a few fleeting moments passed as he continued to think, a calm silence building in the air before a cheeky grin spread across his face.
“fuck, i just love you so much. you’re so damn fucking sweet, y’know that? my princess is so goddamn sweet and lovely. i just love you. so so much, baby. don’t ever change, please.” suna rambled, a large smile on his face as he spoke.
he placed a kiss to you lips, quick but enchanting before he finally quirked a brow at you, suggesting that he was ready to get this over with. you nodded, consenting him to clean your makeup off at last.
“wet my face a bit first. it’ll come off easier.” you mumbled.
he hissed out a ‘shit’ before rapidly looking around for a washcloth to wet and gently rub on your face to dampen it as you suggested.
you quickly caught on and told him to just rinse off his hands and pat the wetness onto your face before his hands dried.
“are you sure?”
“yes. it’s not like you’re dirty or anything. i suck on your fingers all the time, i’m sure i won’t get any dirtier from this than that.”
he smirked at the mention of his slender fingers in your mouth, suddenly craving the sight and feeling of it. but, he had enough courtesy to wait until before you drifted off in bed soon.
the action wasn’t sexual when you did it, neither of you saw it that way. it was more of a comfort thing for you, and suna sure did enjoy watching you so content just from suckling on his fingers. his.
with a small sigh of self-dissatisfaction, rintaro reached his hand into the sink and nudged the faucet on with his large ring finger.
“suna?”
he ran his hands under the water as he let out a quite hum.
“would it be okay if you could undress me too?”
“of course, princess. i was going to anyway.”
“really? it wouldn’t be weird?”
he furrowed his brows once more.
“why would it, doll? i’ve seen all of you many times, and i adore it. sexually or not.”
your heart swelled.
“what would i do without you?”
he chuckled as his hands turned clean and wet, taking them out of the running sink to wet your face with them.
“nah, sweetheart. the real question is; what would i do without you? my life would be so meaningless without a pretty princess to take care of. who’s door would i open? who’s food would i cut up? who’s pretty feet would i kiss and rub on?” rintaro questioned, taking a pause to place his warm wet hands on your face.
you sighed at the warmth, the water being the perfect temperature for relaxation. plus, his slender hands felt so comforting on your tired face, allowing your eyes to close at the feeling of your cheeks being caressed by your love.
“i love you so much, rinnie.” you mumbled. “thank you for taking such good care of me all of the time. i-i can’t imagine my life without you.”
he huffed out a adoring laugh, leaning down and giving your nose a gentle kiss.
“the pleasure is all mine, sweet girl.”
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seraphmeraph · 5 months
Text
Decided to change it up a bit
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Headcanons - Lin Kuei brothers
MK1 NSFW headcanons of Tomas Vrbada, Kuai Liang, and Bi Han.
TW: oral sex, p in v, praise kink, gn but might be a hint of afab, rough sex, degrading.
A/N: feel free to send requests cause I can't think. I didn't proof read again so sorry about that
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Tomas Vrbada • Smoke
Needs constant reassurance when you guys get intimate.
You can't stay quiet around this man because he's gonna start overthinking and believe that he's not pleasuring you enough.
"Am I doing good, my princess?" Tomas asks, his voice laced with worry, his head buried between your thighs, lapping away at your heat. If you don't praise him, he'll get sad. "Please, are you feeling good?" He says, trying his hardest to hear your compliments, curling his fingers inside you.
He is literally so scared of hurting you; he immediately stopped and comforted you the first time he heard you whimper. Even after you tell him it's just a response, he still peppers your face with kisses, telling you how good you feel wrapped around his cock.
Tomas doesn't hold back with his volume, moaning and groaning in your ear. This guy definitely whimpers if you tease him enough.
He was gentle yet quick with his thrusts. "Mmph!" He bit his lip, feeling himself nearing his release, but he wanted to prolong your pleasure. "So warm…" He moaned into your ear.
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Kuai Liang • Scorpion
Kuai Liang cannot keep his hands off you, even in public. He often tenderly holds onto your waist, playfully whispering suggestive things into your ear.
"I can't wait til you take this dress off," Kuai whispered, his warm fingers digging into your skin.
He loves it when you make marks on him, of course, where nobody can see. Scratch at his back, give him hickeys, love bites. He loves seeing your markings on his body.
He goes feral for cowgirl. Seeing you bounce up and down on his cock, the way your heat sinks down perfectly onto his dick. It's his favorite position, and you can tell by the way he moans and grabs at your body, touching you all over.
"You're doing wonderful," He groaned, mesmerized by how your heat swallowed his cock. "Just like that, my love." One hand grabbed at your breasts while the other rested on your thigh.
As you approach your climax, he'll tell you how much of a good girl you are and how much he loves you. He'll basically walk you through your release.
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Bi Han • Sub Zero
He loves making you beg. He will edge you for hours to hear you whine and whimper his name.
"Bi-Bi Han," You choked out a sob. "Please, please let me come," You tried to reason. You were sat on his cock at his desk as he wrote something on a scroll. As you tried to wiggle, his grip was tight on your hip, keeping you in place.
"Be a good whore and stop moving," He sneered. "Maybe if you beg enough, I'll let you."
He gets jealous VERY easily. Seeing a man strike up a friendly conversation with you? His hands will be wrapped around you in seconds. As soon as you both are in private, you better pray. It's going to be a rough night.
Loves hair pulling, spanking, and leaving hickeys on you.
He presses his hand against your stomach to feel himself sliding in and out. It drives him crazy and makes him impossibly more possessive.
Sometimes, in the heat of the moment, he'll make the room chillier, ice forming under his fingertips. Occasionally he'll make his cock cold, groaning as your pussy warms it up. When he comes in you, you'll feel a cold and cool sensation in your stomach.
"Such a good slut, all wet and ready for me," He spoke, as he slid his dick in between your folds, teasing you. His tip was cold and made shivers run through your body. He slowly entered you, your warmth enveloping him.
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pucksandpower · 6 months
Text
Ice Queen: Ice Princess
Kimi Räikkönen x daughter!Reader
(Future) Max Verstappen x Räikkönen!Reader
Summary: before taking F1 by storm as the Ice Queen, you rose up the ranks of single-seater racing (a prologue of sorts)
Series Masterlist
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How It All Began: Age 5
The air smells of rubber and petrol as you approach the karting track, your small hand wrapped securely in your father’s. His face is a mask of nonchalance but the slight tug of his lips gives away his excitement.
You look up at him, mirroring his stoic expression. “Papa, is this like your big car?”
Kimi glances down, raising an eyebrow. “Sort of but smaller. And no fancy buttons.”
You stare at the kart, then back at him, your tiny face serious. “Will it go brrr?”
He laughs, a sound seldom heard by the media but common enough for you. “Yes, it will go brrr.”
Placing you into the seat, he starts explaining the basics. “This is the steering wheel. It’s what you use to turn the kart.”
You grab it, imitating every race start you’ve seen. “Like this?” You make a vroom sound.
He chuckles. “Exactly. And remember, it’s not just about going fast. It’s about control.”
You squint at the track then back at him. “Will there be red flags?”
“No, no red flags today. Just us,” he says, fighting back a grin.
You nod sagely, taking in the information. “Okay, Papa. But what if someone wants to overtake?”
He leans in, whispering conspiratorially, “Then you do what I do.”
You pause in a replica of Kimi’s thoughtful pose. “Don’t let them?”
He winks, “Exactly.”
After strapping you in securely, he shows you how to start the kart and you begin to drive. The wind rustles your hair and excitement bubbles as you make your way around the track for the first time.
He shouts after you, “Hold the wheel tight!”
“I know what I’m doing!” You yell back.
As you circle back to him, he crouches down, ready to help you stop the kart. “So, how was it?”
You smirk, “Okay, I guess.”
He pulls you into a hug. “You really are just like me, aren’t you?”
You beam up at him, pride evident in your young eyes. “Yep, Papa. We’re a team.”
He ruffles your hair, a soft smile on his lips. “The best team.”
Signing with Prema Racing: Age 16
“Sixteen and in Formula 3, huh?” Kimi muses, sipping his coffee as he leans against the kitchen counter. “When I was sixteen, I think I was—”
“Chasing snowmobiles in Finland?” You interrupt, smirking as you take a bite of your toast.
Your father rolls his eyes playfully. “Very funny. So, Prema?”
You nod, trying to play it cool but your excitement still shines through. “Yeah, they want me for next season.”
He raises an eyebrow, “Moving up from F4 to F3 is a big transition. It’s faster, more competitive.”
You lean against the counter opposite him, mimicking his casual stance. “I know, Papa. More buttons.”
Your father chuckles, “A lot more buttons. And more media.”
You groan, “Oh, not the media. Can’t I just drive?”
“Trust me, I’ve tried that approach,” Kimi smirks. “But they’re like mosquitoes. Persistent and out for blood.”
You consider this for a moment. “Maybe I can give one-word answers like you do?”
He grins, “It’s an art form. But sure, give it a try.”
A notification pings on your phone. It’s an email from Prema, detailing your training sessions and media days. “Speaking of which,” you show the screen to Kimi, “Media training next week.”
Kimi makes a face, “A room full of people teaching you how to not be yourself.”
You laugh, “Should I tell them I already have all the training I need from the master himself?”
He winks, “They won’t know what hit them.”
You put your dishes in the sink, your thoughts racing ahead to the upcoming season. “You think I’ll do well, Papa?”
Your father walks over, placing a hand on your shoulder. His face is serious but his eyes are warm. “I know you will. Remember to enjoy the journey, not just the destination.”
You smile, pulling him into a hug, “Thanks, Papa. I promise to make you proud.”
He hugs you back, his voice a soft murmur in your ear, “You already have.”
Formula 3: Age 16
The roar of engines, the buzzing of the crowd, the palpable tension in the air — this is it. Your first Formula 3 race.
“So,” your father begins, leaning against your garage, “Nervous?”
You shoot him a look, trying to channel his signature coolness. “Do I look nervous?”
He tilts his head, a playful smirk growing. “You’re fidgeting with your gloves. You never do that.”
You glance down at your hands and laugh, “Okay, maybe a little. But can you blame me?”
Kimi shrugs, “It’s your first F3 race. If you weren’t at least a bit nervous, I would think you’re a robot.”
A rival driver, Dan, walks by, giving you a condescending wink. “Ready to eat my dust?”
You roll your eyes, matching his bravado with ease. “Only dust I’ll be seeing is from the podium.”
Your father snorts, “Well played.”
After a few minutes, it’s time to suit up. As you’re putting on your helmet, Kimi leans in close, his voice firm yet comforting. “Remember, it’s not just about speed. Strategy matters. Don’t be rash. You know what to do and how to race smart.”
You smirk, “Who do you think you’re talking to?”
He grins, patting your helmet, “Just checking.”
As you settle into your car, the weight of the moment hits you. All the years, the training, the early mornings, and late nights — it lead to this.
The race is a blur of adrenaline. Overtakes, near misses, and strategy calls. Every now and then, you hear your father’s voice in your earpiece, offering advice or just the occasional sarcastic remark. You’re not sure how legal that is but Kimi has never been one to care much for authority.
You pass the checkered flag, a respectable fourth place finish in your first race.
Pulling back in, you climb out of your car both exhausted and exhilarated in equal measure. Your father approaches, a proud smile on his face. “Fourth place! That’s solid.”
You lean against your car, catching your breath. “Could’ve been better.”
Kimi raises an eyebrow, “Could’ve been worse.”
You laugh, “Always the optimist?”
He smirks, “Always realistic.”
A reporter approaches, mic in hand. “Quick word about your first race in F3?”
You channel your inner Kimi, giving the shortest answer possible. “It was fine.”
The reporter blinks, taken aback by your brevity. “Oh, um, any challenges?”
You shrug, “It’s racing. There are always challenges.”
Your father, watching from the side, can’t contain his laughter. As the reporter leaves, slightly flustered, he walks over, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “You really are my daughter.”
You grin, “Was there ever any doubt?”
Moving Up to Formula 2: Age 18
“Papa,” you begin as you both lounge in the living room, “I have news.”
Your father looks up from his magazine, one eyebrow raised in expectation. “You finally cleaned your room?”
You roll your eyes. “No. And thanks for the vote of confidence. I got the call. I’m moving up to Formula 2!”
He sets the magazine down, his eyes scanning your face. “That’s big. Ready for it?”
You shrug nonchalantly, a gesture you picked up from him. “It’s just another race car, right?”
Kimi chuckles, “In a faster race car. With even more buttons.”
You groan dramatically, “Great. Just what I needed. More buttons.”
He smirks, “You’ll manage. You always do.”
Training days for F2 are intense. New circuits, new challenges, and, of course, more media attention. As you take a break between testing sessions, your father walks over with a bottle of water.
“Thanks,” you take a long sip of it.
He leans against a nearby wall, watching the other drivers on the track. “How does the car feel?”
You pause to think about it. “A bit more aggressive than the F3. But I’ll adapt.”
Kimi nods, “I know you will.”
A few days later, it is time for your first F2 race. The pit lane is a frenzy of activity with teams making last-minute checks and media personnel swarming about. As you are getting ready to climb into your car, a reporter thrusts a microphone in your face.
“Your first race in F2! Nervous about the competition?”
You don’t miss a beat, “No. They should be nervous about me.”
Your father tries to suppress a laugh but fails miserably. The reporter seems slightly taken aback, “Any personal strategies for today’s race?”
You look straight into the camera, “Drive fast. Don’t crash.”
The reporter, slightly flustered, thanks you and moves on. Kimi has never looked prouder.
The race is a whirlwind of excitement. The faster cars, the tighter competition, it’s all exhilarating. You don’t finish first but you hold your own, making some impressive overtakes and defending your position fiercely.
Your father glares at a cameraman until he turns the lens away from the two of you and then pulls you into a tight hug. “Not bad, rookie.”
You smirk, “Rookie? I’ve been racing since I was five, remember?”
He chuckles, ruffling your sweaty hair, “Yeah but this is F2. Welcome to the big leagues.”
You melt further into him, soaking the moment up. “Thanks, Papa. Here’s to many more races.”
He nods, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, “And many more one-liners.”
Formula 2 Champion: Age 19
“So,” your father starts, watching as you prepare for the final race of the F2 season, “are you ready to make history today?”
You smirk, pulling on your gloves. “History is just another record waiting to be broken.”
Kimi chuckles, “You really have a line for everything.”
You shoot him a mock glare, "Look who’s talking.”
The race is a high-stakes event. You lead the championship but need a win today to cement your position and make you the first woman to claim the F2 title.
The cars roar to life and you can almost taste the tension in the pit lane. Your father leans in, his voice steady despite the chaos all around you. “Drive like you always do. Focused and fearless.”
You nod in determination. “Got it, Papa.”
The race is an intense battle of strategy, speed, and skill. Every overtake, every defensive maneuver, every millisecond counts. When you see the checkered flag waving and cross the finish line in first place, the weight of your achievement truly begins to sink in.
Emerging from your car, you swiftly climb onto the nose and raise your arms triumphantly, soaking in the jubilation around you. The barriers surrounding parc fermé are immediately swarmed by your team and reporters, but through the crowd, you spot your father. The pride in his eyes is unmistakable and he even smiles publicly despite all the cameras undoubtably capturing the moment. He pushes through, pulling you into a tight hug as the team erupts in cheers around you.
“You did it,” his voice is uncharacteristically choked with emotion.
You grin, pulling back to look at him. “We did it.”
The post-race interview is a blur of questions about your historic win but one question stands out. “How does it feel to be the first woman to win the F2 championship?”
With a sly glance towards your father, you reply, “I didn’t set out to be the first woman to win it. I set out to win it.”
Your father lets out a loud laugh, drawing the attention of the reporters much to his chagrin. They turn their mics to him, “Kimi, thoughts on your daughter's achievement?”
He looks at you, his signature deadpan expression in place, “She’s okay, I guess.”
You roll your eyes, nudging him playfully, but the hint of a smile remaining on his face despite the media surrounding both of you reveals his pride.
The celebration that night is a mix of laughter, vodka, and memories. As you both sit, watching the team revel in the moment, Kimi turns to you. “I always knew you had it in you. But seeing it ... seeing you out there today … I’m beyond proud.”
You smile, resting your head on his shoulder as the liquor begins to take its toll. “Couldn’t have done it without you, Papa.”
When You Really Made It: Age 19
“You’re looking at that paper like it’s written in another language,” your father comments while sipping his morning coffee.
You glance up, the dual contracts from Red Bull Racing and Scuderia AlphaTauri spread out on the desk in front of you. “Sure feels like it. Formula 1! Can you believe it?”
He smirks, “Considering you’re my daughter and I taught you everything you know? Absolutely.”
You roll your eyes but can’t suppress a smile. “How modest of you, Papa.”
A knock on the door interrupts the moment. It’s Christian Horner and Franz Tost. "Ready to discuss the details?"
You look to Kimi, who gives a nod. “Let’s do it.”
As the team principals explains the nuances, clauses, and expectations, you occasionally exchange amused glances with your father, particularly when terms get overly convoluted.
After they leave, you sink into a chair, decidedly overwhelmed. “This is big.”
Kimi sits across from you. “It’s a step up. But it’s where you belong.”
You look at the contract again and then at your father. “Think I can handle the pressure?”
He raises an eyebrow, “Are you asking me or telling me?”
You smirk, “Maybe a bit of both.”
“That’s the spirit.”
The next few days are a whirlwind of race suit fittings, team briefings, and media obligations. The latter being your least favorite part.
During one press conference, a reporter asks, “How does it feel to be following in your father’s footsteps?”
You press your lips together, “I’m not. I’m making my own.”
Another inquires, “Any fears about competing at this level?”
You shoot him a deadpan look, “Fear is for the drivers who see me coming in their mirrors.”
Kimi, watching from a shadowed corner, struggles to keep a straight face and walks up to you with the tiniest of smiles that anyone else would miss after the presser, “You really have a knack for this.”
You smile back, “I learned from the best.”
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Taglist: @ironmaiden1313 @ilovedreming @jamie2305 @reidsworld @notyouraveragemochii @faithm120601
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glittersstuff · 14 days
Text
mini me - Luke Hughes
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Warnings; fluff, fluff and more fluff.
Rie's note; requested by anon.
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Having a seven month old baby is the best and most exhausting ever. She gets her first teeth and cries all the time. The only thing what calms her down is Luke. She's the definition of daddys little princess.
When he's on road the tiny person yells her lungs out until her dad comes home and cuddles with her. Luke does everything to spoil his little girl, makes silly faces, talks with her like she could talk, plays with her even with the worst injury. You got pregnant by accident, you both are so young but you wouldn't change anything. She's a gift.
You sigh. You never thought it's that hard, especially when Sunny's a daddy girl. The baby is finally sleeping and you have time to pack all stuff for your daughter. Today is the first stadium series game for his daughter. His little muffin, how he calls her.
You know he wants to see his little mini me in his jersey and watching him but he also knows its a hard time and don't want to bother you. He sees your eye bags grow and grow every day because you don't get much sleep and to ask to go on a game was not an option. Jack asked you secretly if you want to join with his favorite niece. He spoils her even more than Luke and misses her, too.
Jack took care Sunny gets a little jersey and the seats are on a quiter place because the acoustic. "Are you ready to see daddy?", you speak in a baby voice to her when she wakes up in the car seat. She has the crooked smile just like Luke. Some babbles come out of her mouth and she giggles, her little curls standing up everywhere from her head. She is a copy of this guy and will break many hearts when she's older.
Today its really cold so you freeze your ass off. But thats worth it to see your hot boyfriend in action. Your seats are more behind the rink so Luke can't see them. Sunny got the Hughes-genres, she sees the ice for the first time and falls in love. She looks around, dances on y/n's lap when the music plays and giggles again. The players come out and do warm ups, Sunny's eyes glow even more when she sees players skating around. You have the feeling one day she's on the ice, too.
Jack waves his arm, happy to see his cute little niece and you. Luke didn't see that, until he sees his girls on the jumbotron. His little, precious and smart muffin. He stops skating and searches his girls but he can't find them, except on the big screen. The whole arena crowds an "aw". He's so touched, his little girl laughing about everything and clapping hands. Sunny is an a good mood today. She wears a little jersey with number 43 on it. He doesn't find words to describe how strong you are to make him this surprise even in this toothing - phase. "She really looks like a mini you, Luke! Even this curls. Such a cutie", says everyone of his teammates. He feels like such a proud dad. When he heard the first time you were getting a little girl, he thought he never could be a good father. Her happiness shows him the opposite. She adores him.
After the game you walk down to the glasses, where Luke can see his baby. "Hey muffin, was it fun?", he asks her and takes his hand on the glass pane . She lays her tiny hand in his, even if the glasses are between them. "Dada!", she babbels. "Yes honey it's me!", he smiles. "She really had fun. She likes hockey", you say. Jack comes closer until Sunny sees her uncle with a surprised look. Everytime she sees her fun uncle, its like she doesn't care about the world around her. It's just her uncle and Sunny, doing their trash talk. The older Hughes brother pretends he can understand her and smiles. Both doing some more fun with her until the coach yelled their name to get dressed.
"Cant wait to hold my little muffin. Im ready in 30, need to shower first! Can't believe you surprised me, thank you", Luke kisses the glasses to show this little bundle of joy his endless love for her, she kisses back and chews on her finger.
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