#I love to eat and smell cinnamon | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luvwestwood · 2 months

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❝ FROM ME, TO YOU ❞ - Satoru, Choso, Kento, Toji, Suguru, Sukuna

— (18+) HOW THE JJK MEN WOULD SPEND THEIR VALENTINE'S WITH YOU.

₊˚༊*·˚ warnings. nsfw(18+), (cw in order), food play, solo play, cheating/homewrecking, breeding, mildly dubious consent, multiple face slapping, rough sex, public play, discreet vibrator use, slight humiliation, public sex, oral sex(m/f rec), sex-tape making, anal, spanking, ass eating

₊˚༊*·˚ notes. valentines day gift from me 2 u lovelies!!! choso's one is so absurd. im sorry… not. hope u all enjoy, I had so much fun writing these... also the toji one had me creaming so it goes second. if any gifts were given by the men, i have kindly included specific links ^^

Choso Kamo - "Sweet Surprise"

Choso being the sweetest boyfriend ever, loves to surprise you with a 'sweet' treat on Valentine's day. Taking his time to produce what he calls a 'signature' of his; homemade cinnamon rolls glazed in icing - his secret recipe that always has you wanting more.

"Baby, come here will you?" Choso calls from the kitchen, the comforting smell of cinnamon lingering around the entire home. "I've made your favorite!" He adds on, waltzing around the place with a pink frilly apron; portioning out the first piece for you. The apron was a funny gift you gave him for Christmas last year, since he loved cooking so much.

Stepping into the kitchen, you squeeze your eyes shut; taking in the comforting aroma. "Oh wow, it smells divine in here." Eyes opening again, you walk over to Choso, linking onto his forearm. His forehead all sweaty, your heart aches- it was probably from working so hard to make you these rolls for Valentine's day.

"Take a seat- you get first bite," he beams a smile down at you, planting a tender kiss on your forehead. Peeling away from your grasp for a moment, he surges over to your typical seat, pulling the chair out like a gentleman.

You laugh as you sit down, Choso scooting the dished cinnamon roll closer to you. Your mouth watered— freshly baked, the cinnamon sugar perfectly melted, and the icing.. your favorite part.

Taking a huge bite, the glaze manages to stick to the tip of your nose; Choso cheesing across from you as he watches your every move. "..You like it?" something he loves to ask, as if your answer wouldn't be the same like every other time.

"Of course I do, Choso- you know that I'm never, ever going to say no." Using your finger to swipe the icing off your nose, you bring it to your mouth; completely devouring any bit of the sweetness you can get. "Mmph- baby, this is too good, did you do something different today?"

..He did, in fact, do something different. Wanting to make the rolls extra special just for you, Choso glazed them with his own icing.

— Earlier on, observing you were occupied enough to not notice; Choso stuffed the oven mitt into his mouth, hand softly jerking himself off over the tray of cinnamon rolls.

"..Ngh.. She's gonna love these," Choso grunts, his cheeks flushed with crimson, hand leisurely moving up and down his length. He wanted to ice these with love. Quietly whimpering into the mitt, his hand reaches up to the cabinet knobs for support, his body technically leaning against the counter. Eyes shut, still incessantly jerking off his cock, Choso was planning to milk himself dry.

The pace of his movements fluctuates, at the same time he tries to get off to the image of you eating the finished product; a thought that has his cock throbbing, leaking. Breathing gradually becoming more labored, he whines, trying to urge himself to cum - at least get that one bit out of him.

"F-fuck.." Choso curses through gritted teeth, canines desperately digging deeper into the fabric of the oven mitts. His balls relentlessly tighten as ropes of white spurts out from his tip, prettily decorating over the surface of the cinnamon rolls.

Brows furrowing invertedly, his mouth gapes; dropping the mitt completely. Unsatisfied, he analyzes them for a bit; until coming to the decision that it wasn't enough. "..Need.. more.."

He frantically scans around the kitchen, his eye landing on a fresh orange. Choso reaches for it from the fruit-basket, grabbing a knife nearby to slice it in half. Crafting a makeshift flesh-light, he praises himself at the innovative idea.

Choso's two fingers dig inside of the flesh, forcing open a fuckable hole. He lewdly licks off the acidic juice to refrain from doing any extra cleaning. Sliding his throbbing cock inside, a long sigh escapes his lips as the cool pulp wraps around his length. He begins to rut into the fruit; both thighs thudding against the counter.

"Ah.. ah... ngh-" Multiple feral groans come out in short, sharp pants; Buckets of sweat trickling down his skin, he imagines himself fucking into you; picturing the fruit as your tight hole, that only he gets to use.

"Gotta cum.. again.." Choso whimpers, watching his tip coming in and out from the other side of the fruit. "..Need.. to make her.. happy.." choking out between thrusts, he grips onto the orange tighter, the zesty flesh enclosing around him. It felt good, but it wasn't you. Though it had to do.

His cock glistens in the juice; length all wet and slippery— Choso tugs on the hem of his tank top bringing it between his teeth again, using it as something he could suppress his moans with.

Feeling himself reaching his high for the second time, a quiet symphony of whines and heavy breathing escaping through the fabric; Choso was just vocal, he can't help it. Biting down on his wrinkled hem had only resulted in it being stained with saliva.

Not a single mewl comes out of his throat. Choso helplessly grips onto the counters; pulling the orange off in an instance, throwing it to the side; his cock twitching around as even more spurts of thick cum leaks out of his tip. Sensibly, he finally uses a free hand to try and guides his cock so that it wouldn't go out of control.

Letting out a long breath, finally pleased; he peers down at the cinnamon rolls with pride. Lightly tapping his overworked cock against the flat of his hand, any remaining beads of his juices land inside of the tray.

"Ah.. H-Happy Valentine's baby..." Choso's voice shakily whispers; his entire body jittering from the final orgasm. Squeezing on his cock as he gives it one last stroke, he proudly sneers; pulling his pants back up.

Toji Fushiguro - "Home-wrecker"

[WARNING: cheating, sex with ex. you have been warned. This HAS been edited b/c a reader felt that it was giving r word, but that wasn't my intention; I deeply apologise for that! I got too carried away writing. If you would like to read the original, view the reblogs with your own discretion!]

Your fiancé was bound to come home at any moment. For Valentines, you planned to surprise him by waiting in bed dressed in a newly bought lingerie set.

Dolled yourself up, spritzed on a hypnotizing fragrance; you glanced at the clock, ten minutes until he pulls up in the driveway. Tonight, you looked irresistible.

Taking a shot of tequila that was set on your vanity, you shimmied off your satin robe, only to be left in the lacy red garments that complimented your body. Quickly, you slid on some matching stockings; attaching the top band to your garters.

The shot not helping at all, your heart still hysterically thumped against your chest as you laid yourself down on the bed; propping your head up with your fist.

Upon hearing the front door shut from downstairs, you breathed deeply; noticing that he was home a few minutes earlier, not that it meant anything.

"I'm in our room babe!" you called out, biting down on your bottom lip as you smiled, excitement now taking over your system at last.

You could hear the creaking of the floorboards as he climbed up the stairs; in which you anticipated the look on his face as soon as he sees you.

The walking stops, your bedroom door opening. Putting on your best, seductive face; had instantly turned into pure mortification— your ex, Toji, standing in the door frame instead.

"W-what the are you doing here?!" tugging at the bedsheets, you shield yourself with the blanket. "Get the fuck out, or I'm calling the cops!"

His eyes pan around the room; the framed photo of you and your fiancé grabbing his attention. "Didn't have time to get you flowers though, apologies."

"You're gonna be in deep shit if he finds out you were here," you say, scooting yourself further back on the bed until your spine touched the headboard. "..Where is he anyway?"

Toji tuts, your words not affecting him in any way whatsoever. Furious, he cannot imagine your stupid fiancé having you all to himself tonight. "That doesn't matter, I had him sorted." he walks to your nightstand, facing the framed picture of you and your fiancé down onto the wooden surface. "Like he cares about you anyways. Saw him downtown with another chick the other day."

"I don't believe you. Out of all people, you think I would anyways?" you spat out, his face blank, and emotionless— "You've- you've changed, that's what. That's the reason I left you, FYI."

"Who got you this? Him?" he toys with your bra straps, gently tugging it down; the thin, red material hanging off your shoulder.

You ignore his question, "We can't-," saying in a short breath, he stops. "..You had a year to solve this. All of it." Tears welling up in your eyes, his gaze softens— the voice inside of his head mentally cursing at himself for losing you. "..I'm literally getting married next summer.."

His fingertips reach under your chin, "..Then let me make it up to you," Toji studies your features, his heart aching. "..I'll give you what I failed to- back when we were dating." Voice laced with authenticity, his lips hovering over your skin. "..Please?"

Your hands move forward, tugging at his soft, raven strands. You had to think about it, but fuck, was it the liquor?"..Fine- You have one chance. One." your words end in a whine, Toji eager as you gave him the green light— pulling the waistband of his pants down. His cock springs free; so heavy and girthy. One chance, he had to make the most of it.

"I missed you so much," he whispered, placing a pattern of love bites all of your skin like a canvas, "..This pussy, and you- all of you." and a suck and tug at your clit, "I was stupid for letting go of us." Toji places a peck on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your pooling cunt. "So stupid."

Your lips quivers at his words, would all of this really be worth the consequence? You knew better, why didn't you kick him out? Hell, call the police? Right, you'd eventually come looking for him, but he somehow managed to do it all before you.

Stripping off his black tee, Toji mills it somewhere across the room; arousal between your legs at his defined physique. Gasping as he effortlessly dragged you off the bed, the two of you stand up, your legs encompassed around his slim torso. You finally loosen yourself to him, intertwining your tongues at your own will.

You could feel the tip of his cock graze against your folds, Toji trying to sink you down onto his length. After a few seconds of being a tease, he slides into you, both groaning at the sensation of your walls wrapped closing him for the first time in what feels like ages.

Toji murmured into your neck, walking the two of you over to your vanity mirror; his cock lodged inside of your hole. Not only did he get bigger in relation to muscle, but his dick size too. "Seems like the fiancé wasn't fucking you right."

He glances over to the reflection of you cradled around his body like a sloth, and shortly after, he begins to rut his hips up into you. Your tits bounce as he does, Toji growling as he continuously snapped into your hole; balls hitting against your skin.

His hands roam around the surface of your ass; Toji drilling into you, after not having your pussy for so long. He wasn't going to let this opportunity go to waste— he was going to prove himself right. The sex just felt ten times better tonight, possibly due to how scandalous the circumstances were.

"Fuck," he mumbled, your forehead falling heavy onto his muscular shoulder. You bit onto his skin, moaning endlessly at Toji rearranging your guts. He didn't allow this though, the man firmly striked his palm against your ass from below, causing you to withdraw your head back off his shoulder.

Filthy sounds of sex echoed throughout the room, Toji using you like a ragdoll, he devilishly grunts. Unsatisfied, he lays you against the vanity top— his cock not sliding out of you, and he remains between your legs.

Placing one hand on your hip, the other resting on the mirror's frame; Toji bucks himself mercilessly into you, the vanity rocking against the wall. "..Pussy too good," his head falls back, enthralled, moving back down to watch as his hand eagerly grabs onto your boob— a few products falling off the vanity from how hard he was fucking you.

"T-Toji.." you choke out, head about to burst from the pressure building up inside of you, Toji fucking into your gummy walls; my, did he fuck you good. Always. You could feel him filling every inch of you, the veins on his cock kissing against your insides.

Toji lays a hand on your cheek, swiping a thumb across your face. "You can take it," he cooed, "I know you can-" At this point, he has turned feral, but refused to hurt you. Minute orbs of sweat drenching his forehead, his hair becoming spiky at its ends.

You chant his name repeatedly, clawing at his back; leaving marks of crimson just like your torn garments. Toji's bends down closer; index and thumb lightly gripping onto your jaw. "Look at me, come on- I wanna see your pretty face,"

No intention to stop, Toji reaches for your hand; yanking the engagement ring off your finger, throwing it across the room. "I'll get you a better one, y'don't need that anymore."

His forehead intimately rests against yours, "We'll go- somewhere far," voice cracking, he holds onto you tightly; keeping you close to him. "How about we start fresh, hmm?" Toji's movements slow, and passionate; "Answer me baby- I wanna hear it from you,"

"Yes, yes- fuck- I'll do it," your eyes flickering, struggling to stay open. "Just- I'm.. I'm gonna cum,"

"Give it to me", he moaned out, voice trembling. "..Let it all out-" Toji's words like a spell, you shuddered around his length, your plush walls convulsing uncontrollably. He grunts in response, at the same time he hurriedly pulls out, ropes of white decorating your lower abdomen.

"…God damn," he sighs, your eyes shutting— Toji toys with his cock, slapping the tip against your clit. He smiles, planting a tender peck on your lips; giving your tits a slap. Massaging the plump on your thigh, he attempts to soothe your nerves; until something that he says takes you by surprise.

"..Oh yeah, your ex-fiancé is in the basement. How 'bout round two in front of him all tied up?"

Satoru Gojo - "A Heart(-throbbing) Night Out"

Two years ago, what you would have assumed an innocent, couples picnic in a floral field— ended up with him pounding you as the bees watched; still, you can recall the countless insect bites that appeared all over your legs.

Last year, you both went to Greece; Satoru treating you to a lush hotel that included a private pool looking over the coast. A pool, where he ate your ass out while you took in the beautiful scenery of Santorini.

And.. this year, it was something— different. The plan your boyfriend had laid out for this exact Valentine's was, you having a remote controlled vibrator inserted inside of you as the two of you go out for an intimate dinner date.

It took you a lot of convincing, but Satoru swore not to turn it on at the most inconvenient of times. Though he had a thing for public humiliation, so you didn't quite trust his words.

"This, it's- I love it, Satoru. Thank you." The two of you laced your hands together, yourself in awe with the venue he had chosen for tonight. Satoru flew you guys out to New York for Valentine's- in which he chose a rooftop restaurant, serving the finest food out there. Knowing this place was hard to book in with, you could only appreciate it even more.

Satoru kisses your fingers in the palm of his hand so lovingly, "I'm glad baby." Grinning, your eyes travel around his body, taking in the outfit you had bought, and picked for him tonight. That was the one thing he let you do for him. Satoru paid for your nails this week, hair and clothes; hell, even for today. You were like his doll.

"You look so beautiful, you know that?" Voice low, though you can hear him apart from the murmurs around you. Red tints your cheeks, Satoru flashing his pearly whites at your reaction.

"Oh stop it, Satoru.." You swat his hand away, relaxing against the back of your seat. He lets out a laugh, loving how flustered you tend to get at times. Due to his gushy behavior, you had completely forgotten about the bullet vibrator that was stuck inside of you right now.

"..Here's to us," Satoru holds out his glass of Pinot noir, looking at you from across the table so lovingly. Holding out your own in return, he smiles, as they both harmoniously clink together.

"To us," you responded. Retracting your hand, you take a sip; the tannic aftertaste lingering down your throat. Satoru slices the steak in front of him. You prod at your pasta with a fork, twirling it around. Before you could speak further, he shoves a bite-sized piece of steak into your mouth, saying 'ahh,' prior.

Having to chew out of your own will, you gnaw at the meat endlessly, Satoru taking glances at you from time to time.

"What's wrong?" he continued, "Something wrong with your food baby?" Satoru set his cutlery down, leaning in closer over the table.

"..Huh? Nothing is wrong?" Confused, you furrow your brows; when out of the blue, a buzzing sensation emits from between your legs. Your boyfriend watches as your mouth slightly gapes open, legs crossing over one another. A prideful grin plasters onto his face, as he watched you act all disheveled right in front of him.

Eyes widening, Satoru's eyes glint with faux concern. "No- no, let me call over the waiter. Hold on," Having the desire to toy with you even more, he raises a hand, hollering for some assistance.

Pleading quietly across the table, he ignores you; "S-Satoru, I'm fine-just please, turn it off.." You feel him increase the vibration level, the same waiter approaching you from before. Whimpering, you claw at the edge of your seat, Satoru watching you with the corner of his eye.

"..Is everything okay here?" The waiter checks on you both, meanwhile, you were using up most of your strength to suppress any sort of noise; thighs uncontrollably resorting to stamping together.

Satoru smiles, making up a white lie on the spot. "My girlfriend loves the wine you recommended to us, don't you baby?"

Trying your best to suppress a moan, you refrain from jittering in your seat; finding it difficult to string together some words. "Y-yeah.. it's amazing.." A mewl slipping past your lips, you quickly cover up your noises by pretending to clear your throat.

"We'd love to bring the whole bottle out," Satoru furthers your suffering, in which you were begging for the waiter to finally go away. Approving of his request, they head back to the kitchens; finally leaving you two alone.

As soon as they had left, you moan into your napkin; Satoru subtly chuckling at your behavior. "Can't take it?" He mockingly coos, watching as one hand of yours grips the corners of the table. "Don't you make a mess, you wouldn't want that, right?"

Hysterically shaking your head side to side, you pinch the top of your nose bridge with your thumb and pointer finger; mind completely clouding. "Fuck- turn it off, I beg you-.."

Satoru's hand slides across the table cloth, intertwining with yours. He caresses the flat of your hand tenderly, feeling how your grip tightens as he fluctuates the intensity of the vibrations. "..Can't even keep quiet," he adds on, "..'ts got my cock so hard," Satoru thankfully whispers the end of his sentence, the waiter hurriedly coming back with the full bottle of wine.

They both nod at each other, followed by Satoru pouring more wine in your glass. Your forehead rests against your knuckles as you continue to poke at the food; your boyfriend suddenly getting up from his chair. Your head began to spin, you were no longer in a state to interact with others anymore.

Instantly hauling your eyelids up, you panic, in fear of what he would do next. "..S-Satoru, what are you doing?.." You loudly sigh, heels tapping against the ground as he puts the vibrator at it's max; the coil in your abdomen threatening to snap. The wine, the stimulation the toy gives you and Satoru himself was really messing with your insides.

He walks over to your beside, kneeling shortly after, at this point you felt like you were going to faint. Satoru, from his pocket, draws out a tiny box wrapped in the familiar Tiffany & Co mint blue.

Your heart rapidly pounds against your chest; overwhelmed by what possibly could be your impending orgasm, and the stunt Satoru was pulling off right now.

"A-are you crazy?!" you peered down at him with genuine disorientation, chest heaving frantically. Everybody around not helping, they turn to watch the sentimental moment before them.

The pace at which your foot taps gradually gets faster and faster, Satoru beaming his pearly whites as he flicked the box open. A ring sparkles from the cushion, and tears begin to stain your cheeks. Being that it was a good opportunity to let it all out, everyone would have assumed you were overwhelmed by his proposal, and not the vibrator lodged inside of you.

Satoru lays his palm upon your bare leg, massaging it carefully; only adding onto your arousal— his demeanor making you feel as if he was telling you to let it all out, in both ways.

"My beautiful girl, I want to spend the rest of my life with you," he takes into account the priceless expression on your face, "You make me feel like the happiest man in the world."

Fanning your face with your fingertips, hot tears stream down your face nonstop. It took a lot in you to not moan out loud for everyone to hear, Satoru truly trying his best not to let out a laugh; "..Will you marry me?"

The constant vibrations going at high speeds inside of you urge that same coil to finally snap. His hand massages your calf gently, and you groan, slamming your fist down onto the table.

"F-Fuck! yes!" Unexpectedly, you curse at the intense high washing over you, Satoru leaning in for a passionate kiss. Relieved as his lips latched onto yours, you whimper; a sense of relief coming upon you as he does so. The applause and cheer of the audience all around allowing you to make as much noise as you want.

Your face hot, Satoru pulls away, wetness from your climax pooling in your underwear; your now, fiancé sliding the ring on your finger. The vibrations come to a halt, and you grab onto the back of your seat in relief— Satoru cunningly grins for only you to see.

"..Think I'll have my dessert at home."

Kento Nanami - "All (Tie)d Up"

Valentine's day with Kento was intimate this year. Tonight, you've prepared his favorite home-cooked meal; steak and mushrooms. The steak, medium rare and the mushrooms, preferably sauteed.

You thought it was perfect, Kento actually had gone on a mission today, so as soon as he came home; you'd be waiting for him— wearing the dress you wore on your first date, and mellow Elta James on the record player in the living room.

As a gift, you've gotten him a brand new tie. Kento loved his ties, all which were bought by you— from simplistic, to funky; yet the one you got for him today was an intricately embroidered tie in taupe, with your initial threaded on inbetween the designs.

You smiled at the box before ribboning it back up, anticipating for the moment Kento arrives home; which would be any second now. And correct, the twist of a knob sounds from the front door; with you hurriedly prancing around the kitchen table to piece together the finishing touches.

"Darling?" Kento slid his shoes off, neatly stowing them away in the cloak room. "I'm home," his hair no longer gelled back, instead some loose strands fall onto his forehead. He smiles as soon as he heard the record player faintly on in the living room.

The smell of his favorite dinner met with his nostrils, Kento following the aroma, being led into the kitchen. His eyes glimmered with content as he saw you waiting in front of the candle lit dinner, glasses of wine ready to go; and you, you looked breathtaking.

"..Beautiful, what's this?" he cheesily grinned, looking around the kitchen; watching as you approached him with a smile on your face.

"Kento, didn't you forget? It's Valentine's Day! You've been so busy that yo-" cut off abruptly with him leaning down to give you a peck on your lips, he pulled away, hushing you.

"Of course I didn't forget," Kento pulled a bouquet with your favorite flowers from behind his back, the man laughing as you rolled your eyes at him. He pulled you into a hug as soon as you took the bouquet from him, Kento leaving yet another kiss, this time, on your cheek.

The two of you walked over to the table, Kento swiftly placing his briefcase on the kitchen island. He still rushed over before you could sit down, pulling the chair out for you.

Both finally take their seats, Kento melting at the amazing food you've taken the time to prepare tonight. He glanced at you for approval before digging in, and you nod.

Pouring wine into his glass first, you do yours second. Unable to help yourself, lovingly watching his every move instead of eating your own dinner. "How's the food, is it alright?"

"It's perfect," Kento takes your hand into his, tenderly kissing on your fingers, indulging in your scent. "I'm truly lucky to have a woman like you."

The atmosphere goes quiet for a short duration, only the sound of the record player echoing throughout the home. "..I have a surprise," you both say in unison; breaking out into laughter after.

"You go first," you say, Kento disagreeing. "No, ladies first." The two of you playfully squabble before Kento gives in, walking over to his briefcase on the counter to pull out a navy, leather box, before making his way back to you.

He sits down, placing it on the table for you to open. Your eyes flicker, seeing Graff all over the ribbon. "Go on, have a look," Kento encourages you to see for yourself, his stomach fluttering.

You look at him hesitantly before opening the box, your hand covering your mouth as you gasp, a diamond necklace glimmering with the candlelight.

"Kento.." your body sank down into the seat, the man anticipating for your final reaction.

"Is it the right one? I recall you pointing at that in the magazine the other week." Your heart melted, at Kento's ability to remember the littlest things about his loved ones.

You pulled him into a hug, his large arms closing around you, engulfing your body completely. "..Thank you, I love it so much.." His amber, woody scent pleasant to your nose.

His hand caressed the back of your hair in the midst of the embrace, Kento mumbling into the crook of your neck. "You deserve it, you really do."

Pulling away, Kento reaches for the necklace, the two of you smiling as you both stood up. You faced your back towards him, bunching up your hair as he wrapped his arms around your frame, clasping the necklace behind your neck.

"..Perfect," he whispers, Kento places his hands on your waist, peppering kisses on your bare shoulder.

You giggle, turning back to face him, "Okay, don't forget I have a gift for you too!" He peels his hands off your hips to roam on your back, watching as you reached for your own square box on the side of the table.

Handing the box over to him, he takes it into his possession. Tugging at the ribbon, he takes it apart; the box opening to a bespoke tie. His index finger traces over your initial, a genuine grin appearing on his face.

“I love it so much,” his hand wraps around your body, bringing you in for another hug. Kento pulls the tie out of its box, familiarly wrapping the garment around his hand.

Lost in the moment, Kento leans in for another kiss as a thank you, but this time; it’s more passionate.

Your tongues intertwine with each other, teasingly fighting for one’s dominance, his tie wrapped hand guiding you to sit atop the table. You whine into the kiss; sexual tension lingering through the air.

Kento mindfully moves the food and candles away from your surroundings, not wanting to put the two of you at risk.

Gasping, his lips latch onto your neck, leaving sweet, meaningful kisses all over your body. You were like a reward. Your fingers tangle his golden hair, slowly travelling down his broad chest, stopping at the buckle of his belt.

He groans, hearing the sound of metal undo, watching as your hands bypass the hem of his boxers, Kento doing his gifted tie around your neck.

He ravels the fabric around his palm again, the tie on your neck tightening, but only slightly choking you.

Hopping off the dinner table, you kneel, your eyes setting onto his above. The tie on your neck tightens as soon as you pull his thick cock free, which ended up heavily resting on the flat of your cheek.

He grunts, heart doing backflips as he watched you smother his warm length all over your face; Kento impatiently slapping his tip against your lips.

Breath hitching as soon as he pushes all inches slowly into your mouth; his head falling back at your wet, hot chamber enclosing around his cock.

“..Fuck..” he whispered, pushing further down your throat; balls throbbing at the gagging noises continuously slipping past your lips.

“Good girl.. take all of it.” He praises, tears welling up in your eyes from how Kento was stuffing your mouth completely, to the point you could barely breathe.

His hips cheekily began to rock back and forth, cock fucking into your throat; the gagging noises amplifying. Your hands reached to the back of his slacks for support, your eyes squeezing shut.

Kento’s hands let go of the tie, instead he grabs your face; pushing your head down onto his cock; relentlessly fucking into your mouth.

“Ah..” he let out a laboured sigh, buckets of spit dribbling down your chin and onto your dress; Kento swiping over your cheekbones as he uses your throat like a fuck toy. “Such a good doll for me, aren’t you?”

You hum in approval around his cock, eyes rolling from arousal. The vibrations of your throat heighten his stimulation, Kento pulling on the tie to remove you off his slob covered length.

Coughing, Kento wipes the tears off your cheeks with his thumbs as he brought your chin up, telling you to open wide; dropping a fat orb of spit into it.

Not ordering you to swallow, he instead pushes his cock back into your mouth— Kento whimpering as the rutting of his hips become staggered.

“Gonna need you to swallow all my cum,” he chokes out, “Think you could do that for me?”

Nodding eagerly, Kento smiles at your reaction. The 10k necklace sparkling on your collarbone with pride.

His thrusts transition into slow, considerate movements; large hands holding tightly onto either sides of your head. Kento groans, bottoming his cock into your throat; his pelvis just touching the tip of your nose.

Your eyes enlarge, and shut as soon as you feel his warm ropes reach down the back of your throat, Kento sighing in satisfaction. Ever so slowly pulling his cock out of your throat, a long, string of spit forms between you two, Kento gently caressing the back of your head.

Slapping the tip against your lips, he lets out any remaining beads of cum; Kento gently brings you off the ground, taking you in for one last, filthy kiss.

Unsatisfied with how he left you, Kento, without hesitation, pushes your back down onto the dining table, your two legs resting on each side of his torso.

You giggle, Kento bunching up your dress at your hips, tutting as he saw you weren’t wearing any underwear. “You naughty girl..” He sucks some air through his teeth, giving your pussy a slap with the leaking tip of his cock.

“I’m gonna put it in now. That okay?” He makes sure, a chuckle slipping past his lips as you chug down your glass of wine, Kento reaching for his to do the same.

He loosens the already tie on his neck, hands on your thighs to sink you onto his cock; Kento’s signature Tag Heuer strapped onto his wrist. The watch stays on.

Quietly grunting, he slowly moves in and out of you; his fists resorts to pressing down on either sides of your waist.

“Faster Ken-, please..” you manage to whisper, Kento leaning in closer against your body.

His hips piston into you at an unreal pace, the dining table’s legs screeching against the floors; the table itself beginning to move across the room.

“Fuck- fuck, fuck..” Kento curses under his breath, his hands shakily holding onto your waist— whimpers coming from him as you convulsed around his cock.

The cutlery on the table begins to scoot to the edge from his brutal thrusts, your tits threatening to bounce out of the neckline of your dress; Kento doing you a favour by taking them out himself.

“Look at me princess,” he cooed, grabbing your cheek; tenderly swiping his thumb across your cheekbone. “Come on, look at me, you’re taking my cock so well.”

You whine, grabbing at his tie to pull him closer, aching to have his lips back onto yours for the millionth time. He groans in the midst of the make out session, you were practically moulding into each other.

His forehead rests against yours, Kento looking into your eyes as he fucked into you, passionately. “Tell me baby, t-tell me you want my cum- I’ll give it to you,”

Kento’s voice cracking, warm tears begin to stain your cheeks, ruining your makeup; his hands fast enough to wipe them away.

“P-please, Ken- I need..” you say, unable to finish the rest of your sentence; your cock fucked mind having difficulty to string some words together.

Keen to get the words out of you, he pushed you to your limits. “What is it- come on- use your words..” He drastically slows down his movements, in order for you to sound some words properly.

“..I need your cum inside of me..” you squeal the last of your half-said sentence, Kento planting a kiss on the top of your head before standing back up between your legs.

“I’m gonna cum,” Kento bites down on his lips, his grip on your thighs intensifying; fingertips digging into your skin.

He uncontrollably whines, bottoming into your hole as he loses his own mind; cock twitching like mad as he pumped his seed into your womb.

You both attempt to regulate your breathing, the sound of the record player still on up to this very moment. His cock slides out of your hole, Kento peering down at his load dripping out of your pussy, making a mess below.

“We better finish this food…” he says, Kento helping you get back on your feet. As if you two would be able to carry on with dinner like normal anyways.

Suguru Geto - "Picnic Dick"

For Valentine's this year, both you, and Suguru planned on having a car boot picnic. The weather was absolutely perfect, and you two visited at sunset. In addition, your one contribution was making the charcuterie board; which you truly loved to do.

After having a light bite, you both agreed to play around in the water; the tides still calm at this hour.

"The water is cold, Suguru!" you squeal, your boyfriend splashing droplets at you, causing you to squirm around. He laughs, in return you splash back; Suguru charging towards you.

"Don't come close to me!" You scream, feet wading in the water with all your strength. Speeding up, you were close enough to the shore— until a pair of soaking forearms wrap around your waist; taking you off your feet, heading for the sands.

"You're not going anywhere," Suguru teases, his grip tight around your stomach. You playfully jitter in his hold, the two of you falling back down on the picnic towel; breaking out into genuine laughter.

He remains hovering on top of you, your back resting against the soft material of the towel— Suguru tucking strands of hair away from your face to get a better look at you. "Fuck, you're beautiful," he whispers, in return you attempt to cover your face with your hands; flustered.

Suguru grabs your wrist to get them out of the way, leaning in for a tender kiss. What was a soft peck, turns into a longer, hungrier kiss. You, still being in his embrace, Suguru stills his knee intimately between your legs— a noise coming from your throat as he swiped his tongue on your lips.

"Mmph," you moaned, pulling away for a short duration, "There's people all around us,"

Suguru's lips leave yours, latching onto your jaw instead, leaving a trail of loving kisses behind. "Wrong, there's no one here at all," you feel him smirk against your neck, his hands roaming and massaging at your waist.

Ticklish, you giddily laugh, "Okay, but what if someone comes in the next five minutes?" Your hands rake through his strands the more he went lower down your body with the kisses, Suguru guiding one of your legs over his shoulder as he came to a halt between your legs.

"Then I'll be done with you in four," Suguru grabs your thigh, massaging it gently; placing a warm kiss directly on your soft skin. His head goes underneath your mini-skirt, as you hysterically look around the environment for any people. Fortunately, nobody was here.

You feel his finger tug at the hem of your thong, attempting to pull it to one side. But he doesn't, and instead licks over the fabric, your voice trembling as you sigh out his name. He continues to lap at the material; humming in response to you calling for him.

The sound of the waves crashing against each other put you in a state of euphoria, Suguru finally pulling your panties to one side; kitty licking at your clit.

Back arching against the blanket, you were breathless; Suguru gently fucking the tip of his tongue into you. Hands leaving his strands, you fondle with your breasts, your boyfriend groaning against your folds as he ate you out. From time to time, he'd stick a digit in, curling his fingers up inside of your plush walls.

Your head heavily falls to the side; a few people in the distance catching your eye. You frantically tap on Suguru's head over the fabric of your skirt, he remains occupied against your folds.

"Sug- Suguru, there's people coming. Get up baby," you prop yourself up on your elbows, your boyfriend firmly gripping onto the soft of your thighs; not allowing you to get up.

"Don't mind them," he responds, unbothered, busy alternating between sucking and fucking a finger or two into you.

You whine, back falling onto the towel for a second time; your legs clamping around Suguru's head. Returning to fucking his tongue into you, he lazily rubs circles on your sensitive bud with a thumb. Looking to your side once more, you see the people gradually getting closer; and it seems like they have no clue yet.

"Let it all out on my face," you hear him plead from under your skirt; your mouth forming an o, brows furrowing as the thumb on your clit was replaced by his tongue. He sucks, eyes closed as he eagerly waits for you to decorate his face with your juices.

Until, Suguru arises from your skirt; folding you into a mating press position, your entire pussy on show as he continues to lap at your throbbing cunt.

"W-what are you doing?!" you cry out, chest heaving as your legs shudder, Suguru relentlessly curling his digits up into you; pleasantly enjoying your warm juices covering his chin.

He groans against your folds; shirt collar soaked with you. Retracting his head from between your legs, he gently places your feet off his shoulder; the two of you looking in the same direction.

The people who were gradually coming closer, have turn around and ran away.

"So I was working like a sex machine for nothing? Just for them to turn around?" he sighs, licking around his mouth to clean anything left behind.

You haul your head up, rolling your eyes; Suguru still anchored between your legs. "Better safe than so-" You suddenly shriek, Suguru flipping you over on your stomach— rising your skirt up and giving your ass a spank.

He yanks your thong down, grabbing you by the waist— Suguru keenly pulls his cock out of his pants, his hand pressing down on the flat of your back.

"You couldn't wait until we got home?" you teased, your mischievous behavior set straight by the time Suguru slid himself in.

Hands grabbing at the sand, his hips rock into you at a brutal pace; your ass ripping against his pelvis. Suguru was practically fucking you into the ground; your body wanting to give up at times, but he decides to place his hand below your abdomen, pressing down and supporting you at the same time.

"Oh f-fuck," you whimpered, overstimulated by the additional pleasure his cock was giving you. Suguru places hands on either side of your waist, technically fucking you back onto his girthy cock. He was pussy whipped.

"You feel how deep I am?" he grunts, your eyes rolling to the back of your head; your chin falling flat onto the towel.

A spank lands on the surface of your ass; Suguru pulling you against his chest by the scalp. "Answer me," he whispers into your ear, the sound of skin slapping blending in with the sounds of the beach.

"T-too deep," you choke out, Suguru leaning more backwards; his cock fucking up into you now. His hands roam all over your chest, squeezing away at your tits as he postponed into your overstimulated hole.

You reach behind to lock your arm around his nape, Suguru placing kisses on your jaw, his movements becoming slow, but still rough.

"I'm gonna cum again.." breathless, your words come out in a mutter; Suguru's method of fucking turning into more relaxed, passionate love making.

He purrs into your ear, hands reaching down to trace shapes on your clit yet again. "You need to cum?" his tone warm, and gentle; "..do it baby, come on,"

Your head falls back onto his shoulder, dazed; no longer taking into account the environment around you. Exhausted, you shudder for the second time; Suguru enticingly mumbling sweet nothings into your ear.

"That's it.." he pants heavily against your skin, "..Let it all out for me," followed by his seed filling you up entirely; your boyfriend whimpers at his own overwhelming orgasm.

Suguru keeps you in his embrace, cock still lodged into your hole. Placing a few more kisses down your back, his hands snake down your sides; length slipping out of your used hole.

You look behind you, eyes widening as you saw the tides getting closer; soaking almost the corner of the towel.

"..Suguru, we need to go!" you clamour, swiftly grabbing your thong off the ground, Suguru yelling as he reached for your picnic gear, and shoes.

Sukuna Ryomen - "Take a photo so it lasts"

It had finally come, the day your boyfriend had eagerly been waiting for.

Why? After long, restless days of Sukuna begging to make a sex tape, the two of you had agreed to exclusively do it on Valentine's Day. And you promised. It was a mutual disclosure, that the tape would only be for your own eyes to see.

Without even realising, February 14th had finally come upon you, Sukuna even providing a fresh, new lingerie set; on him. You both had even rented out a luxury hotel, just to be extra.

"You ready to come out?" Sukuna yells from the bedroom, meanwhile you were adding a few finishing touches to your look in the bathroom. His hands were fiddling away with the camera, making sure it was good to go.

You step out of the bathroom, his camera immediately panning to you; a free hand palming himself through his boxers. Giving the camera a twirl, his cock leaks at the sight of you in the sheer babydoll dress he bought; no bra, no panties. Just your nipples peeking through the material.

A low, throaty groan comes from his throat; watching as you came closer to the edge of the bed. "Crawl to me baby," he orders, in which you obey, Sukuna smiling behind the camera as you slowly, made your way closer to him.

Stopping at his feet, you kneel, fondling with your breasts through the sheer material; Sukuna patting at his lap for you to take a seat.

You do as he says, your bare pussy rubbing against his rock hard bulge, causing moving your hips slowly. Sukuna focuses the lens on your upper half, his fingers tugging at the neckline of your dress; tits spilling out immediately.

"Fuck, those tits," Sukuna curses, turning the camera around as he latches his mouth onto your nipple; tongue swirling around the bud. You moan, raking your hands through his coral ends; hips moving faster against him.

Sucking until they go numb, his warm mouth leaves your chest; Sukuna postioning the camera on the nightstand next to the bed. He eagerly diverts his attention back to you, lips needily locking onto each other; his large hands squeezing at the plump of your ass.

Giving it a light spank, you squeal, playing with the hem of his briefs; yearning for his cock to come out. His hand grips onto your wrist, stopping your actions. "Don't rush," he whispered, holding onto your waist to flip you around; completely bending you over.

The camera perfectly captures your bare pussy on display— Sukuna spreading your two cheeks; his tongue gliding through your folds, up to your asshole.

You shriek, breaking out into a moan, the feeling of his hot tongue against your ass tickling you. "S-Sukuna!" you whine at the foreign feeling, his hand drawing back and striking your left cheek; a red imprint stays behind.

He flips you around effortlessly again, Sukuna grabbing the camera off the nightstand; holding it in one hand as he watched you eagerly yank down his briefs.

"Look at this slut," he focuses the camera on your face, your hands reaching immediately for his cock. His degrading words amplifying the arousal between your legs.

Taking his length into your hands, you lick at his tip gently, eyes peering into the camera. One hand incessantly travels up and down his shaft, your mouth stuffed with his big cock.

Spit bubbles form at his tip, the rest dribbling down towards his balls. "Shit.." he moaned, his free hand clawing at your scalp, hips bucking into your mouth like a cock sleeve, your head bobbing up and down.

Tears blur your vision, needing a bit of air you squeeze your eyes shut, sucking an outrageous amount of air through your nose. He firmly pulls you off his cock, his length twitching at your helpless gasping; Sukuna giving your cheek a slap.

"Look at the camera baby," he grabs you by the hair again, properly placing your face in the frame. "Show the camera how cock drunk you are, and I didn't even put it in yet."

A sinister smile spreads across his face, Sukuna letting go of you completely as he falls back against the pillows, head resting on the headboard. "Come on," he jerks his red, aching cock, menacingly slow. "Since you want it so bad, come sit on it," Sukuna sways his cock side to side with his fingers, camera glued on you as you scrambled onto his lap.

He places the camera back on the nightstand, watching as you use your hands attempt to line his cock up with your needy hole. Pussy hovering over his tip, Sukuna impatiently sinks you down on him completely, wails escaping your mouth from how girthy he was.

Your hands claw at his bare chest, laying just atop his inked markings. "Move those hips baby," he purred, grunts laced with gratification as you began to bounce on his cock.

"Just like that," he hissed, reaching to play with your breasts; your hand resting on his thigh behind you as he stuffed you full of his cock.

Every inch of him you managed to take. "You can do better than that," he teased, taking in how breathless you immediately have gotten in just such a short duration.

"Tired already?" Sukuna points out, his tone mocking and offensive. He grabs the camera off the nightstand, bringing it behind your back, getting a better focus on his cock pushing in and out of you.

The soles of his feet place firmly on the mattress, Sukuna resorting to fucking his cock mercilessly into you at his own will. Your voice shaking from his brutal pace, his tip bullying your cervix.

"S-sukuna, p-please," you whimper, holding onto his shoulders for dear life, eyes rolling to the back of your head; fapping noises coming from below.

“Please what?” Unsatisfied, he bucks deeply into you once, before transitioning you into a mean mating press, Sukuna placing the camera behind him to get a good shot of his cock drilling into you. “Don’t you tap out,”

He pistons his girth into your squelching, tight hole at an inhumane pace, your cries echoing throughout the hotel room. "Take this fucking cock baby, fuck- you feel so good 'round me."

His heavy balls endlessly slap against your asshole, manicured nails scraping against the skin of his back; leaving trails of crimson behind.

Sukuna growls at the feeling of you clenching around him, the bed creaking like crazy as you took him whole. His hands took a hold of your ankles as he pulled away from you, his cock entirely slipping out of your throbbing hole, and this time, he puts it into your ass.

You cry out loud; loud enough for the entire hotel floor to hear, "Ngh-, too big," your hand immediately slapping over your mouth to suppress any other noise. Sukuna found it difficult to thrust into your tight ass, his movements becoming slow, but deep.

Hips rolling into you passionately, he takes the camera behind him, gesturing you to hold it yourself. “Here, take this,”

With shaky hands, you reach for the camera, doing your best to focus on him fucking into you; from your view. His thumb grazes over your bundle of nerves, legs now on either of his toned shoulders. Sukuna kisses on your calf, before dropping an orb of spit onto his length, allowing it to be more easier for him to fuck into your asshole.

Pace momentarily speeding up, your body begins to jolt back and forth against the sheets; finding it difficult to keep holding the camera, beads of sweat dripping down his pecs, abs flexing with each thrust he forces into you.

The lens takes in how his cock disappears in and out of you, yourself faintly moaning at the sight. His hard cock stretching your asshole out, he sighs, increasing the speed of his movements again. Sukuna steals the camera from your possession, doing a close up on your two holes, one being fully stuffed with his cock.

His length glistening from the natural lubricant in your ass, he purrs out a grunt, "Where'd you want me to cum baby?" entranced by your holes sucking him in, he still was able to process your slurred words from below.

"A-anywhere.. your cock- it feels so good," you babble, your forearm covering your eyes as you began to sob; Sukuna quick enough to peel your hands away from your face.

He sucks some air through his teeth, swiftly pulling his cock out from your ass, letting his hot load out just over your folds; gliding his tip up and down to distribute the white evenly, using his cum as a lubricant to tease his cock back into your ass. “Stretched this cock whores holes out completely,” he shared with the camera footage, “Only I could do all that.”

Your feet gently kicks at his chest, doing him no harm— Sukuna’s cock resting heavily over your bare pussy, before he pans the camera at your blushing face for the last time.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me, happy valentine's!🎀🩷

[luvwestwood masterlist]

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f1byjessie · 2 months

Text

SUGAR, SPICE, AND EVERYTHING NICE ━━ FA14.

being the wife to a formula one driver is hard, especially when they're far away.

( fernando alonso x wife!reader )

━━ one shot.

When you were ten, you baked with your grandmother for the first time and fell in love. With the flour up to your elbows, an apron two sizes too big looped twice around your waist, and your grandmother's sweet voice crooning along to Sergio Endrigo, she taught you the differences between a teaspoon and a tablespoon, that a pinch sometimes means two, and when it comes to cinnamon you can never have too much.

“My angioletto,” she called you, her little angel, “it doesn’t have to look pretty when it’s done. When I was younger, I made my husband, your nonno, the ugliest cookies you could imagine. But I put my love in it, and he loved me very much, and he ate every single one and for the rest of his years claimed they were the best cookies I ever made for him.”

She’d lifted you onto the stool at the counter, so you could peer down at the mangled mess of cinnamon rolls. “It may look odd on the outside, but it is just as delicious as the others, and you know what? It’s even more special because it was made by my granddaughter.”

She’d wrapped you up in her arms then, pressing a kiss to your forehead and laughing loudly and warmly when you tried to squirm out of her arms with a giggle of your own.

“One day, my angioletto, you will find someone who loves you with their entire heart, and it won’t matter how pretty your baking is, because they will eat it, and to them it will taste like heaven.” She’d pulled apart the cinnamon roll, looked you in the eye, and smiled— “Until that someone gets here, I will stand in.”

You ate the whole pan together, and neither of you cared that it ruined your appetite for supper or gave you a stomach ache a little while later.

She’d driven you home that night after the sun had set, and when you got to the little shop on the corner of the market square, a little storefront overgrown with ivy, she’d slowed to a cruise and pointed out where the old sign used to be— where there was just an off-color splotch where the walls around it had been bleached by the sun.

She had regaled you with another story of her time as a girl in the kitchen baking bread with the owner, as she did every morning before school in exchange for a few dollars a month, and then she told you, as she always did, that one day she’d buy it for herself and turn it back into the best bakery Italy had ever seen.

When you were twenty— a law school dropout, struggling to find your place in a world that didn’t seem to have any room for you— you bought the small shop on the corner of the market square, turned it into a bakery, and named it after your grandmother.

It was all on a whim, a result of what you're pretty sure was some quarter-life crisis brought on by feeling as lost as you were. Still, you were living out the lingering ghost of a pipe dream from your teenage years that your father's harsh words and mother's disapproval had shattered to pieces, and following in the footsteps of the woman who inspired your passion for creation.

You’re nearly thirty now, and you still don’t regret buying the bakery. It’s your home away from home now— your home when your heart is halfway around the world and waking up as you go to bed. You love what you do, and you feel grateful that you’ve lucked out in being able to spend your days doing something that makes you so genuinely happy.

But that doesn’t mean that every day is easy.

Today is one of those hard days. Valentine’s Day is just a week away which means orders are coming in like crazy, and on top of the hecticness it’s also the thirteenth anniversary of your grandmother’s passing. Even though you’ve made it these thirteen years without her, the reminder of her legacy— her dream, which you now live for her— is no easier to deal with now than it was all those years ago when you’d just lost her.

The smell of fresh bread from the kitchen and the deep lull of Sergio Endrigo over the bakery’s speakers do nothing but remind you of her and the afternoons you spent in her kitchen, kneading dough and icing cookies. You feel like a little girl again, laughing over old stories of your mother and flushing bright red when she’d bump her hip against yours and ask if there were any boys at school that had caught your eye.

You’d give anything to hear her talk about her days at the bakery one more time, have her guide you through another recipe, or listen to her sing along to old Italian classics.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Beatrice asks. She’s a young American woman you met a few years back when she was studying abroad. She hadn’t known much Italian back then, and you were the first person she’d met who could speak English, so she’d asked you for directions to the nearest bus station and you had walked her there to make sure she wouldn’t get lost, which had led to you both talking, trading contact information, and eventually you offering her a job at the bakery when she announced to you months later after continued talking that she’d be staying for the foreseeable future.

You wipe your hands against your apron and offer her a smile. It doesn’t come as easily as it normally does, and you feel like it shows. “Just being a bit nostalgic today,” you admit, turning your gaze to the picture of your grandmother that hangs on the wall across from the display case.

There are other pictures hung up with her— you in front of the bakery on the day you bought it, the bakery back when your grandmother still worked there nearly sixty years ago, you and your husband the day you got married, and Beatrice with her three dogs to list a few, all things and places and people you love and want to remember.

“My grandmother, who I named this place after, have I ever told you about her?”

Beatrice hums, thinking back to the many conversations you have both shared you imagine. As she does so, she reaches for a cloth to start wiping down the front of the display case. “I don’t think so,” she finally answers, rounding the counter to the glass front. “I knew the bakery was named after her, and that she taught you to bake, but not much else. You don’t really talk about her much.”

You frown, “I guess I don’t.”

“But it’s okay,” Beatrice adds quickly. “I know family can be a touchy topic. If you’d rather not talk about her, I understand. I’m not very fond of talking about my brother, to be honest.”

The only time Beatrice does talk about her brother is when she’s drunk, which she usually tends to be when the two of you sit down over a bottle of wine and gossip about the happenings of your lives. You’ve heard plenty of stories about him, and thinking back to the most recent one in particular startles a laugh out of you.

Beatrice seems relieved when you glance back over to her with a soft smile.

“My grandmother was the greatest woman I ever knew,” you start. “Do you mind if I talk about her?”

Your employee— your friend— smiles gently at you and continues polishing away the smudges on the display case. “I would love it if you talked about her.

“She used to call me her little angel…”

INSTAGRAM.

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, lance_stroll, and 45,918 others

yourusername i’ll leave a piece just for you, nonna.

view all 813 comments

user that looks delicious!!

user it’s actually my dream to visit y/n’s bakery 😍

↳ user no cuz literally same, idk anyone else who makes smth as simple as bread look so amazing

↳ user it’s like how irl some foods don’t look that good but somehow in cartoons they make it look like it’s the most appetizing thing in the entire world i would actually cut off my own arm and leg just to get to try a single bite

user così carino!! ❤️❤️

user how is it possible to make food look heavenly 😳

user every time she posts food it makes me want to marry a husband that can bake bc there’s no way i could ever do this myself but i do in fact want to live a life like this so very badly

↳ user FELT THIS OMG

user what a beautiful way to remember someone 🫶

user she’s gorgeous aND SHE CAN BAKE???

↳ user she’s really the most wag of all wags 😩

↳ user fell down a rabbit hole of wag interactions throughout the years and y/n’s introduction into the group is so iconic bc she baked them all cookies and brought them when she first met them all

↳ user i read that in an interview that she knows all their favourites and tries to make them all throughout the season when she goes to races

↳ user she’s actually such a sweetheart irl too, i visited the bakery before i ever knew who she was or what f1 is and if i hadn’t already seen that ring on her finger i would’ve shot my shot no joke 😔😔

↳ user what’s alonso’s secret??? where can i find me a wifey like that???

user this is gorgeous

user using food to celebrate a loved one is one of the most loving things a person can do in my opinion. so much love goes into food, but especially baked goods which take time and patience and practice. this is a really touching and beautiful way to honor someone, and i hope she’s watching down on you and thinking the same thing ❤️

↳ user didn’t think i was gonna be crying today but here we are ig 😭

fernandoalo_oficial mi vida, she would be so proud of you 💛

↳ yourusername i hope so, i am who i am because of her 💛

INSTAGRAM.

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, beatricejackson, and 71,074 others

tagged: fernandoalo_oficial

yourusername arrivederci 💛

view all 1,397 comments

fernandoalo_oficial and may it be soon, mi vida 💛

user obsessed with the way fernando is obsessed with his wife

↳ user the fact that he calls her mi vida every time he addresses her has me walking into oncoming traffic 🙃

↳ user “my life” in spanish 😭😭 i literally fucking can’t when is it my turn to get a man that loves and cherishes me like this

↳ user honestly i think it’s just time to accept we’ll be alone forever cuz if he don’t treat me the way fernando treats his wife then i don’t want him

user for the ppl asking, arrivederci means until we meet again in italian, it’s a pretty common way to say goodbye in italy

↳ user AND FERNANDO SAID AND MAY IT BE SOON OH I AM ILL

user when will he return from the war…

↳ user it’s only february the season hasn’t even started yet so why isn’t he with her??

↳ user aston martin’s hq is in the uk and fernando has to be there for the car reveal, testing/sims, training, promo content, etc. it’s the logistical pr side of formula 1 that makes the season start a lot earlier than what ppl might think

↳ user AND OVER VALENTINE’S DAY TOO??? 😭😭😭😭

user mama y papa

user i want to grow old with someone and have pictures of our vacations to look back on and remember and i don’t think that’s too much to ask for

user she’s posting like he’s dead or smth 💀

↳ user i mean i would be too if my husband was missing valentines day bc of work tbf 🤷‍♀️

user i can’t believe fernando alonso bagged a baddie who ain’t even 30 yet

↳ user i can have you SEEN fernando alonso?? 👀👀👀

↳ user have you SEEN y/n?? 👀👀👀

↳ user two baddies bagged each other guys there’s not a lot to try and comprehend

Fernando being gone has never really mattered to you much. You miss him, of course. He’s your husband and ideally, you would be able to travel the world with him on a whim without needing to worry about who’s in charge of the bakery, but despite how perfect your life seems with Fernando by your side, there are a lot of things that don’t go according to plan and Fernando’s hectic work schedule is one of them.

The constant traveling across the season is exhausting for both of you, even though you’re not the one doing the majority of it. You attend his races when you can— usually when Beatrice forces you to, which is more and more recently as of late, with the logic that you should get the chance to see the world while you’re still young and while Fernando is still racing— but even when you’re home in Naples, the worry that you feel for Fernando as he flies around the world and races in a dangerous car takes its toll.

You wouldn’t even think of ever asking him to give it up, but not being by his side is hard and you cannot afford— for the sake of the bakery— to follow him wherever his sport takes him. So for now, you will always worry and stress about the toll it all takes on him as well.

You honestly hadn’t given much thought that he’d be missing Valentine’s Day this year, but it occurs to you now as you scroll through the comments on your post.

It’s by far the first time he’ll be gone for the holiday, but something about this year just feels different. Maybe it’s the stress of the extra workload you’ve taken on at the bakery to make up for the extra orders this year and the employees that have had to call out, or maybe the anniversary of your grandmother’s passing is hitting you harder this time than it has in the past, but whatever it is, the idea of Fernando not being here to celebrate with you has your eyes filling with tears as you sit curled up in bed.

Alone.

As you have been for the last few weeks now.

Fernando is in Silverstone, preparing for the launch of the new car and getting back into the swing of things before the new season starts, and this is part of the job you understand. You’ve been his wife for many years now. The racing may start in March, but the real season begins much sooner, and to a certain degree it never truly ends.

There’s always a push to be staying in shape, eating healthy, and staying up to date with all the up-and-coming news. Fernando has worked hard to try and find the middle ground, to enjoy his break while he has it, and take a step back from the Formula One world if only to de-stress from the sport’s particular brand of pressure.

And you’ve worked hard to accept that he will always be thinking like a race car driver.

Nonetheless, though you have enjoyed the interview clips and photographs of him being posted around on social media, and you love even more the pictures your husband’s teammate has been sending you and you alone, you can’t help but want to be selfish. You want to have him with you, in your home, cuddled up beside you instead of 1700 kilometers away in another country.

But that’s the way of things.

You’re about to turn off the lamp and, maybe, cry yourself to sleep while ignoring the very cold and very empty other half of a bed that’s too big for one— a bed you haven’t slept in the middle of since before you ever met Fernando, too used to occupying one side and finding another body on the other— when your phone lights up with an incoming call and his contact image flashes across your screen.

It’s late in Italy, nearing midnight now, and the UK isn’t too far behind. With the strictness of his daily schedule and the importance of a full night of rest, he should already be in bed by now. He should’ve already been in bed hours ago, if you remember correctly from past seasons.

“Fernando?”

“My love,” he greets, soft and sweet and sounding like just hearing you say his name has left him breathless. You can practically hear the smile in his voice. “I am sorry that it’s so late. I hope I did not wake you up, but I am calling because I simply could not bear to fall asleep without hearing you.”

You sniffle, wiping away at the tears in your eyes, but the quiet noise must’ve been enough for him to hear because he makes an inquisitive sound.

“Mi vida,” he calls to you, concern seeping into his words. “What is wrong? Are you okay?”

“Mhm,” you hum back to him, shifting around in bed to face the window and the scenic view that lies beyond. You can see the ocean from your home— the dark water pulling in and pushing out and glittering with the reflected light of the moon, and the boats docked at the marina, still, silent, asleep. The moon’s glow paints the cityscape in an ethereal haze, like something from a fairytale. “I’m okay. Just a bad few days. I miss you, Fernando.”

“I know, my love,” he coos. “But we will be together soon. Do you remember what I told you when I left?”

As if you could possibly forget. The morning he left, a fog had rolled in from the sea and you’d swathed yourself in a shawl to chase away the early, damp chill as you stood on the stoep to see him off.

Fernando had wrapped you up in his arms, an embrace so warm and safe that the feeling had lingered for hours afterward still, and he’d whispered in your ear that he would move mountain and sea to get back to you if you ever needed him.

“But I always need you,” you’d teased. He’d chuckled and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, a promise, and then pulled you in even closer, tucking your head beneath his chin and letting his fingers run through your hair and comb through the remaining bedhead tangles.

You would similarly move earth and sky to be with him again now, just to feel his arms around you, or in the bed beside you.

“I meant what I said,” he says over the phone, drawing your attention back.

You hum again, “I know. But sweetheart, you have a job to do. It’s a very important job, too.” You curl the blankets around you tighter. “Pay no mind to my musings, okay? It’s just been a rocky start. The bakery has lots of orders to get through for Valentine’s Day, and I am short-staffed now.”

“What has happened?”

“What hasn’t?” You joke, heaving a sigh. “Rodrigo broke his hand in a biking accident this past Sunday, and the doctor says he’ll be out for a month at least. I can have him work the register and do minor cleaning chores, but we really need him in the kitchen because Andrea hasn’t yet been trained to use the equipment. I am trying to have Beatrice help with that, but it will take time we don’t have. On top of that, Samuel’s wife is having her baby so he has taken paternity leave, and Gemma has gone back to France for her mother’s birthday.”

Fernando makes a noise of understanding. “You are so stressed, mi vida. I wish there was more I could do. I am sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. You have no reason to. In fact, I should be thanking you because I’m feeling so much better just hearing your voice,” you answer. Feeling the tears dissipate as your husband’s joyous laughter trickles into your ear from the phone’s speaker.

“And I am better just hearing yours,” he says. “But I will leave you to sleep now. It’s too late for you to be awake. Te amo, mi esposa.”

“Ti amo, marito mio.”

INSTAGRAM.

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lance_stroll i’m really only here to take pictures for his wife

view all 4,964 comments

fernandoalo_oficial the heart is for her only

yourusername and i appreciate you very much for it lancino 🫶

↳ lance_stroll at least someone cares about the work i put in 😔

astonmartinf1 Breaking News: Aston Martin’s Lance Stroll challenges Aston Martin’s social media admin for their job

↳ lance_stroll thanks but i think i’ll stick to driving fast cars. it’s less stress.

user FERNANDO MAKING FINGER HEARTS FOR HIS WIFE 😭😭😭

user if you look closely you can actually see me about to jump off the roof in that last picture 🫠

↳ user real

user why is the first one so cute??

user lance is really just fernando and y/n’s kid at this point, he’s the disgruntled son who reluctantly takes pictures of his dad to send to his mom, and he complains about it, but he secretly loves doing it

↳ user i mean have you SEEN what y/n does for his birthday each year??

↳ user no????

↳ user she specifically learned how to make bannock and a bunch of other traditionally canadian desserts and baked goods for him

↳ user i bet lance’s trainer hates that lmao 😂😂

↳ user you all are talking about them like y/n isn’t just a few years older than lance himself is 💀

↳ user leave fernando and his controversially young wife alone

↳ user guys?? he’s literally only 42?? y/n is almost in her 30s, it could definitely be worse. at least they’re both well into adulthood

user nobody talk to me for the rest of the day this is all i can think about now

user HE MAKES LANCE TAKE PICTURES TO SEND TO HIS WIFE PLS OH MY DAYS

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fernandoalo_oficial throwback thursday, as they say, except it isn’t thursday and i just wanted a reason to post my beautiful wife. te amo 💛.

view all 1,165 comments

yourusername i love you more mio carissimo 💛

↳ fernandoalo_oficial impossible, i love you the most

user adding “posts me just bc he can” to my list of standards for men

user SCREAMING CRYING SOBBING

user “just wanted a reason to post my beautiful wife” oh my god fernando alonso the man that you are… 😩😩

user guys he’s the blueprint

↳ user she’s so lucky

user WHEN IS IT MY TURN???? CAN I NOT BE HAPPY TOO????

user she’s actually so beautiful omg 😳😳😳

↳ user they’re such a power couple

↳ user super excited for y/n to be back in the paddock this year (fingers crossed it happens more) cuz she’s actually so stunning and her outfits are always very classy and fun to look at

↳ user is there a reason she doesn’t go to many races?? they don’t have kids iirc, so idk why she wouldn’t be able to attend more 🤔

↳ user she owns and runs a small bakery in italy, which means she can’t just travel for 9 months out of the year. she shows up when she’s able to, don’t get me wrong, but it’s definitely less frequently than some of the other wags

user gen imagine being fernando alonso’s wife

↳ user i think i would cease to exist

user cuando es mi turno 😭

Valentine’s Day arrives and with it comes the added stress of knowing you’ll be stuck in the bakery all day helping last-minute patrons sort through pastries and treats for their partners. This in and of itself is not a problem, you’ve always liked helping people and baking is your passion after all, but the idea of rising before the sun and being on your feet until long after it sets is not the most appealing, and even worse, your usual happiness is still overshadowed by the cloud of gloom that’s been following you since last week.

Ever since his first late-night call, Fernando has been good about making sure to ring you in the morning before he heads into the factory, and at night when he leaves. It’s helped, certainly, but nothing ever compares to the real thing and that thought makes you feel guiltier every day that you think it.

He has a job to do, a job that he loves. Neither of you should be forced to give up your passions, and that just means needing to make a few sacrifices every once in a while.

He doesn’t call you that morning, however, and though you hide it behind as much of a cheery grin as you can manage, it stings and you’re disappointed.

But throwing yourself into your work is always something you’ve been good at, so you focus instead on kneading dough, mixing pastry filling, and icing cupcakes.

Beatrice finds you back in the kitchen an hour before the bakery is scheduled to open, and the look on her face tells you she knew it’s where you would be.

“You shouldn’t be working today,” she says in lieu of a greeting.

You shrug, sliding a pan of bread from the oven. “We are too short-staffed for me to not be working today. Plus, what would I do anyway? Sit at home alone pretending that I’m not? At least in the bakery, I can put myself to use and be distracted.”

All she does is sigh.

The morning goes well. There’s a bit of a rush when you first open, the most notable of customers is a disgruntled older gentleman who you consider to be a monthly regular. He explains a long-winded story about his daughter’s boyfriend breaking up with her over text last night, and needing something to help cheer her up. He leaves with a box of cannoli, and an extra loaf of bread you threw in for him on the house.

Near the afternoon is when it starts to pick up, but in a lull between customers just after lunchtime, Beatrice corners you in the back. Her arms are crossed over her chest, her eyebrows are furrowed, and her mouth is set in a line.

“Go home,” she orders.

You huff. “Beatrice, I am the boss. Not you.”

She raises an eyebrow.

“I am not going home! The rush will get busier later this evening and we are short-staffed—”

“Rodrigo’s coming in to work register in—” she checks the watch on her wrist, “—fifteen minutes. I ran Andrea through kitchen duty the other day and I’ll be supervising her the entire time, and Marco and Silvia both said they could pick up a shift. I also have a text from Samuel’s wife saying if we need even more help she would gladly get her husband out of the house if it means he’ll stop hovering over her, and I’m prepared to take her up on that offer should the need arise.”

You blink at her. There’s a reason she’s the one you leave in charge when you travel, but whenever you’re reminded of just how good she is at managing the bakery you’re always left a little shocked. She orchestrated everything in the span of a morning and you didn’t even notice.

“Why do you want me to go home so badly?” You ask her, shoving your hands down into your apron’s pockets. “Nothing is waiting for me there anyway. Even if we weren’t short-handed, I would’ve still been here.”

“You sure about that?” Is all she says before turning on her heel and exiting back into the front of the bakery.

You don’t pretend to understand what she’s talking about as you hang your apron up and head for home. Beatrice shoots you a wink as you wave goodbye, and it feels like some sort of foreshadowing for whatever awaits you.

Nothing, however, looks any different than it had when you left. You park your car in the empty driveway, collect the newspaper from the stoep, and unlock the door.

Your keys and the newspaper are both tossed onto the counter just inside the kitchen as you toe off your shoes. You hang up your jacket on the dining room chair as you make your way into the living room, and then you pause.

There, resting on the couch is a stuffed toy bear and a bouquet of your favorite flowers. In the bear’s arms is a little sign, and the handwriting is already enough to have your eyes filling with tears.

“Fernando?” You call out to the silent house.

You check the ground floor and find no other sign of him, so you take to the stairs and begin the ascent up to the next, continuing to call out the many different pet names you have given to him throughout the years.

You peek into the bedroom, “Mia vita?”

Stood in the center of the room, a big grin on his face, is your husband. Fernando looks mighty proud of himself, a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s had this planned for a while and he’s smug that he’s managed to keep a secret from you. He opens his arms wide when you just continue to stand in the doorway, and like a flip has been switched, you rush into him when a sob of happiness.

He wraps himself around you, and the feeling of his arms holding you so firmly in his embrace is warm and comforting, and everything you had missed in the weeks he was gone. Your face is pressed into the crook of his neck, and the smell of his cologne has you sagging even further against him, sinking as far as you can into his hold.

He presses a kiss to your head and sways the both of you back and forth.

“Mi vida,” he murmurs. “I’m here, my love. I’m here.”

“I didn’t know you were coming home,” you cry against him, voice muffled from where your face is still pressed against him.

He runs a hand through your hair, scratching his nails against your scalp in the way that always calms you down, and hums. You feel it in the vibration of his chest more than you hear it. “I wanted to surprise you after you told me how stressed you were. I told you, no? I would move mountains and seas to be with you whenever you need me.”

“Ti amo,” you whisper against his skin.

“Te amo,” he whispers into your hair.

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yourusername to the luce dei miei occhi, i love you more than life itself 💛

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fernandoalo_oficial mi vida i'll love you in this life and the next, until the very end of time itself 💛

↳ yourusername ti amo mia vita

user LUCE DEI MIEI OCCHI = LIGHT OF MY EYES

↳ user oh my days 🫢

↳ user i’m actually ill that is too cute

user they ARE that couple and they have every right to be

user WAR IS OVER

user i need them to adopt me right tf now it’s not a want it’s a need

user GUYS HE WAS JUST IN SILVERSTONE LIKE A DAY AGO??? FOR THE CAR LAUNCH??? THAT MEANS HE FLEW ALL THE WAY TO ITALY LAST MINUTE JUST TO SEE HIS WIFE FOR VALENTINES DAY

↳ user fernando alonso once again proving why he’s the best husband on the grid

↳ user i’m obsessed with them a totally normal amount

lance_stroll every time i saw him he was talking to someone about how he had plans to surprise his wife, i’m so surprised he didn’t end up ruining the secret somehow

↳ fernandoalo_oficial have more faith in your padre

↳ lance_stroll well i’ve seen my “padre” make the most cartoon heart eyes at a picture of baked goods so i don’t think faith is really gonna cut it. you’re whipped man 🤷‍♂️

↳ yourusername lancino you must put up with so much from this old man

↳ lance_stroll you know what? i really do

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @casperlikej @pear-1206

━━ a/n: this is the longest fic i've ever written, coming in at a whopping 5.4k words! and it's also the first request i've written for! so, cheers to that. this is my little valentine's day story, because i'm actually a big sap and i really do love good fluffy romances, so writing this distracted me from the fact that i'm actually very alone at the present haha! anyways, hope you all enjoyed! i also wrote this in under 24 hours, and it's a lot, so if there's any editing mistakes please ignore them, i genuinely could not bring myself to re-read all of this looking for every single mistake.

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #social media au #fernando alonso #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso imagine #fa14 #lance stroll

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moonstruckme · 5 days

Note

heya!! i was wondering if you could write a poly!marauders x reader where r stopped smoking..? i’m 6 months clean from smoking nicotine and i haven’t told anyone (you’re the first!! lmao) just incase i break from a stressful day and so i don’t disappoint!! could you maybe write that into the drabble or whatever you do..? tysm if you do, and if you don’t then no worries!!

i love you mae and make sure to take care of yourself and keep being you!!!!

thanks for requesting gorgeous, i really hope you're doing well!! proud of you <3

cw: smoking, reader deals with addiction

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 936 words

Remus smells like cigarettes. He’s stopped smoking anywhere near you, but you’re sure if you look out the front door you’ll see the telltale smear of ash smashed into the sidewalk from where he’d stamped one out on the way in. The aroma brings longing and self-loathing, the former more potent than the latter, and you find yourself breathing in the fibers of his sweater for a whiff of it.

Remus doesn’t catch onto the true motivation for your proximity. He takes it for cuddling, adjusting his hold on his book so he can read with one hand while the other wraps around your shoulders, encouraging you closer to his side. Underneath the heady smell of lingering smoke he smells like himself, like cinnamon and oranges, and you try to focus on that as your better sense fogs over and your fingers start itching for a cig.

“Aha!” Sirius slaps his last card down on the table.

James blows out a flabbergasted breath, leaning back on his hands on the floor. They’re playing some kids’ card game Remus learned in primary school and unwisely taught them. At first you’d all gotten into it, but after Sirius nearly took your head off for forgetting the rules and playing with two hands (“Sorry, gorgeous, you know I don’t mean anything I say when I’m trying to win…and I could have won, couldn’t I? No, I’m just saying, it’s about the principle—”) you and Remus had bowed out. James and Sirius have retained their obsession for days, each keeping a scoreboard in their own heads that seems to hold them in favor.

“Angel?”

You look up, meeting James’ knowing gaze. “Hm?”

“He asked if you’re getting hungry for dinner,” Remus clues you in, toying with the ends of your hair.

“Oh, sorry. Um…” You think hard. One of the more irritating things about quitting smoking is that now your appetite never seems to fully die down. You’re ready for your next meal all day long, and so you actually have to think about whether it makes sense for you to have it. “I had some carrots just after I got home, so I could eat whenever you want to.”

“Alright…”

You take another deep inhale, telling yourself it’s because Remus smells nice and losing your grasp on self-control all the while.

“Are you tired?” Remus asks, and you don’t know how you didn’t notice it before, that extra bit of roughness that his voice takes on after he’s been smoking. You’re so envious you could die. “You seem distracted.”

“I’m good,” you murmur. Though perhaps it’d be better if you did take a nap or something. You’re beginning to feel twitchy. You take in a breath through your nose like you’ve been practicing, letting it out through your mouth.

“Ah.” Sirius scoots closer to you, laying his cheek on the couch cushion. “You want to have a piece of your gum, sweet thing?”

You look at him guiltily. Remus makes a soft sound of realization.

“You’re picking your nails,” Sirius explains, and you look down to see that you are. “I imagine that means you’re craving one.”

It’s simultaneously sweet and irksome that none of your boyfriends will even say the word cigarette around you anymore. They’re trying to be considerate, you know, but it feels like they think your self-control is so tenuous that just one word could shatter it. You don’t have the heart to tell them.

“Sorry,” you mumble, getting the pack of gum out of your pocket. Just the act of unwrapping a stick makes you feel instantly better. “I guess I was thinking I wouldn’t need it anymore.”

“Don’t be sorry,” James says lightly. “I don’t imagine it’s easy, sweetheart, you shouldn’t feel bad about using something to cope. It’s not like having gum hurts anything.”

You hum, then turn to Remus sheepishly. “I’m really sorry, do you think you might be able to change?” He looks confused. “Your sweater smells like cigarettes,” you explain.

James gasps as though scandalized and Remus swears, grabbing the neckline of his sweater and tugging it off. He tosses it into the hall.

“M’sorry, dove.” He takes your head between his hands, mushing a kiss into your hair. He’s now bare-chested, and you laugh at the dramatics, totally unexpected from him. “I didn’t realize. Is it better now?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

He drops another kiss on your head, remorseful. “Alright, I’ll go grab something else to wear,” he says, starting to stand. Both Sirius and James protest loudly.

“I think what you’re wearing now looks great,” says James.

“Yeah,” Sirius seconds, “stay in that.”

Remus looks down at his shirtless torso, raising an eyebrow at the other boys. You can see the amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Really?” he asks.

“Come on, it’s not like the fucking Pope’s coming over,” Sirius says, looking well below your boyfriend’s eyes with unabashed enthusiasm. “Tell him, gorgeous.”

Remus turns his gaze on you. You curl in on yourself slightly, shrugging your shoulders. “This is the best distraction I’ve had all day,” you say quietly, and James’ laughter booms off the walls.

“Fair enough.” Remus rolls his eyes, grinning as he sits back down on the couch beside you. You get comfy like you were against his side, now smelling only him. He drapes his arm across your back, settling a hand on your hip. “The lows I stoop to for you, hm?”

“If you’re not up to the task,” Sirius says, “just say the word. I’d be happy to take her off your hands.”

“Fuck off,” Remus says, and tugs you closer.

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caxde · 1 month

Text

bright eyes | eddie munson x reader

summary you're a new neighbour in the trailer park, you meet his friends, and go on a date to figure this out, navigating your relationship with him and his little girl (4.4k)

warnings fem!reader, girl!dad Eddie!!!!, fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn strangers to lovers, idiots in love!!!, , english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read!

a/n: thank you guys for the support, i think that for a while i'll just do drabbles of this story if requested so enjoy! part1 part2. part3 (they can be read seperatly)

“Hi, what can I get for you?” Both the phrase and your customer service voice came as second nature by now. Practice makes perfect you once heard.

“Hi, yeah… Um, do we know what they want?” The tall boy with floppy hair asked the girl following him, she agreed with a smile and he looked back at you. His face looked familiar, though you had never seen him come here before. “I’d like milk coffee, and uh.. what do you want?” He asked back at the girl, who had been grinning with a smirk that you weren’t quite sure if it was dedicated to you, or it was just a nervous reflex from her.

“I’ll have an iced tea, and a cinnamon bun.” She waited for you to write it down, before she continued, which you’d never admit out loud how frustrating it was, if they knew they were going to order more. “And uh, a large black coffee, with no sweetener and a chocolate milkshake with a… did she like scones or blueberry muffins?” She turned around to the wild haired boy, who had its eyes lost in the horizon. Something in you told you he was trying not to stare, and if you were being honest, you didn't know if that was a compliment or not.

“Muffin.” He muttered, as he scratched his closed eyes.

“Muffin.” She affirmed with a cheery tone.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.”

You placed the order under your waitress number. Lucky number 17, even if there only were two of you. You prepped the coffees with your usual care, enjoying both the process and the smell that filled the air. Two small plates with a paper napkin under each pastry. You wrote down where they were seated while you waited for the milkshake and the iced tea. You still didn’t dare to make them. You had tried, you just never managed the right balance between ice cream, milk and cocoa powder. You did have fun however with the whipped cream and the chocolate shavings. Mainly because it was an excuse for you to eat the chocolate that you didn’t grate.

The bell above the door rang and your attention turned to it. A wide smile appeared on your previously concentrated face.

It wasn’t strange considering Lua was running down the small entrance corridor so she could meet you, your body already kneeling down at the floor so she could greet you however she decided to.

“Hi dude! I didn’t know you were coming” Your voice got high in unexpected excitement as she hugged you in her particular way. “How are you doing?”

“Happy.” She beamed, her hand hiding her face in her usual shy manner she always had when she was someplace that wasn’t as familiar to her.

“I hope you are, you’re getting a milkshake.” Eddie followed her closely behind, offering his hand for her to take it, she did as soon as she heard the word milkshake. Jumping a bit, knowing that that was an unusual treat.

It clicked in that moment, where you knew that boy from. He was in a lot of the photos Eddie had laying around, some were in frames, some were laying around his coffee table.

Though you knew him as uncle Stevie, you doubted that was his name. And if that really was uncle Stevie, then the girl had to be auntie Rob. It would explain the weird energy they had while ordering, and the grins that they tried to hide.

“Chocolate?” She asked back, her head moved around the both of you, she had to look up now, both of you doing what you didn’t realise you always did. While your feet stayed separated, your bodies always found a way to get closer, your waist pushed forward, his arms did too.

“And a blueberry muffin.” You added, with glee. The contrast between the excitement coming from Lua and the exhausting anticipation coming off from Eddie was comical. He grabbed the skin between his eyes, knowing that this sugar rush was going to tire him out.

“She’s not gonna eat dinner.” He adds, in a somehow frustrated mumble, as he looks back up at you. “And Wayne made Spaghetti with tomato sauce… And garlic bread…” He was making that exaggerated whining voice he knew made you laugh.

“I can have the leftovers.” He smiled, even if he knew that that was what he originally wanted. Another quiet night with you, Wayne out at work and an exhausted Lua, the promise of some alone time with you.

“Deal.” He tried to mask his excitement, with his usual grin, the upside down smile that curved to the right, where his dimple was, and you just giggled back at him, with a scoff and a playful roll of your eyes.

“Your friends are over there, I’ll bring your stuff in a minute.” He winked as a form to say thank you, he swung his arms so his and Lua’s hands moved in a way that made her smile, as she squirmed as soon as she saw his friends.

“Stevie!” She screamed in midst of laughter, she waved him hi, as she walked to Robin’s feet.

“Hey Lua.” Robin’s enthusiastic way of calling her name won her a high five, which she used to tease Steve. “I got a high five.” She sang her works in a mocking manner, knowing that Stevie would push her shoulder with his, she ducked a bit, the playful manner making Eddie smile.

“Hello to you too.” Eddie teased back, sitting down on a chair, helping Lua get up to the one next to him. He had forgotten to ask you for a booster, but nodded in an attempt to say thank you as he saw you approaching the table, milkshake in one hand, booster in the other.

“I’ll be right back with the rest of your order.” Your customer service voice becomes a bit more informal everytime you lock eyes with him, the stupid pink flush coming to your cheeks as he just smiled, his friends looking at him with a cheeky grin.

“Is that her?” Robin wasted no time, her hands on the table, and body pushed a bit too forward.

“Jesus! We said we were gonna be subtle.” Steve pushed her back into the chair, the softness of his gesture contradicted his harsh inane tone.

“What? She can be the rude one…”

“C’mon Eddie wouldn’t fall for the rude waiter.”

You heard that, and you weren’t sure what to believe. Were you the rude waiter? Did Eddie actually fall for you? And what does that even mean? You decide to act as if you hadn’t noticed, as if it didn’t really matter. You placed everything in front of who asked for it, but that comment was still on the front of your mind. You didn’t think you had been that rude, it was your eight hour of work, and you were leaving soon so you were exhausted, and maybe that had come out as rude, but still, it kind of hurts knowing that someone might think you are. Even worse if that someone is the best friend of the guy you had a stupid crush on.

Then there was the whole fall issue. Had that been just a poor choice of words? Probably. It had to be, because there was no way that Eddie had fallen, not really. Not in the scary four letter feelings. It was soon, way too soon. You hadn't even had an opportunity to go on that date that he had asked you on three weeks ago.

You were decidedly panicking, fidgeting with the blue pen you used to take orders. Your shift came to an end, and even if Eddie kept looking at you, waiting for you to come so he could actually introduce you to his friends, or alternatively he was trying to find a moment where he could stand up and go ask you if you wanted to meet them, he looked back and you weren’t there this time.

You were having a stress relief smoke that you’ll never admit to once he inevitably asks you about. You can’t think about it, you want to go home, have a shower and stop thinking.

So you did.

Eddie was worried about you, but he was a little too preoccupied with the little tornado in front of him. The sugar rush had hit as soon as he stepped into the trailer. She had been playing “the floor is lava”, placing everything and anything on her way so she wouldn’t actually fall. Once she got tired of it, she started playing house with dolls and teddys she had, now scattered around everywhere. She eventually got tired of that and just danced around to music that for once he could choose, until she passed out, the sugar crush came as fast as the rush had.

Quiet for once, Eddie let out a long exhausted breath, before picking her up. He enjoyed picking her up, knowing that the day would come when he wouldn’t be able to do it anymore. She was already with her stolen sleepshirt that she begged to put on as soon as they had arrived. So he put her hair up in a small ponytail, and left her to rest on her small bed, in the same room as he slept.

Someday, when he has more money, more security in himself, he would get a nice place. A house with an extra room so someone can come and sleepover. A house that had their own garden, so she can run around without Eddie having to watch over her anxiously, worried that she somehow stumbled over into the woods, or found trash that didn’t belong in a play area for such a small girl.

That was the goal.

The long term one anyway. Right now he focused on cleaning the mess her little sunshine had made. His hair out of the way, he quietly got into it. The cushions, blankets and -previously- folded laundry was out of the way, the toys were sorted, and the remains of her laughter could still be felt on the walls.

Something was missing. And that was you. And the promise that you had made to come over and have dinner.

So the worrying came back.

Doubt invaded his mind. He didn’t want to bother you, maybe you just forgot. Maybe you had fallen asleep. Maybe you had had enough of him.

But for once, he decided to trust his intuition, and if something deep in his gut told him that it wasn’t okay, he trusted it. He had to.

So he checked that Lua was still sleeping soundly, and he rushed to your door. The frown between his eyebrows appeared once again when he realised that your light wasn’t on. He knocked, slowly, not even realising that he was biting his lower lip, or that he was playing with his rings.

The light didn’t come on, but you did.

The faintest trace of runned down mascara was under your eyes. If that didn’t give away the fact you had been crying a bit, your red runny nose did.

A wave of guilt filled him, though he wasn’t sure why or what to do.

Truth be told, it wasn’t his fault, not really. You just had a tendency to overthink it all. And a weakness for words of people you didn’t know.

the mean one had followed you since you had gotten home. It was stupid, and definitely not that big of a deal, but it had bugged you enough that you had a breakdown nonetheless.

Maybe it was just one more thing that had sent you over the edge, that coupled with the fact that you had your insecurities over not feeling enough for him, or his little girl.

“What happened?” His voice came out softer, lower, imploring for an answer.

“Nothing, long day.” Eddie could tell that you were lying through your teeth. And you knew that he knew by the way his body reacted. Arms crossed through his chest in a self-defense movement he still conserved.

“I’m gonna heat up dinner. If you want some you can come.” You couldn’t decode if his tone was regretful or resentful, but his eyes shined with hope that’d you’d come, so you nodded.

“Give me a second?” He mouthed a muted yeah, as he turned around, his feet skipping the ground in a nervous manner.

Maybe they didn’t mean for you to hear it. Maybe it had been a joke that you had the misfortune to hear. But it still stings, so you switch your uniform for something comfier.

Those jean were barely hanging on by a threat, the seam on the inside of your thighs had started to open in some points, and they didn’t fit you as snuggly as they once did, but they were the comfiest they have ever been, and the most comforting ones -oddly enough- so was the black shirt that had been previously splattered with bleach. It didn’t really matter to Eddie, he still thought you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

He was trying not to show his worry, but he wasn’t that good at it. He was quiet, which he never was, and he couldn’t stop playing with his rings.

He sat down on the stool, right in front of you, the kitchen aisle separating you both.

“Okay look...” You broke the silence. His fork clinging on the cold surface makes your attention shift into it. “I had a little cry over some stupid shit, but I’m fine.” You take a sip out of your water, looking back into his questioning eyes.

“You want to talk about it?” Eddie tries to get more information out of you. His expression softer, caring deeply for you.

“It’s stupid. Honestly.” You try to brush it off, playing with your food in a lazy manner with your fork, avoiding his stare. Because you know that if you do look at him, you’d crumble.

“I don’t care, I like listening to you.” His voice was deeper when he was mid bite, but his world made you fold, and you give in.

“I overheard your friends…” You think he might say something, but he just stays quiet, an embarrassed expression on his face. “They said that you fell for ‘the mean one’” You add, drawing air quotes with your fork still in your hand.

“Jesus…” He added in disbelief. His head was buried in the palm of his hands.

“I know it’s dumb I just… I told you I don’t know how to go around this whole thing and your friends saying that it's just-” He cut you off, even if he didn’t mean to, he knew you were rumbling when it was all a misunderstanding.

“It’s not dumb it’s just… They weren’t talking about you.” Your eyes widened in embarrassed shame. “They were saying that they were glad I didn’t fall for the mean one. They’re happy I have a thing for you, and not Brittany.”

“oh”

“Yeah, they like you. I think. And we met up in the café because they wouldn’t agree to babysit Lua so I can go on a date with you if they didn’t meet you first but I didn’t wanna make it a big deal so…”

“oh”

“Yeah…”

The type of silence had changed. He had that dumbfounded, love-sick smile on his face. Your eyes were shining and your cheeks had become red. His hand was caressing yours, the soft touch invading you with a sense of calmness and warmness. Your lips curled upwards, some of your teeth showing.

“So we’re going on a date?”

“Next Friday, if that works for you.”

“It does.”

“Good.” Amusement clear on his tone, his dimples showing as he went back to eating. His hand not letting go of yours. “Now, finish eating.”

“I will, but I need my hand.” He chuckled with you as he slowly pulled away.

“Okay, sorry.”

“Idiot…” You sentenced before going back to eating. His amusement makes you smile deeper.

“Suddup, you like it.”

For once, Eddie let you help clean up in the kitchen.

After the conversation and the quiet dinner it was hard trying to keep away from him. It felt like magnetism.

And he couldn’t keep resisting you for that long. You were cleaning the dishes, whilst he dried them. His waist bumped into yours every so often with the excuse of dancing to the low music, not wanting to wake Lua up.

“This has to be Led’s best song” He mumbled, watching as you silently mouthed the lyrics.

“Their most popular, maybe… Best one? No way.” You shook your head in disbelief that he would say such a thing, hearing him chuckle at your reaction.

“What do you mean? It’s literally rock history! Jimmy Page’s solo has become one of the most famous ones” He tried to fight back with you, as you continued to smile in disagreement. You stopped the water, looking him dead in the eyes, seeing the way his smile only grew fonder, his usual grin present in his face.

“Sure, Stairway to Heaven had like a huge cultural impact and blablabla but c’mon… Dazed and Confused? Immigrant Song? Black Dog? Tangerine? You Shook Me? You want to talk about guitar solos… Achilles Last Stand has some of the most incredible ones” You argued back, he was impressed, but he was not used to losing, even less so when it came to music.

“Achilles Last Stand is a ten minute song, that’s too long…” You chuckled at that, his eyebrows raising as he looked deep into your half closed eyes from your laughter. “What?”

“If you think ten minutes is too much… We’re gonna have a problem.”

He laughed in deep shock from your words, making you giggle a bit more as a reaction. He didn’t think about what he was doing, he just had an impulse and followed through. His arms wrapped around you, pushing you in for a deep hug, your head hitting his chest, as your arms find a way in his waist.

Eddie gave the best hugs, you thought. This being your first one, you were over observant. His fingers were buried deep in your hair, playing with it. His chest was softer than you had expected. And even if his house smelt of sandalwood and the faint smell of the food you had just eaten, he smelt of aftershave, shampoo and a trace of car grease. You closed your eyes, enjoying it all.

Eddie couldn’t resist the urge to kiss the top of your head. Or let his forehead rest on yours, enjoying the closeness he got to experience. He hadn’t been this close to anyone since before Lua came around. And he wasn’t used to this nervousness or excitement, this electricity with the way your breath mixed with his.

You pulled away a bit, close enough to still count his eyelashes if you wanted to, far away enough that nothing else could happen. You had to be careful, you had agreed to be careful until you could figure it out.

“Moon I…”

“I know.” He whispered back, his left hand cupping your cheek, his thumb caressing it slowly.

You heard the small steps coming from Eddie’s room, Lua had woken up and was looking for him.

“Dada?” She sounded half asleep, with a small panic in her voice.

“Coming.” He added, a frustrated look on his face, his tone remaining calm. He kissed your hand before stepping back. “Duty calls. See you friday?”

“Yes, tell Lua I said goodnight? You asked back, finding your way to the front door.

“Definitely. Sweet dreams princes.”

“Night, moon.”

You closed his trailer door as you saw him walking the corridor where his room was, the little night light giving you a little inside to what his room and his usual nights looked like.

You went to bed that night with a lovesick smile on your lips and hoping that Friday came soon enough.

Friday came faster than both of you had anticipated. You got the whole day to yourself, the morning was slow, and Eddie let you sleep for once, they didn’t come over for breakfast. You wouldn’t admit it, but you had missed them, and Lua’s happy mumbling as she ate whatever you had made. Since it was only you, the bowl of cereal had lasted you until lunch, you just picked at it every time you felt hungry, amidst various house chores.

Clothes were cleaned.

Floors were mopped.

Bathroom was shining.

With a clean bathroom, you stared at yourself in the mirror. It had been two months since you met him, and your smile lines had come back. Your hair had become lighter from the sun, and your eyes shone again. You felt pretty, and you couldn’t wipe the lovesick smile out of your lips if you thought of him.

The water was hot, and it helped your body relax. You were starting to get that nervous excitement, before a date. A date with someone you actually (really) like.

When the time came, you crossed the road, knocking gently on his door, your hands playing with the hem of your dress.

Eddie got choked up as soon as he saw you. The black dress hugged you in a way he wished he could, your legs looked longer and he could get lost in them, even if they were hidden under black tights. But he really got lost in your lips, and the red that you layered over them.

“Hi.” Your voice came out shyer that you intended to. But your smile remained the same.

“Hi…” He couldn’t really form a sentence, his words seemed to be stucked in his throat. “You look amazing, jesus…”

“I could say the same.” He shook his head in disbelief, not really believing you.

He stood there in his usual white shirt and leather jacket, though this time his washed out jeans switched for black jeans that hugged his thighs in a way that made your head swing.

“I uh… I’m going to say bye to Lua, then we can leave.” You nodded, and peered inside for a moment.

Lua was playing on his living room floor, Robin and Steve by her side. He kissed her daughter’s cheek and whispered something that you didn’t catch, his friends waved at you, Robin mouthed a silent wow as she gave you a thumbs up that made you giggle on the inside.

The dinner was finished, and you had downed a couple bottles of wine. You ended up walking for a bit, before deciding to put an end to the night, the stars shining bright.

Eddie had done everything right. He had paid the bill, he opened the doors for you and made an effort to get to know you better. His eyes shining with every word that came out of your lips. He was definitely enamored by you, and the same could be said by you. His hand had not let go of yours since you had left the small restaurant.

His thumb played with the back of your hand, sending sparks through your whole body. You played with his rings, which only made him smile more. He told you that it was the only thing he ever bought for himself. Every year when his age changed, he’d get a new one. “Maybe you’ll get me one” You had teased back, which made him chuckle as he nodded.

His van parked behind his house, his fingers still intertwined with yours. You sat on the back of it for a while, looking at the sky in comfortable silence for a bit.

Eddie’s heart was racing, he couldn’t look at anything but you. You and the way your skin looked under the moonlight, you and the way your eyes looked at the moon. You and your red lips that he really wanted to taste.

You noticed.

Your head left his shoulder, so you could look at him. His breathing mixes with yours, your chest moving faster as your breathing quickened. His eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips, his trembling hand came up to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing your lower lip, asking for permission.

You were the one to break the distance.

In a swift movement, your lips pressed against his. Your heart felt at peace once you did. As if something had finally clicked, something was finally right. He smiled through the kiss as it grew deeper. He kissed you as if you were air and he was drowning. He had been dreaming of this since the moment he first saw you. And he finally got to kiss you, as much as he desired to.

Before pulling away, his teeth caught your lower lip. He was smiling like an idiot, his nose touching yours.

“We should…” You tried to be the voice of reason, knowing that you both had work tomorrow and he had someone to take care of on top of that.

“I know I just… I’ve been waiting for this for a while.” He admitted with glee before kissing you again, giggling in between kisses. His hand getting lost in your hair.

“I know.” It didn’t help that your tone came out in a more intimate matter that you intended to, the wine working its magic for the both of you.

“Do you wanna talk about it tomorrow?” He offered, thinking that you would need time to think things over.

“There’s nothing to think.” You admitted, determination in your voice. “This makes sense. If you’re okay with it I… We could try it? Maybe?”

Eddie couldn’t contain his happiness, kissing you senseless until his breath ran out.

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

“I can call you my girlfriend and everything?” He teased, a stupid grin on his face that drove you crazy, your head shaking as your smile gre big enough that your teeth showed.

“Girlfriend and everything.” You confirmed.

This time you were the one kissing him, your hands lost in his hair, pulling him in a bit more than he had dared to.

He walked you to your door even if nothing could happen to you, and kissed you goodnight for the first time. And his friends teased him and celebrated with him when he walked in with red lipstick on his lips.

He went to bed that night, knowing that things could only get better from now on.

if you enjoyed it please leave a comment or reblog. i promise it makes a huge difference <3

requests! are open

@took-me-hours-to-steal-those @edens-vices-art @micheledawn1975 @peachystenbrough @mewchiili @bylermaxmayfield @yujyujj @honeymoonmunsonn @paleidiot @ali-r3n @sunshineandwitchery @supernaturalstilinski @womencriedpower @saramelaniemoon @cultish-corner @babyloutattoo89 @witchwolflea @serenadingtigers @readergf

part 3 is up, thank for the support dudes <3

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ma1dita · 8 months

Text

it will pass

part two can be found here -> without a doubt

words: little under 2k

summary: Without a doubt, James Potter loves you. But he’s not in love with you.

warnings: none! fem!reader; i would die for best friend!james, did not demonize lily; angst, unrequited love, lil childhood speech impediment, cheesy nicknames, sharing clothes, will they wont they (they wont im sorry)

a/n: guess who just rewatched fleabag szn 2! i chose pain today sorry— god i missed writing. i am a words of affirmation gorl pls affirm me

(posted 9/8/23)

—

There isn’t a single doubt that James Potter loves you.

You’ve been attached at the hip since training broomsticks and pinky swears in Godric’s Hollow. You accidentally call a boy ‘Jam’ once because of your childhood speech apraxia, and he swears you’re meant to be his best friend.

“Don’t worry, I can be loud enough for the both of us, peanut!”

Like peanut butter and jelly, you two were a perfect match– and even better partners in crime. When James puts his mind to something, he sees it through. So even if you were honestly unable to string the words together, who were you to say no?

Technically it’s somewhat official too, by whatever imaginary power was bestowed upon the Potter’s house elf for your very elaborate backyard fantasy wedding the two of you had when you were seven. All of your parents were in attendance, along with your cat and you all had blueberry cupcakes after your first and only kiss.

“Miss Mippy pronounces you huzbind and wife!”

Giggles are heard all around as the tiny elf tripped on her way off the stool, knocking both your heads together. James lost a front tooth that day, but he grinned for the pictures your mothers took anyway. Without a doubt, he loves you.

—

There wasn’t anyone at Hogwarts who would expect one of you to be present without the other following behind. You never had to hold back your smart mouth because James was always willing to finish your fights. The both of you were a package deal, with your number of protectors growing once Remus, Sirius, and Peter came along. It was not a routine you both consciously established, but rather second nature to be in each other’s lives. Like how you always made sure his glasses were clean before quidditch matches and he’d chuck his extra jersey at your face for you to wear.

“Stay warm during the game okay? I’ll see you later, love you!”

He skated around your waist, blowing a raspberry onto your cheek as he grabbed his glasses from your fingers.

“Don’t fall off your broom. Love you too, loser.” You’re already tugging his jersey over your head, inhaling his signature scent of broom polish, cinnamon, and Sleakeasy’s hair potion.

James smiled at you softly, before running to meet up with his team. After Gryffindor won again, he threw you over his shoulder and you laughed and yelled that he smelled like sweat. He always tucked you in his bed after parties, wrapping you in his arms once the lights go out. Without a doubt, he loves you.

—

Your friendship is stronger than most romantic relationships, and as your teenage years fly by, both of you realize how rare that is. He often took you to the kitchens to eat vanilla sundaes after boys broke your heart (and they got black eyes to match, courtesy of him and the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team) and you would listen to him, building him up and calming him down through years of pining over a certain Lily Evans. You were there for each other through everything, silly crushes, secret trysts, boring detentions, and highly esteemed accolades. If there ever were such a thing as soulmates, you knew it had to be him, even if it was platonic. Just being around someone as vibrant as James made you consider yourself lucky.

You once saw your best friend with his head in his hands on your way to a date—he was moping after a nasty prank on Snape went wrong; it ended in Lily crying and after defending her albeit quite boisterously in true James fashion, he still didn’t get the girl.

He gets up to see you walking down the corridor to meet him halfway, and before you even speak he rubs his eyes, posture shrinking as his towering frame melts into your embrace.

“Don’t know why I thought it’d be different this time,” he mumbles, and you gladly carry the weight of his heart.

“Let’s go swimming in the Black Lake, ” you say suddenly, rubbing his broad back in small circles.

“But peanut, you have a date in an hour! You’re all dolled up and pretty...”

“I’ll have more dates. You need me right now, jelly. I’ve got you.” His nickname makes you blush a little more than you should sometimes, so you only ever pull it out as a trick up your sleeve to make him feel better.

“Love you,” you whisper, brushing through the hair at the nape of his neck.

He breathes easily for the first time in hours, mouth curling up from its frown when he sees you walk straight into the lake water with your nicest clothes on, not even hesitating for a moment. Without a doubt, he loves you.

—

When James puts his mind to something, he sees it through. So years later, when your best friend asks you if you could go wedding ring shopping with him to propose to the love of his life, who were you to decline? I mean, who else would go with him?

“Come on, (Y/N). I need my best girl with me to make the biggest decision of my life.” he’s practically moaning, the man ever so dramatic as he’s sprawled across your couch.

“And why aren’t you dragging Sirius with you again?”

Your eyebrow is raised as you stand at his feet, lifting his burly legs for you to place yourself under and get comfortable.

“What does Sirius know about women? He’d tell me to get the shiniest one and leave!” James’ yells into your throw pillow, anguished at the thought. You pull it off his face, before he quietly admits, “I just want to get it right.”

“When are we going?” you answer, without missing a beat.

Later that week, the saleslady recommends a wide array of glimmering engagement bands, none of which are for you. But you let yourself fall into the fantasy of the what-ifs, flashing back to your flower crown and candy ring wedding, wondering if it could’ve been you getting proposed to by him in another life.

“Would you like to try a few on?” the saleslady asks, assuming you two are together.

“Show me and my girl your best. No price limit.” he grins.

And how dare she assume that, as he puts his head on your shoulder, whisking you around the store to look at stunning rings, fingers brushing, and the both of you being able to communicate clearly with no words spoken. James plays along with the saleslady, finally choosing a whimsical-looking diamond setting placed upon your left ring finger. You remind yourself it’s not yours. Your heart comes to a screeching halt and you can’t help but feel all of a sudden like he’s being mean.

After all, he’s not yours, not really.

There is a little bit of doubt now and a weird tightness in your chest that makes you think of the possibility that you’re in love with James Potter.

—

Like a good best friend, you help him plan his proposal. James’ love is loud, pulling all the stops, and preferring the grandest of gestures.

“James, you are not proposing to Lily with a flash mob.”

“But it would be so cool! After all, my heart dances every time I see her face.” he wiggles his eyebrows as he takes a sip of his butterbeer.

“Your heart might, but you, unfortunately, are the worst dancer I’ve ever seen.” You laugh, reaching over to tug the quill out of his hand, crossing it off his list. He pulls you into a headlock, kissing the side of your face teasingly.

“What would I ever do without you, peanut?”

You wipe James’ spit off your cheek, pushing his face away, blushing from his attention.

“Combust, probably.”

Your heart is dancing now too, and you realize that there isn’t a single doubt that you’re in love with your best friend.

—

You keep yourself busy in the month before his proposal. It hurt learning too many details, such as what flowers he wanted to order to bring out her eyes (pink and yellow tulips), and scouting out the perfect location on the beach he picked (next to the lighthouse you and him visited as kids), even down to how he’d convince Lily to wear white without being suspicious (honestly he just expected you to do him a favor for this one). But after seeing each other almost every day for more than half your life, he knew something was off when you became distant.

James shows up at your apartment, his key in hand, but he decides to knock anyway. The sound of the TV is muffled, lowering in volume until he hears your footsteps pad over to the door and it swings open. You’re in one of his old Quidditch sweaters and fluffy blue socks.

“Hey. Wasn’t expecting you to come by.” You smile timidly, as he leans against the doorframe peering down at you.

“Never used to have to tell you.”

“James...” you stutter, before awkwardly opening the door completely. He shuffles towards the couch, keeping his shoes on as he sits at the end, and there’s a certain tension in the air that frightens you. You’re not sure if you’ll come out of this one unscathed.

“Talk to me (Y/N). What’s been going on with you? You don’t answer my calls, you don’t write back, hell, I haven’t seen you in a month because you started deadbolting your door. Did I do something?”

Yes, James Potter. Ever so blunt and to the point, your favorite person in the world is sitting on your couch uncomfortable with the fact that you’re not comfortable around him anymore.

You fight back against your instincts to tell him what’s wrong, but the three words escape your mouth before you can even take a breath.

“I love you.”

It’s silent. The floor creaks as you shift your weight onto your other leg. You lock eyes with him for the first time that night, and so many things are going through your head that you hope he’s able to pick up on how you’ve been physically aching, carrying the weight of his love for Lily for years.

James looks like he’s about to shake his head, and you beat him to it. You don’t want pity, and he knows that, but he mutters a consolation into the air.

“It’ll pass.”

No, it won’t. Not this.

You think he knows that too. He smiles sadly, watching you turn shrinking into yourself. You never were good at thinking before you spoke. A tear drips down your cheek as you look at your socks again. Your love for him is too big and too loud for your chest cavity to handle. This love feels like dramatic choral music clashing and banging around in your ribs.

“I’m—”

“Don’t apologize. This one’s on me,” you say, stopping him before he finishes speaking.

Without a doubt, James Potter loves you. But he’s not in love with you.

“What I was going to say...is that I’m going to have to ask you not to show up to the engagement party. It’ll be better for the both of us. We can start again from there if you want... Peanut...”

The term of endearment hangs in the air. Your dancing heart was a ticking time bomb after all. The fragments hit your insides, tearing you apart as it combusts, and you realize that nothing will be the same after this.

James stands abruptly, shoving his hands in his pockets. He hesitates before he kisses your temple, and for some reason, this feels like a goodbye. After all, when James sets his mind on something, he sees it through. He’s been set on Lily for years.

You’re his best friend, he swears. And there are no words you can think of to deny that.

—

The End

“I don’t know what to say,” he said.

“It’s okay,” she replied. “I know what

we are— and I know what we’re not.”

Lang Leav

#james potter x reader #marauders era #james potter x y/n #james potter x reader angst #marauders x reader #james potter x you #best friend!james potter #made by ma1dita ♥︎#james potter x fem!reader #mischiefmoons iwp

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kazvha · 2 months

Text

WHAT THE GENSHIN BOYS SMELL LIKE

Including: Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Freminet, Gaming, Gorou, Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Kaveh, Kazuha, Lyney, Neuvillette, Tartaglia, Thoma, Tighnari, Venti, Wanderer, Wriothesley, Xiao, Zhongli

Notes: These are just personal headcanons, don't take these too seriously🥴 Enjoy!!💛

ALBEDO

• I think he smells like nothing most of the time

• You only feel cold air when you stand next to him because he's in Dragonspine a lot

• Subtle notes of charcoal which he uses as an art tool or of strong chemicals cling onto him on some days

ALHAITHAM

• I also don't think he smells like anything on most days, maybe only like the fresh clothes he's wearing

• Though he has a faint scent of coconut to him. It could be the shampoo or the skin care products he's using, but it's mostly because of his body lotion

AYATO

• His hair always smells like the shampoo he uses. So sugary and sweet, like vanilla cake or bubblegum

• But for his body and clothes he uses expensive clean and powdery fragrances

• Quite the combo, I must say💀 Strange, just like his taste in food

BAIZHU

• Smells like expensive bar soap. A mix of aloe vera and ginger

• Also smells kinda sour because of the herbs he works with

CYNO

• Smells like pure white musk which smells great

• But it can be quite intense on some days when he decides to go overboard with his sprays

• He's sweating at the end of the day but the smell is subtle

DAINSLEIF

• He smells like the environment he was in. Often it's nature. Every now and then he smells like the rain too

• Also smells kinda dusty, like that basement smell you know? People either love it or hate it.

DILUC

• He smells warm and homely. Notes of cedar, sandalwood, or cinnamon

• But you'd have to stand really close to him to smell anything, his coat kinda dulls the scent

• Of course, he always smells like the vineyard and grapes during the harvest

FREMINET

• Smells fresh like bar soap. It's almost unnoticeable. It has a light scent of baby powder

• His clothes smell like chamomile because of the fabric softener he uses

GAMING

• This fella smells like cocoa butter because he uses it as body lotion

• I can also imagine that he carries an aroma of caramel/burnt sugar

• Bro eats so much dim sum, he often smells like the food he ate

GOROU

• I don't think he has a particular scent

• But his home/room smells like cinnamon, cloves, and oranges. The scent kinda rubs off on him

HEIZOU

• He wears body mists with floral notes. His favorites are maybe roses, lavender, or honeysuckle

• He likes to keep a little lavender sachet in his closet, so his clothes also smell like flowers

ITTO

• Idk, he probably smells like someone who's outside a lot. He has that outside smell, you know what I mean?

• He probably wears a musky fragrance, but it usually mixes with his sweat

KAEYA

• My bro is using all sorts of Arabian oils and fragrances. He has some with the notes of oud, musk, amber, and much more. Kaeya has a whole collection

• He smells divine and he knows it because people compliment him every day

• But like Venti, he drinks a lot, so his scent mixes with the wine odor

KAVEH

• Kaveh likes to wear fruity, tropical fragrances because he's always craving chilled fruits, especially on days that are hotter than usual.

• They also remind him of the days on which he sat in front of his house with his parents and ate watermelons

• Also has an alcohol odor sometimes like his fellas in Mondstadt

KAZUHA

• He uses a fabric softener because he likes his clothes to be extra comfortable. That's why he often smells like fresh laundry

• Because he spends a lot of his free time in nature, he probably also smells like grass or firewood

LYNEY

• Berries. He always smells like berries.

• He won't tell you what his secret is

• You guess every product he uses has the scent of berries. His bodywash, his shampoo, his body lotion, his deodorant, his fabric softener, the candle in his room, his lip balm, etc. Even his toothpaste...

NEUVILLETTE

• This sir smells like the ocean. Like the sea breeze. Like water itself.

• Yeah, he likes expensive-smelling aquatic colognes. Though occasionally he also uses citrusy perfumes

TARTAGLIA

• Something tells me that he either smells like expensive aquatic fragrances

• Or he smells like an old lady mixed with the aroma of nature, grass, firewood, animals, etc.

THOMA

• He probably likes to wear sweet scents like tonka bean and honey

• Or even perfumes with fruity notes like peach or pear

TIGHNARI

• You can't tell me this guy doesn't smell like herbs, plants, flowers and stuff

• Idk, when I think of him I think of eucalyptus

VENTI

• He would smell quite fresh and idk, breezy?

• Like a fresh breath of air in spring if you know what I mean

• But since he's drunk most of the time the overbearing odor of wine sticks to him

WANDERER

• Nahida gifted him a citrus perfume and he has been using it ever since

• He likes bitter smells too, so he bought himself bitter perfumes with bergamot, bitter orange, and grapefruit notes

WRIOTHESLEY

• I think he wears a perfume which has woody, earthy notes. Sometimes he has a fresh minty smell to him too

• When he fights the scents obviously mix with his sweat

• I also think a light scent of motor oil sticks to him

XIAO

• Most of the days he smells literally like nothing, or sweat. It's not overbearing though

• But there are some days on which he smells super sweet, like vanilla, cotton candy, a baked treat or something

• It's either because he ate those things or because he has body sprays with these scents. He won't tell you

ZHONGLI

• If you're standing close to him, you'll smell his pleasant cologne scent

• It could be musky or woody, but he usually wears floral scents like osmanthus

• His scent mixes with the aroma of tea leaves or herbs which he gets from wandering in the market and drinking tea the whole day

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multific · 5 months

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Modern Warfare Men with a Housewife - Preferences

Simon Riley, John MacTavish, John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Kyle Garrick, König x Fem! Reader

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

Simon Riley

The thought of going back home and you are just there is enough to keep him going for months.

He loved the idea of having someone home at all times, during the hard times, he would just need to imagine you in your shared house, curled up on the couch, watching a movie. It was enough for him.

But coming home and actually being there is everything.

He always gets this feeling in his stomach as he drives home, fear. The fear of finding an empty home or worse, a burnt-down home.

But each time, the house is still there, with you inside.

Each time you would run into his arms and kiss him. Each time you would tell him to eat something because you cooked.

Because of course, you cooked.

Johnny MacTavish

When you met Johnny you had a nice job, you were overly fond of it, but you did have one. But after your marriage, Johnny asked you to stay home. He explained he earned enough, you wouldn’t have to worry. He said it was so that he can be sure you are safe.

And how can you say no when he is asking so nicely?

You noticed just how much calmer he was after you agreed. But you also noticed that there was nothing to keep your mind truly busy when he wasn’t home.

You began to worry a lot for his safety and feared that any phone call or letter you received might be bad news.

But he always came home to you.

You even learned how to cook the dishes he enjoys the most. He would often call you “Little Wife” which was a very cute nickname, you thought.

Kyle Garrick

It wasn’t fully his idea for you to stay home and stop working. It just… happened.

He adopted a cat, which couldn’t be left alone while he was gone, then you got married and you quit your job which you hated.

But Kyle loved it.

You would send him pictures of you and your cat, Cinnamon.

Kyle loved to arrive home to a warm house and your smile.

John Price

John is a very cautious man.

He has probably five houses each location confidential, so much so, that you don’t even know half of their actual place.

But let’s be honest, he would be upfront and tell you that he wants you to stay home long before you marry him.

He would let you choose a house and give you everything you want.

John would come home to you, smelling of cigars, gunpowder and death.

But you never tell him that you know. You let him shower while you prepare a simple meal for him.

Alejandro Vargas

He probably has a huge family, I can see his mother being a housewife herself. So he wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of you being one, but if you want a job, he wouldn’t mind that either.

So when you ultimately decided to stay home, he wasn’t fully on board. He wanted you to have everything in his absence.

And when he was gone, he was worried, he hated to leave you alone. But it didn’t mean he wouldn’t be wearing his ring proudly. He was a proud husband, and you were hidden, even with the ring, no one would find you if anything happened.

But nothing ever did.

Alejandro always came home to you, asked you to join him in a hot bath, and neither of you would put on any clothes after.

König

He actually begged you to stay home and work from home. Later on, you decided to take over the house and became a full-on housewife.

He had a huge house even before you married him, so the home became your DIY project very early.

It did help to keep your mind off of him not being home, you always had a room to decorate, paint or rearrange to your liking. It became your project that each time he left, you did one room so that when he came home, he could be surprised.

König is a huge man with many years of experience in the military which did make him into a hard man.

But with you, he could be so soft and kind.

Much like how he was when he arrived home after every mission.

He loved to come home, seeing you sleeping in your bed or on the couch, it would fill him with warmth.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

In case you want to help out a dreamer: patreon.com/multific

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

#x reader #x female reader #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare imagine #modern warfare #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #kyle garrick x reader #john price x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #könig x reader #modern warfare fanfic #modern warfare two #modern warfare fanfiction #modern warfare x reader #modern warfare x you #simon riley x you

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roosterforme · 9 months

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The Younger Kind Part 22 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Now that Bradley has you with him, he never wants you to go. But the stress from Meredith and Penny still hangs between the two of you. And the only think that seems to make sense to Bradley could be taken from him.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, smut, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4800 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

You were finally in Bradley's arms. Aside from your hangover and banged up knee, you seemed no worse for the wear. Just a little shaken up from those assholes taunting you last night. As he leaned back against his headboard, you were curled up against his chest wearing his favorite sweatshirt.

"I love you," he whispered again, rubbing the bare skin of your back and waist beneath the sweatshirt. You hadn't returned the sentiment, but it didn't matter. You just snuggled a little closer to him every time he said it to you.

When your stomach growled, you looked up at him and laughed softly. "Come on," he said, kissing your forehead as he withdrew his hand from your soft skin. "I'll make you breakfast."

Now you were looking at him with concern as you straddled his thighs. "You'll make me breakfast? Sorry, but I'm not going to eat anything you cook."

Bradley tipped his head back and started laughing. "You got me there, Princess. But I can get you a bowl of cereal."

You just shook your head and slid off of his lap, taking his hand in yours. "I'll make you breakfast," you told him, looking back at him over your shoulder as he followed you down the hallway. He'd follow you anywhere today. Do anything you wanted to do. As long as you kept him with you.

He turned on the coffee maker and pulled two mugs down as you bent in front of the refrigerator. Your bare legs and his oversized sweatshirt made him feel weak. You handed him some eggs and the gallon jug of milk. "Do you have cinnamon?" you asked as he set the milk and eggs on the counter.

"You don't actually have to make me breakfast," he whispered as you kissed his chin.

"I'm hungry for French toast," you told him, so he located the cinnamon for you. Then he watched you work, helping with everything you asked him to. And when the kitchen smelled like cinnamon, and there were slices of bread sizzling on the stovetop, Bradley handed you a mug of coffee.

"Can you help me with something on my phone?" he asked softly, wrapping his arms around you from behind as you sipped your coffee and flipped a piece of bread.

You set down the mug that said Aviators Look Down on Others and glared at him over your shoulder. "If you ask me to delete another dating app, I will rage. Do you understand me?"

"It's not that," he promised.

"Well, then what can I help you with, old man?"

Bradley couldn't help but smile at your words as he ran his mustache along the side of your neck. "Help me change this." He tapped on your contact name which was still listed as Babysitter. He deleted that word as he let his chin rest on your shoulder, making sure you were looking at his phone. Then he typed out My Princess before he opened his photo gallery.

"It doesn't look like you need my help," you whispered as he scrolled through all of his pictures of you and Noah and the occasional one related to something at work. "Oh wait, yes you do," you said, pointing to the dirty pictures you had sent him. "You need to save those in a private folder, Daddy."

He was beyond delighted that you had just called him Daddy. "That's something else you can help me with," he murmured, scrolling further until he found the first selfie you sent to him. The one where you were wearing your purple crown. He set it at your contact photo and kissed your cheek

"Give me that," you told him after you flipped the pieces of French toast again. He handed you his phone and watched you move all the dirty photos he loved so much into a new folder that you labeled Princess. "And you can enter the passcode when you want to look at them," you said as you saved today's date as the four digit code.

"Why did you make it today's date?" he asked as you spun to face him and pressed his phone to his chest. He grabbed it as you let go and wrapped your arms around his neck. You kissed him hard, devouring his mouth as you sighed softly. Bradley tossed his phone onto the counter next to the mugs and let his hands slide up your sides beneath his soft sweatshirt.

"Because," you told him between kisses, running your fingers up into his hair and looking him in the eye. "Today's the day you told me you love me."

"Baby," he moaned against your lips, reaching behind you to turn off the stove burners.

You kept your body snug against his, even when you let your hands trail down to the bottom of his undershirt and whispered, "Daddy."

You peeled his shirt off, finally letting him feel your hands everywhere. "Please. Let me take you back to bed." He had never been intimate with you there, but he'd been dreaming about it for a long time. Hell, last night was the first time you and he had a real sleepover. The first time he got to hold you all night.

Immediately you started pushing him toward the hallway, and he hoisted you up into his arms as you squeaked. "I got you," he promised.

-------------------------

There had to be something wrong with you, because you couldn't physically stop smiling. Bradley had taken you to his bed, set you down gently right in the middle of it, and started kissing you everywhere. His sweatshirt was pushed up to your breasts, his big hands squeezing your sides while he kissed the spot just below your belly button.

You were panting softly, and you could tell how wet you were by the way your lace underwear clung to you. But he seemed to be in no hurry, so you just let him keep it up. Lips and mustache found your injured knee, and he kissed all around the bandage before gently guiding your leg over his shoulder.

"I've been dreaming about this," he whispered against your inner thigh. When his fingers teased along the elastic of your underwear, you thought he was going to remove them, but he just kept driving you crazy instead.

A soft laugh bubbled out of your lips. "You dreamed about rescuing me from frat boys and having your way with me?"

"No," he grunted, easing his large body over yours, while you kept your leg on his shoulder. You could feel his hard cock rub your core through both of your underwear, and you pressed up against him. "I dream about having you in my bed. Having you all to myself. Don't get me wrong, I love sharing you with Noah," he mumbled, pushing the sweatshirt up and palming your tits with his massive hands. "But when you're like this, you're all mine."

As your back arched off the bed, Bradley's lips met your nipple, kissing and caressing you like nobody else ever had. "Daddy," you whispered before your eyes fluttered closed.

"All mine," he muttered, licking the valley between your breasts before sucking on one nipple and then the other.

You cried out for him, your hands grabbing at his biceps and shoulders before threading through his messy curls.

"You're so fucking sensitive, Princess."

You definitely were for him. Because he knew how to touch you. He knew how to love you. He was good at all of it.

"Bradley?" you gasped after he had worked your nipples into tender peaks. He whispered your name, the bristles of his mustache rubbing you just right. You were clenching around nothing. He hadn't even undressed you yet. And now you were in trouble, because he could tell how far gone you were as he whispered your name over and over again.

You rubbed yourself up against his cock as he pressed his lips to your ear and moaned, "I love you, Princess. I love you."

There was little doubt in your mind that you could cum for him just like this. He loved you. And you loved him.

You were soaking wet as he slipped his hand inside your underwear and groaned. "You make me insane," he informed you gruffly, wasting no time before slipping his middle finger inside you.

"Bradley!" you cried as he stroked your clit with his thumb and fucked you with one, thick digit until you were propping yourself up on your elbows to get to his lips. You kissed him, and he devoured every noise you made. "I'm so close, Daddy." When you let your head tip back, his mouth found your breasts again. You were close to overstimulation as he removed his finger from inside you and rubbed his fingertips across your clit until you were nearly crying.

It took you a second to realize that your legs were shaking as he sucked on your breasts. You were about to cum as soft grunts mixed with your deep, erratic breathing. "Oh," you gasped, and then he was mashing his lips to yours, pushing you back against the pillow. "I'm coming," you whined into his mouth.

Then you were shaking everywhere, his fingers slowing down and applying less pressure until you moaned his name so loudly, you should have been embarrassed. Your panties were absolutely soaked, and it felt like you were laying in a puddle as Bradley tapped your clit with his fingertips.

When you met his eyes and saw the desire there, you knew what had happened. "Did I squirt again?" you asked softly as you caught your breath. Bradley brought his damp hand up to his own mouth and licked his palm before running his index finger along your lips.

"You did," he whispered, letting you kitten lick his fingers. You tasted good on his warm skin, and you were no longer embarrassed. Because he looked so turned on right now. You could see his cock straining against the fabric of his underwear, could feel him pulsing against you. When you sucked two of his fingers into your mouth, he started bucking against you, and you looked up at him.

"Don't look at me like that," he rasped, pushing them a little further into your mouth. "You already know you own me."

You moaned around his fingers before he pulled them free and kissed you. Then his sweatshirt was on the floor along with your soaking wet underwear. You watched the graceful way he removed his own underwear as you sat up.

"Come here," you commanded, and he did as he was told, kissing you and wrapping his arms around you. You told him where to touch you, and he did. You told him everything you wanted, and he did that too. You were already a mess again as his thigh rubbed your core. Already whimpering his name.

"You gonna let me make love to you, Princess?" he asked, spreading your legs a little wider and coaxing you flat on your back.

"Yes," you whispered when you felt him at your entrance.

"A little louder," he said, pressing against you with delicious pressure.

"Yes!"

He was steady and meticulous, sure that you liked everything he was doing before he went a little harder. He checked in with you until you could barely answer him, because everything felt too good. Your fingers were digging into his biceps as your lips skimmed along his neck, licking at the salty sheen on his skin. He was chanting your name like a prayer as he moved with such precision, you weren't sure you'd ever be able to orgasm without him again.

Bradley was loving your body with his. He chased your lips for more kisses every time you needed to take a breath. His rough hands were so sure of what you needed as he touched you seemingly everywhere. And interspersed among the sweet sound of your name, he told you he loved you. He used his voice like a tool in tandem with his perfect body until you were squeezing his cock tight.

You felt wrung out and exhausted, barely able to control yourself as your fingers went loose on his arms. You sunk back in the bed, keening for him as your orgasm washed over and through you. And then you watched him, neck straining as his strokes grew shorter and more irregular. You pulled his mouth to yours as he came for you. He tasted so good as he let his hand gently grip the back of your neck, his thumb stroking your jaw.

"I love you," he breathed against your lips. His voice sounded as broken as you felt as he collapsed mostly on top of you. You held him close with your hands in his hair, and his cock still buried inside you.

"I love you, Daddy."

---------------------------

Bradley smiled the whole time you and he argued about doing laundry. You were adamant that he wash your underwear along with the bedding, but he kept telling you he liked the way they looked on his bedroom floor too much to do that.

Finally you scooped them up and said, "I'm sure if you really want to, we can soak them again," and then took them and his bedding into your arms. "It's not like you don't know how to make me squirt."

Then he watched you parade out of his room, your naked backside swaying beautifully as you went. He just stood there and exhaled as he ran his hands through his hair. He was certain he had the dumbest look on his face.

You loved him.

"Good thing I like cold French toast," you said with a laugh as he sat down completely naked on one of the kitchen chairs. You were also naked, plating some breakfast which was definitely becoming lunch.

"I like anything you cook," he mumbled, eyes glued to every inch of your body as you turned and set down a plate in front of him along with maple syrup and two glasses of orange juice. "Mind grabbing my phone?" he asked, watching as you picked it up from where he discarded it earlier.

"Here you go, old man," you said quite loudly. "Can you hear me? Do you remember your pass codes? Or do you need a refresher?"

"You know, I have a bag of Skittles for you, but I think I'll just eat all of them," he said, pulling you down onto his lap and opening up a playlist on his phone.

"You would never," you gasped. Bradley was laughing, but you actually seemed scandalized.

"No, I wouldn't," he promised, kissing your shoulder as you settled back against him. He played his favorite song, the one that reminded him of you while you cut up the French toast and drenched it in syrup.

Bradley watched you lick some syrup from your fingertip as you said, "I made a playlist for Noah. A bunch of kid friendly songs. He loved it." You took a bite of food and turned to smile at him while you chewed.

"That was sweet of you," he rasped as you fed him a bite. "He's crazy about you." Bradley thought back to Noah crying and saying he wanted you to be his mommy.

"I love him," you said simply, taking another bite of French toast while Bradley wrapped his hands around your waist and caressed your soft skin.

And it didn't take long until the food was eaten and you were straddling his lap on the chair. You were cradling his hard cock against your pussy while you kissed his neck and dragged your purple fingernails down his chest and along his abs.

"Feels good," he groaned, trying to sit still and enjoy everything you were doing to him. You looked gorgeous everywhere. Every tilt of your head and brush of your lips against his skin had all of his senses screaming for more. When you finally lifted your hips up and let him slip inside you, he was so far gone. You rode him so well with your arms around his neck and your fingers trailing through his hair.

"Oh," you gasped, eyes fluttering closed as you rubbed your clit against his abs.

"You're so good, Baby," he promised, one hand guiding your hip and the other tracing your nipples. You were a dream. Everything he wanted. Perfect for him. Perfect for Noah.

You leaned closer and kissed his lips, getting louder with each stroke of your clit against him. And soon you were whining his name and pulling his hair. He filled you with his cum that dripped all over the chair and coated your thighs when you stood.

He just looked at you there, standing between his splayed thighs with your hands on his shoulders. "I never want to stop being with you," he mumbled, and you leaned down to kiss him.

------------------------

You were a little embarrassed to admit to Bradley that when you got out of the shower, you wanted to take an afternoon nap. After you spent a few minutes picking on him for being old and drinking fiber in his tea with lunch, you yawned so long and loud that he led you to the living room. You were in his soft UVA sweatshirt again, and you stretched out on the couch with your head on his lap.

The last few days had been wild. You vowed that you were never going to speak to Greyson or his friends again. No more college boys in any way, shape or form. Nobody but Bradley.

He was currently drawing tiny circles along your neck with his fingertips. You yawned again before you whispered, "You know, I probably shouldn't even be here right now."

He just hummed in response, so you asked, "Where are things at with Meredith? Still scheduled for Wednesday?"

But Bradley was silent for a moment before he said, "I don't want you to have to worry about her. I'm doing enough worrying for all three of us. But yes, Wednesday. Unless Tracy calls and tells me otherwise."

"I'm still going to worry, Daddy. But I'm also going to support you. Noah needs to be with you. He needs his dad who took care of him and loves him. He needs to stay with you."

But those little circles on your neck and his rough fingertips had you drifting off to sleep, and you sensed that was what he wanted. He seemed reluctant to let you be consumed by this. So you slept for a few hours on his warm thigh, only stirring when you really needed to go to the bathroom. He hadn't moved at all, but his hand was resting on your bare hip, and he was watching sports highlights on mute on the TV with the captions turned on.

"Baby," he murmured when you popped your head up and turned to look at him. So handsome. You climbed onto his lap and rested your head against his shoulder. He kissed your forehead and told you, "Penny's bringing Noah back in about an hour."

Your heart soared. That would give you enough time to cook something for him for dinner, and then you could play with him a bit before his bedtime. Before you had to leave. And then your heart sank, because you didn't want to go home. And you didn't want to see Penny. You were still so upset about what happened when Bradley got blindsided by Helen.

"I'll be back," you whispered, standing and heading for the bathroom. You took a few minutes to yourself. There was too much going on. And you thought that if you could sort everything out without Bradley distracting you with his hands and his lips you could make more sense of things.

You wanted to be here when Penny dropped Noah off. You didn't want to hide what was going on. You wanted to stay and have dinner with your boys. You deserved that much.

You wanted to help Bradley with Meredith. If there was some way you could aid in court or help him prepare, you wanted to do that. He deserved that much. And Noah deserved everything.

You sighed and washed your hands, and when you opened the door, Bradley was standing there. "I just remade the bed, and I'd love to spend some time snuggling with you."

You went with him and curled up against his huge body. He held you close and asked, "When is your graduation? I need to make sure Noah and I can be there."

The first thing that popped into your mind was the scary thought that maybe Bradley wouldn't be the one making plans for his son much longer, but you squashed it immediately. "I'll add it to your phone calendar since I assume you're too old to figure out how to do that," you replied, kissing the tip of his nose.

He smirked and squeezed your butt so that you were smiling. "I appreciate that, distressingly young girlfriend."

You gasped. "Is that what I am? I thought you said no titles."

"You're my girlfriend," he said with a nod. "Just deal with it, okay? It's been only you for a while now. Your crown lives on my bedpost. I haven't had any other partners. Noah and I are in love with you. You're my girlfriend. My Princess."

You couldn't stop the smile from taking over your face. "Technically I'm Noah's Princess, too."

He sighed and studied your face. "I'm hoping you'll be more than that someday. Now let me put some real clothing on before Penny gets here." With a kiss to your cheek, Bradley grunted and climbed out of bed. You watched his body as he pulled on a US Navy tee shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants.

"Okay, what are you doing?" you asked, crawling across the bed toward him.

He gave you a funny look. "Getting...dressed?"

"No." You pulled him closer by the drawstring on his pants. "As your girlfriend, I'm telling you that you can't wear gray sweatpants around anyone except me. Or like maybe your doctor or something. Because even with underwear, I can see the outline of your dick. It's delicious looking, but no, Daddy."

He blushed. He actually blushed. And you smirked as he yanked them back off again and tossed them at your face. "You wear them, then." You laughed as he pulled on some jeans, complaining the entire time. Then you got out of bed and stepped into his sweatpants. You were sure you looked ridiculous in his too large sweatpants and sweatshirt, but you had nothing else to wear, so you rolled the pants at the waist.

And then the doorbell rang. And now you actually weren't sure that Bradley would want Penny to see you here. You were about to ask him if that was the case, but he took you by the hand.

"Noah is going to be so excited that I didn't completely fuck things up with you." He pulled you down the hallway and toward the front door, and before you knew it, Noah and Penny were right in front of you. When he saw you, his face lit up, and he started trying to wiggle out of Penny's arms.

"Princess!"

You scooped him up as Penny laughed and handed Bradley a bag. "Here's some artwork that we made today. Plus some dirty laundry. We had so much fun making macaroni art with Amelia."

She smiled at you. She didn't look surprised to see you at all as you hugged Noah and kissed his round cheek.

"Thanks, Pen," Bradley mumbled, digging through the bag.

"No need to thank me," she replied, wringing her hands nervously now. "I owe you an apology." She was talking to you. Your eyes went a little wide. "I didn't know the two of you were together. If I had known, I would have never tried to set Bradley up. I really shouldn't have done it anyway," she added softly.

You turned to look up at Bradley. "You told her about us?"

"Yes," he replied, slipping his arm around your shoulders and kissing his son on the head. "Of course I did."

"I should have known, honestly," Penny said, looking at Bradley with a smile. "By the way he said he wasn't using the dating app. And how he seemed calmer. More grounded."

Your cheeks felt warm as you pressed your lips together. "Do you want to stay for dinner?" you asked. "I'm making spaghetti."

"Spaghetti!" Noah cheered, but Penny shook her head. "I need to pick Amelia up from her friend's house. But thank you." And then she was kissing Bradley's cheek and closing the door as she left.

You were alone with your boys. This was all you'd been dreaming about recently. Noah's arms were around your neck, and Bradley was guiding you toward the kitchen, and you had tears in your eyes.

"I love you," Noah whispered, and then you started crying.

"I love you, too, sweet Noah."

---------------------------

Bradley watched you tuck Noah into bed. You looked so good in his clothing and in his house. You looked perfect when you were with his son. He needed this to be his everyday life.

You joined him in the hallway and whispered, "I'll get an Uber to take me home if you don't mind me borrowing your clothes."

"Stay," he replied softly. "Please, stay."

You bit your lip and started to slowly shake your head. "Tomorrow is Monday. You have work. I should go to campus and start on my job applications and final few assignments."

"You can do that from here. Use my computer. Please, stay."

You hummed softly. He would be more than happy to beg you not to leave, but you took him by the hand and kissed his wrist. "Okay. I'll stay. Leave me your computer and charger."

Then you turned toward his bedroom, pulling his sweatshirt over your head as you went. "Are you coming?" you asked him over your shoulder. He could see the silhouette of your peaked nipple in the dimly lit space, and he tripped along after you.

"I'm coming, Baby," he rasped, and your soft giggle as you climbed into his bed had him reaching for you. The room was dark, and his eyes hadn't adjusted yet, but your voice alone was making him hard.

"Come get me, Daddy."

He grunted and slipped his hand down the front of the sweatpants, and you gasped. He took his time. He made sure you were reacting just the way he wanted you to. And when he had you close, he asked, "Does anyone else make you feel as good as Daddy does?"

Your moan was so loud in the silent house that he had to cover your mouth with his. "No," you panted. "No."

Then he flipped you over onto your knees and yanked the sweatpants down. "Good girl," he whispered, burying his face in your pussy from behind.

"Daddy," you whined, and Bradley had to push your face down to the pillow to keep you quiet. With your ass in the air, he finished you off as you gushed a bit for him.

"Fucking hell," he growled as he lapped at your pussy and unzipped his jeans, pulling himself free. With one clean movement, he was buried deep, bottoming out inside you. "Soaking wet." His face was tipped back, staring at the ceiling, trying to keep his composure.

"Daddy!" you whined, bumping back against him harder, and that was it.

"Not too loud, Baby," he warned, wrapping one hand over your mouth and planting one hand on the bed. He pressed himself against your back and whispered in your ear, "You want Daddy to be sweet or rough?"

"Rough," you whimpered against his fingers before he shoved them in your mouth and slammed into you until he was seeing stars. You were a whimpering mess as Bradley filled you over and over again, and then he came so hard, he was afraid he was going to hurt you. But you seemed fine as he collapsed on top of your back.

"You okay?" he asked, panting like he'd just run five miles.

"Yes," you gasped softly. "So good."

"Will you let me fuck you like a sweet princess tomorrow?"

You moaned softly. "Whenever you want."

He kissed along your neck and grunted. "Daddy needs a good night's sleep, Baby. Tomorrow."

And not ten minutes later, Bradley was sound asleep as you ran your fingers along his chest and told him you loved him. He never wanted you to leave.

-------------------------

Bradley is always in a much better headspace when he's with his little family. Don't worry, Meredith is on deck! Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 23

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fae-feeder · 4 months

Text

Domesticity suits her.

She's been spending the past year nesting. The apartment is warm with soft lights and wide cozy furniture, the house plants are thriving and something baking in the oven smells like butter and cinnamon and vanilla. She's been taking it slow while she finishes her degree. Putting so much love into creating a home helps keep her sane through the endless afternoons on the couch with a laptop. Lazy evenings after I get home, both of us tired, eating dinner and cuddling up to watch a show.

Domesticity suits her. The house is her happy place, her own safe little corner of the world. She wears oversized sweatpants or loose dresses. She orders groceries and picks them up at the door. The clothes she used to go out in don't fit any more. She doesn't care, there isn't anywhere to go. She gives herself permission to stay comfortable, she puts another tray of cookies in the oven.

Domesticity suits her. Lazy days full of hearty home-cooked meals turn into months, and her thighs and belly swell up like rising dough. She walks more slowly now, heavy steps from the couch to the kitchen and back again. She orders one chair for cooking and another for the shower. She looks at her body - awkwardly oversized breasts resting on a round belly, a rear like two big pillows, hips filling the love seat - and she appreciates how the home has shaped her. She really looks the archetype: the nurturing mother, the soft home-maker, the content stay-at-home wife. I tell her that I like a little more to love, and she laughs, jokes that if she keeps gaining like this it won't be long until she can't fit out the front door.

Domesticity suits her. By the time she finishes her degree, she's made up her mind about what she wants next - she's ready to get pregnant. We talk through it and decide she should keep staying home, take it easy on her body while we get the house ready for a baby. Hungry and hormonal, she piles on even more weight, embracing her cravings, never far from food. Her breasts seem to double in size, truly enormous now, and they make her struggle to carry things, to see things near her feet, to sit close to tables. I take on more of the chores, I run all the errands, I bring her meals to the couch. Her body is only really good for one thing now - staying cozy in the home, pregnant and cared for. And she likes it. She doesn't want to live a different life, this one feels perfect for her.

Domesticity suits her.

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fizzyxcustard · 11 months

Text

Those Hands.

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Insecurity, comparison, angst, sexual references, mutual pining, idiots in love.

Comments/Notes: From the imagine, "Imagine that Thorin is in love with you (from the race of Men) but constantly compares his body and features with other men, thinking you find him disgusting." Requested by multiple readers and anons. (THANK YOU!)

I hope you like the fic. As always, like, reblog and comment if you enjoy. If you wish to be added to any of my tag lists, let me know.

Thorin watched every little interaction that you had with other males, whether they be Dwarves, Men or Elves. He couldn’t help but watch you blush, avert eye contact and use self-soothing gestures, such as touching your face, curling your hair with your fingers, or rubbing your upper arms.

Since Thorin had been crowned King of Erebor, and re-building was underway, many people visited the mountain. Bard came from Esgaroth, often meeting with Thorin in council, to discuss trade deals and assistance in building. Much to Thorin’s distain, Thranduil of the Woodland Realm, also came. Again, he joined the council to converse around the subject of trade deals in precious metals and gemstones.

Your relationship with Thorin was entirely built on trust. The two of you had been companions out on the road during the quest to re-take Erebor. He had always valued your opinion, spoke with you in private, and kept you close to him on his council of advisors. Erebor was now your home, despite you being of the race of Men. Your family were all gone, meaning that the Dwarves had now taken that place, welcoming you into the fold and treating you as one of their own.

One morning, council was busy. Neldra, one of the kitchen staff, was on hand with jugs of cold drinks and pots of tea. Then once all the drinks were laid out neatly on intricately laced doilies, she came back with a trolley of fresh pastries.

The smell was divine; you took an inhale and let the scent overtake you. Apple and cinnamon were among the selection: your favourite.

You reached out to take one of the pastries, only to feel another hand graze yours. “I apologise,” a voice came, from the direction of the hand.

It was Bard, from two seats down to your right hand side, who had stretched across to grab one of Neldra’s famous delicacies. “It was no bother,” you replied. “You first.”

“Ladies first. I insist.”

Thorin’s blue eyes studied the scene going on before him. No one else had noticed the exchange between you and Bard. Upon the impact of yours and Bard’s hands, Thorin felt a jolt in his chest. It rose up into his throat, and he closed his eyes for a brief second. The red hot sensation bore into him, feeling as if it were forming a hole straight through him. Upon opening his eyes, Thorin looked at his hands, then glanced across to Bard’s. The man’s hands were broad, but his fingers long and slender. Very much unlike Thorin’s. The Dwarf King’s fingers were short and bulky, with stubby ends. Surely Bard’s hands would have the dexterity and skill to caress your skin, drawing shivers from you. A Dwarf’s hands would be too calloused and thick to evoke any kind of pleasurable sensation upon a woman from the race of Men.

Chatter continued, along with eating and drinking. In that time, Thorin tried his hardest to push the negative thoughts from his mind, and concentrate on the conversation at hand, which involved the realms of Erebor and Esgaroth exchanging skilled workers and apprentices.

Thranduil was also present and merely rolled his eyes as the conversation got underway between Bard and Thorin. The Elven King did not like to waste his time, and being in this council meant that there were stints of time where his input was not needed.

“Would you like another drink?” you asked Thranduil, picking up the nearest china pot of tea.

“I would much prefer wine, but since I’m not within my realm, I would not say no.”

Thorin’s gaze darted over to Thranduil, and then to you. He saw you brush a piece of hair behind your ear, and then look up at the Elven King sat opposite you. Your ears were small, with one golden hoop earring in each lobe. Then Thorin looked at Thranduil’s ears; pointed at the tip, finely structured. They weren’t big, round and sticking out. Thorin’s ears were ugly, and thankfully he could keep them hidden under his long hair. Secretly, he had always imagined you whispering against them, your lips brushing them. It made Thorin shiver.

Once council had concluded, Thorin left the chamber and headed back to the royal wing. Once inside and he stood in front of his full length dress mirror, staring at the protruding ears on the side of his head. Then he studied his large hands, thinking back to Bard’s.

The males from the races of Men and Elves made you blush in a way that Thorin never had. Their bodies were more finely crafted, which complemented yours. They had finer features with smaller noses and brows.

Thorin shifted back and sat on his bed, his hands in his lap. He took one more glance at them, feeling disgusted at what he saw. They would never be good enough for you. None of his body would ever be good enough for you. Everything about him was oversized, not delicate and handsome like Bard and Thranduil. Both of them had lost their wives, and may have wished to re-marry, so they would make better husbands for you.

***

The following day and Thorin was sat in the council room, signing documents. His quill scratched loudly against the parchment.

You walked in, holding a further stack of documents in your hands. “These should be the last ones,” you said, offering a smile.

Thorin looked up at you. No blush on your face to be seen.

“Is everything alright?” you asked. There was something in his eyes, a thoughtfulness. Maybe even a sadness. You sat down in an empty seat next to Thorin. “What’s wrong?” On impulse, you placed your hand on top of his.

Thorin looked at your hands, watching your thumb gently caress his knuckle. How huge his hand looked against yours. But how right it felt, as if the size did not matter, and they were still able to fit together as one.

“There is nothing wrong,” Thorin said, forcing a weak smile. “I hear that Bard is leaving this afternoon. Will you not be wishing him farewell?”

“I barely know him,” you replied. “I’d feel it strange to do so.”

“Would you wish to get to know him?”

“I don’t know. Why do you ask?”

“Surely you find him handsome,” Thorin continued, pulling the new stack of documents over towards him.

“Not really. Can’t say I do. There’s some reason to you asking this, Thorin.”

“Why would I have any reason?”

“There’s always a reason to anything that you ask. I know you enough by now. Talk to me. You’ve always given me more trust than I deserve, and never questioned me liked this before.”

Thorin took a deep inhale and looked at you, dropping his quill. “Who do you find handsome? If not Bard, maybe Thranduil?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Why ever would you think I’m attracted to King Thranduil?” The whole idea was so comical that you couldn’t help but keep giggling. “It takes….” You couldn’t stop the giggling. “A special….kind of woman….to…..”

Thorin also began to chuckle, watching your face turn red in amusement and delight. His heart somehow felt lighter as he watched you, and that overwhelming love for you rose. It was a love that would allow him to do anything to make you happy. It was a love that would make him sacrifice his very life to keep you safe. It was sacrificial and unconditional.

You could see the glow in Thorin’s eyes and the smile which curled his lips upwards. He was the one you found handsome, above all others. The intensity in his eyes made butterflies swarm in your stomach. His proud presence caused you to shiver whenever he entered a room. His voice was enough to make your imaginations travel to another place where only the two of you were, locked away in comfort, pursuing wondrous pleasure.

You edged closer to Thorin. “You said you want to know who I find handsome?”

Thorin’s heart was hammering now and he was sure that you would be able to hear it.

“It’s you.” Your voice was a whisper. “It’s always been you. How could it not be you? Why would you ever think I’d be attracted to Bard and Thranduil?”

Thorin closed his eyes in embarrassment. “My features and body are not like theirs.”

“So why would that not make you handsome?”

“My hands…”

“Your hands?” you giggled. This time a blush did hit your cheeks, and it was even more vivid than it had ever been when in the company of any other man. “You have found out my secret.”

“What secret?” Thorin asked, shifting ever so slightly closer to you. He had never wanted you any more than he did in those moments. The very thought that it was him that you found handsome was making his whole being rise, but anticipation was now racing down his spine in shivers.

“I have had a fantasy for some time now, since meeting you, of what you could do to me with those hands,” you said, biting your lip.

Thorin couldn’t hold back any more and moved even closer to you, his hand cupping your cheek. His breath was elevated and his eyes were sparkling with so much joy, but slight fear.

His lips crashed against yours and you both groaned upon impact. Within seconds and the kiss had grown deep, your tongues both meeting. You couldn’t help but whimper as Thorin’s lips left yours and trailed down your neck. His beard tickled your skin and then as he grew more impatient, you could feel the tickle become a bristling, sharp sensation. Your hands became lost in his hair as he nuzzled at your neck, groaning and grunting.

Thorin felt your fingertips brush over his ears, and it drew an overwhelming shiver from his very core.

“I love you, Thorin,” you said again. “Now show me what you can do with those hands.”

***

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sometimesanalice · 5 months

Text

In a Place Just Right

Summary: It's your first year hosting Thanksgiving in San Diego for the Daggers and Bradley can tell you're a little nervous about it. But he already knows it's going to be one for the books, because any holiday spent with you better than anything he could have imagined.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5K

Warnings: fluff and allusions to smut (minors dni)

(author's note: this fic is set in the 'Like I Can Universe', but can be read on it's own! Happy Thanksgiving, friends!)

For the last six years Penny has been the one to host Daggersgiving, but this year hostess duties had fallen on your plate. Needless to say, Bradley knew you were more than a little stressed about it.

When you had asked him about his opinion on the merits of canned cranberry sauce versus homemade he’d blinked at you a few times before asking, “Is this a thing people care about?”

He’ll never forget how adorably aghast you looked to learn that he had no preference on the matter. And maybe if you had asked him when the sun was up instead of at 3 AM he might have known better than to give you such a noncommittal answer.

“Both, we’ll have both,” you’d stated resolutely.

“Whatever you want, kid," he’d murmured as he’d pulled you to his chest and wrapped an arm around your stomach. His smart and beautiful wife. "Now go back to sleep, you’re supposed to be dreaming of sugarplums not cranberries."

“Wrong holiday, Bradley,” you’d sighed contentedly, relaxing against him. And it hadn’t taken you long to fall back asleep with that cranberry crisis having been averted.

But now people were due to show up in less than an hour and you are frantically fluttering and huffing around the kitchen like a madwoman in a very pretty green dress, "I knew that quickie was a bad idea. You're never quick, Bradley."

He’d been away and missed many holidays over the years due to his career.

Your mom had always made it clear that he had an open invitation to join in whatever merry festivities were happening with your family, but more often than not it rarely aligned with him being stationed all over the world. But he’d always been happy to get to have a phone call with you and eat the homemade cookies you’d sent him on those years spent apart.

But now Bradley got to look forward to spending every holiday with you in the home you shared with him.

Over the last week the house had slowly but surely transformed into something that was straight out of a magazine.

There was a display of pumpkins, ribbons, and a garland of strung dried orange slices that decorated the fireplace. And overpriced candles from your favorite store flickered cheerfully on every surface that wasn’t a fire hazard to a bunch of enthusiastic Naval aviators. The dining table was dressed up to the nines and everyone spot with their names painstakingly written in your pretty script on a place card sitting in a pinecone.

You had even made some oversized confetti in the shape of oak leaves out of some old books, the copy of ‘Why Men Love Bitches’ that Nat had given him years ago as a joke was finally repurposed and recycled into something more festive over where the beverages had been set up.

The whole house smells amazing. Warm cinnamons and nutmegs mixing with bright citrus and rich vanillas. The kitchen island and countertops were filled with various plates and platters and bowls of dips, charcuterie, fruit and vegetables, nuts, and other savories. All the other dishes were being kept warm in the ovens for when everyone arrived and was ready to settle around the dining table for dinner.

Bradley was positive that no one would leave feeling hungry. He also wasn’t entirely sure where the things his friends are bringing were going to go, but there were worse problems to have.

Penny had taken Amelia with her to visit her family on the East Coast. They’d decided it would probably be better for Mav to hang back in San Diego for the holiday, those tensions with her dad were still a bit strained even though they’d been married for almost four years now.

Which is how the Bradshaw’s were hosting their first Thanksgiving for everyone.

This morning had been organized chaos. Some of the last minute-things had only managed to be checked off with the assistance of strong coffee and a good playlist.

However, he’d still managed to sneak in the opportunity to spin you around the kitchen to your wedding song when it came up on shuffle. After all the cranberries were still popping and boiling down; there was time for it, he'd always make time for it.

But that was then.

Now, you are glaring at him like you’d been personally victimized by him and his cock.

“You complaining, sweet girl?” he asks with a smirk, leaning his hip against the kitchen island watching as you briskly stir the gravy heating up in the copper sauce pot on the stove. “Don’t think that’s what I was hearing thirty minutes ago when we had that pretty green dress of yours bunched around your hips. Sounded something like ‘more, Bradley, more’ to me.”

You shoot him a look that would make a weaker man wither, but he’s built up an immunity to it over a lifetime of having it directed at him.

“I think that’s quite enough out of you,” you reprimand, but he sees the amusement in your eyes even as you fight to keep the annoyed façade on your face. “We’re behind schedule now. I thought I buffered in enough time, just in case-”

“Just in case you begged me to give you an orgasm to, and I quote, ‘help me chill out’?”

“I was kidding,” you say, stopping your agitated whisking to go fluff the stuffing instead.

“All I’m saying is that if my beautiful wife is begging for me, I’m certainly not going to say no. I’m only human,” he says with an all too pleased shrug.

Bradley grabs the can opener and works on opening the canned cranberry sauce. He reaches for a couple plates, holding them up for your approval and you point to the one on the right. The scalloped white one with gold rim it'll be.

“For the record, I certainly did not beg,” you say primly, glowering into the homemade stuffing that you’d had him get the bread from the nice bakery across town for.

“Sure, sure,” he drawls, the smirk growing wider on his face as he sets to freeing the jelly from its rippled container.

He knows he shouldn’t tease you right now, but you’re so cute when you get huffy that he can’t help himself. He’s known that petulant raise of your chin his whole life. And sometimes when he looks at you he can so clearly see the little girl he’d been forced to entertain for hours when your moms were hanging out.

You went from being his favorite nuisance to his best friend to his everything.

“Do I still look ok? Or do I need to do a quick refresh before everyone gets here?” you ask. You turn to fully face him, tilting your head one way and then another for his inspection.

He would happily stare at you all day if you’d let him. He loves your pretty eyes and what you’ve done with your hair.

“You’re beautiful,” he grins, “And if anyone asks, we can just say you’re flushed from all the cooking.”

“Bradley,” you whine setting down your wooden spoon down on the counter with a sharp thwack.

“Ok, ok. I’m done, I promise,” he says putting his hands up in surrender with a chuckle.

He pushes off the counter and grabs a glass off of one of the floating shelves and fills it with some ice water.

“Good,” you tut haughtily, as you fiddle with the white and orange striped kitchen towel hanging on the oven door, “I was about to threaten to make you sleep on the couch tonight.”

“You wouldn’t.” Even the thought of it makes his stomach feel unsettled.

After nearly two decades of hard beds on foreign bases and on lumpy carrier mattresses, he’s never slept as well as he did since the two of you found your way to each other.

His peace was found under a fluffy green duvet on a wooden canopy bed with you tucked under his arm.

“No. No, I wouldn’t,” you agree, leaning in to place a soft kiss to his cheek in thanks when he presses the cold glass into your hands.

Bradley tugs you away from the warm stove and you reluctantly follow and sit on the barstool he’s pulled out for you on the other side of the kitchen island.

He runs his hand up and down your back comfortingly as you take a few sips, “We’re in a great place, sweet girl.”

“Mhm, yeah. Sure, of course.” You couldn’t sound less unsure if you tried. “It’s just… I’m nervous about the mushroom and leeks bread pudding. I’ve never made it before. And what if we run out of wine?”

“What’s been our motto?” he asks, taking over the helm at the stove whisking the gravy together as it begins to thicken.

“‘In Ina we trust’,” you say with a serious nod of your head.

“Atta girl, we sure do. And Nat said she’s is bringing a few bottles she picked up from when she went to Napa, the good shit. It’s going to be great. Trust me,” he says giving you a warm smile. “Will it make you feel better to go over everything again?”

“Yes, please,” you say, anxiously drumming your fingers along the side of your water glass.

He’d stepped up where he could like making sure the house was pristine and cleaning up the yard by blowing off the wrinkled remainders of the yellow Tipuana flowers. He’d even been able to source and rent some more chairs to make sure that everyone would have a seat at the table.

Bradley wasn’t a schlump in the kitchen. He knew his way around a cookbook and a stove. His knife skills were pretty damn good too, if he did say so himself. But he also knew when somethings were out of his wheelhouse. So he’d taken to being your sous chef, and had taken to washing and prepping the ingredients for you so that all you had to do was toss them in whatever shiny pot they were destined for.

He even made his mom’s favorite pie. It had been years since he's had it, and he was excited to share it with everyone.

Your mom had mailed the copy of the original recipe she had that was written in Carole’s rounded, flourished script. You had made a photocopy of it to use so that the original didn’t get ruined, and then pointed out a spot on the wall where you said you’d thought it would look nice in a frame hanging in the kitchen. And he'd fallen a little more in love with you.

“Ok, hit me with it,” he says turning the heat to low for the gravy and putting the lid on.

This was a partnership through and through, he was going to give you all the support you needed.

“The turkey?”

Bradley picks up the fancy digital meat thermometer he’d bought for the occasion to check, “Big Bird has an hour and twenty more minutes to work on his tan and then he’ll rest for another thirty. Giving people time to graze and mingle and get some drinks in them, just like you wanted.”

You nod and hum contemplatively, “I’ve been thinking we need a salad. I don’t feel like we have enough vegetable options.”

He knows better than to point out that you’re currently snacking on snap peas from not one, but three, of the veggie platters the two of you had put together the night before.

“We’ve got the crispy brussels sprouts, the garlic and hazelnut green beans, and the honey glazed carrots with lemon. We’re more than fine on the fiber and beta-carotene. Michelle Obama would be proud, kid.”

That gets a little laugh from you.

“Well, as long as you think Michelle would be happy than we’re probably fine,” you say with a smile around your water glass that tells him you know exactly what he’s doing invoking your favorite First Lady.

“What else are you thinking about?” Bradley asks peering in the lower of their double ovens, where foiled covered dishes are lined up in perfect symmetry are warming away having been prepared in advance.

“Do you think two bags of rolls will be enough? Or should I text Mav and ask him to grab one more?”

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes dip down to his ass in his gray slacks. So he might linger as second longer than necessary to let you enjoy the view, since it’s for the female gaze and all.

He’s never understood wearing the most restrictive clothing on the holiday that involves the most eating, but that was Penny’s tradition to have everyone dressed in their nicest and you had insisted on keeping it going even if she was on the other side of the country.

You’d teased him earlier when you’d seen him emerge from the bedroom wearing the short-sleeved green cashmere polo you’d gotten him a couple years ago. It fit a little more snug that he remembered it, but he thought he still pulled it off well.

“When did we become the couple that matches?” you’d asked gesturing to your dress as you gave him an appreciative onceover.

If the past was anything to go off of, you would be running your hands over the soft material covering his chest and back all night.

“I just like reminding people who I belong with, sweet girl.”

He might have had something else in mind to wear for the evening before he saw you in that dress, had ironed the shirt the night before and everything, but last-minute pivot it was well worth it when you looked at him like that.

When he stands back up, he gives you knowing wink.

And in return you throw a baby carrot at him with a laugh.

Bradley isn’t surprised in the least to hear the quick clack-clack-clack of nails on the wood floors as their fluffy black and white Portuguese Water Dog rounds the corner. Having been summoned by the sound of food hitting the floor from where he had been dozing near the fireplace in the living room.

The carrot is gone in an instant and he comes to sit at Bradley's feet by the stove, looking up at him from under his curly eyebrows clearly hoping he'll get another snack.

“Nah, bud. You’re barking up the wrong tree over here,” he says leaning down to scratch his floppy ears.

“Ah, come here, Duck,” you croon, calling him over to your side of the island. “He’s so mean for a man who claimed he just saw God not too long ago, isn’t he?”

Bradley snorts and shakes his head at you amused.

He still doesn’t know how he ended up with a dog named Duck.

At the dog park, more often than not people mistook it for ‘Buck’. And you were usually off to the side more than happy to let him take the lead, biting your lip to keep from laughing at his less than enthusiastic expression when he’d have to warily explain yet again It’s Duck like quack.

You’re not even subtle about the piece of cheese you pull from the charcuterie board to feed him.

“I saw that,” he says, giving you a pointed lift of his eyebrow, “You know Bob is going to be spoiling him all night.”

“It was just a little piece of cheese. Plus, I don’t know who you think you’re fooling. I saw you go over there and deliver him his own little veggie platter with some of the leftovers we had while I was making the apple cider sangria.”

“That’s different, that’s good for him,” he says rounding the island, reaching over and snagging his own slice of cheese to snack on.

“And cheese is a protein. He’s just a baby, Bradley, what am I supposed to do? Not give him a piece of swiss?” You slide off your chair to squat down and rub Duck’s belly, you’ve always been his favorite.

“He’s almost five,” he replies flatly.

“A youth!” you exclaim, “He’s a growing boy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bradley says affectionately with a little roll of his eyes. He knows a losing battle when he sees one.

He offers you his hand to help you stand back up, but you wave him off and pull yourself up using the edge of the island. You take a moment to readjust your dress before making your way to the sink by the big windows that look out into the backyard.

“Speaking of Bob, do you know if he’s bringing his fiancée?” you ask from over your shoulder as you wash your hands.

“Not this time, sweetheart. I guess she volunteered to cover a shift in the NICU when she heard they were short staffed.”

“Oh that’s too bad, I was excited to see her ring in person,” you say drying off your hands and heading to the pantry.

“It’s all he can talk about at work. I guess they’re thinking about a Spring wedding next year. They don’t want to wait too long to get married.”

“I’m so happy for them,” you say, digging around for a moment and then emerge with a stack of some sturdy plastic plates and set them on the last free spot on the countertop. “Don’t let me forget to make them up a couple plates that he can bring home for her, before Fanboy declares it time for ‘second dinner’ and eats all the yams like he did last year.”

“I won’t forget, promise,” he says fondly.

If you were facing him, he knows you’d probably tease him for the look on his face and just how gone he is for you.

You’ve always been so generous, it’s one of the things that he loves most about you.

You were always good about hustling him out of his well-earned money from is part time job scooping ice cream in high school, like with the fundraiser you did for the local soup kitchen and the one for the elementary school summer arts program.

He’s always been wrapped around your finger, it just took him awhile to realize why.

It’s the same reason why there’s been a donation that comes out of his bank account every month for the last five years for one of the San Diego animal shelters.

Bradley had made a rather sizable donation and then set up a smaller reoccurring monthly one after the chaos that was the time Bob had set you up with his friend who worked at the shelter, back before the two of you had gotten together.

Even after all these years, he still can’t help but get a little irritated every time he sees that guy’s face in the monthly newsletter that comes to his email. He’s pretty sure Casey still might have a little crush on you, but Bradley can’t blame him. He’d have a hard time getting over you too, so it’s a good thing he’ll never have to.

On newsletter day, Bradley always finds himself giving Duck extra treats.

You are his wife. And Duck is his dog. Ridiculous name and all.

He couldn’t wait to surprise you with the golden tennis ball that the shelter sends out as a thank you after a decade of donations.

Only five more years to go.

You’re over by the bar that’s been set up off to the side, straightening the already very straight rows of gleaming wine glasses when he hears you suck in a sharp gasp.

Bradley drops the dish cloth he had in his hands as he attempted to give what little counter space there was left a final wipe down and is in front of you in half a heartbeat. Was there a fluke with some faulty stemware? Are you bleeding? There’s a reason Thanksgiving is one of the busiest days at the hospital.

“The butter!” you cry out as you whirl around, your pretty eyes welling up with tears, “I let you fuck me and I forgot to pull the butter from the fridge. It’s going to be too hard for people to spread now!”

He knows it’s more than just hosting jitters that’s got you like this, but it still catches him by surprise sometimes.

“Woah, woah,” he says as he catches you on the way to the fridge and pulls you to his chest, “C’mere, my sweet girl.”

You make a distressed noise but allow him to keep his hold on you, “But the butter…”

“I already pulled the butter, see?” He points to the sticks that are already softening away on the counter. “Will you take a couple slow breaths for me, please? This place looks and smells amazing. We did good, baby.”

Bradley feels the moment your body relaxes into him.

He presses a kiss to the side of your temple as he smooths his hands down your soft, pretty green velvet dress and the warm, firm curve of your rounded stomach soothingly.

“Ugh, I’m sorry. It’s the hormones,” you sigh, as you lean your head back against his shoulder.

He hums empathically as he sways gently side to side with you in his arms.

“I would like to go on the record saying that I like pregnancy hormones, especially the ones from earlier,” he jokes lightly.

“That makes one of us,” you say with a watery laugh, “Just wait until I am waking you up at 4 AM because I am craving something from a drive-thru that’s not open.”

“Mm, can’t wait,” he murmurs before dropping a few kisses along the soft line of your jaw.

Bradley still can’t believe he gets to be this lucky in life.

He doesn’t want to forget a single moment of this. With you, with his family.

“We did a really good job with this one,” he whispers into your ear, still stroking your stomach, not wanted to disturb the magic in the domesticity.

“We really did, da--” Bradley groans and cuts you off with a kiss. He can feel the impish smile plastered on your lips as he kisses you. His favorite menace.

He knows you’re pretty sure it was the spontaneous hook up in the storage closet at the Hard Deck on the Fourth of July that’s responsible for the noticeable bump you’re sporting. Call him a romantic, but he likes to think it was that night in the Bronco overlooking the ocean when he’d taken the long way back home.

You pull away all too soon for his liking to grab his left hand. He sees the flash of the two diamonds on your engagement ring, one from his mom and one from yours, as you take it and press it to a spot near your bellybutton.

The feeling of the fluttering under his palm will never get old. He’s not too proud to say he’d shed a tear or two the first time he’d felt it.

Bradley lets himself bask in this moment as he two of you stand there in the kitchen of your dream house.

There are a few pops from the wood in the fireplace, the refrigerator is humming away in the background, and he can just hear the sounds of a melodic piano from the playlist he queued up earlier playing over the speaker.

Of all the delicious scents that waft through the house, the smell the floral and musk notes in you perfume is still his favorite.

There are times in the soft quiet of night, usually when you are asleep and his mind won’t quite settle, that he sometimes thinks he was put on this Earth to hold you.

It’s the only reason he can think of that explains why you fit so perfectly against his body.

Why his palms can fit so perfectly over your rounded stomach.

Why it’s his hands that you have trusted to protect your heart.

And he’s still holding you in the warmth of the kitchen when he hears the front door open.

Bradley knows he’s going to have to play host soon and he just wants to keep you in his arms for just a little longer.

“Hey kids, I brought the turkey,” Mav calls out from the entry.

You spin in his arms, looking at him wide eyed and confused as you two exchange a look. He presses one last kiss to your cheek before letting you go.

“Thought you were going to bring the rolls, Mav,” Bradley calls out just in time to see him round the corner.

Pete stands there proudly grinning holding a few bags of bakery rolls in one hand and a turkey in the other.

The sound of your delighted laughter makes his heart swell in his chest as he takes in the sight.

“Cooper Mitchell Ford Bradshaw, you are without a doubt the cutest turkey I have ever seen,” you gush as you go to greet Mav with a warm hug and a kiss on his cheek. Your son’s chubby arms reaching out for you.

Mav has dressed your almost two-year-old son in a soft, plush turkey costume that is complete with tailfeathers and a beak. He’s clearly a fan of the outfit too because he is grinning widely, showing of the more of the baby teeth that have come in over the last few months.

Mav had swung by early this morning to take him off your hands to get ready for Daggersgiving without chasing an almost-toddler around. While it was nice to have some time just the two of you while you got the place in order and took care of the last-minute things, like that homemade cranberry sauce, but he’d missed not having his son around.

The sweet sound of Cooper’s giggles and your coos fill up the kitchen as he watches you pepper his face with kisses. You bounce him a little and do a little spin, making the little boy laugh even more. The two of you in your own little bubble.

“You doin’ ok over there, kid?” Mav asks, a soft grin on his face as he sets the rolls on the counter to pull him in for a hug.

The two men had made their way back to each other over the last few years, just another thing that Bradley was grateful for in his life. The man had always been his father in everything but name. That is until he’d seen the man who raised him hold his son for the first time.

“Yeah, Dad,” Bradley says, clearing his throat a bit, “Everything’s perfect.”

From there it’s a flurry of activity as people start to arrive.

Nat comes with her longtime girlfriend and the extra bottles of the fancy Napa wine she promised to bring. Only handing it over once he promised to give her the name of the contractor the two of you had worked with and the exact shade of green that was used on the lower cabinets during your kitchen renovation.

Payback and Fanboy and their wives show up wearing oversized turkey hats on their heads each carrying a bakery box of pie.

Bradley isn’t surprised when Duck ditches the attention that Coyote was giving him the second Bob shows up with the famous Floyd family scalloped potatoes. Bob has always been a sucker for a pair of puppy dog eyes.

And in between checking on people’s glasses, swapping out empty appetizer trays for fuller ones, and making sure Jake doesn’t tamper with his perfectly cooked turkey, he’s got his eyes trained on you.

There are no words for the pride and love that washes over him every time he looks over and sees you with his son propped up on your hip and the way your pretty dress stretches around your growing family.

He had missed this stage of your pregnancy when he was deployed and you were pregnant with Cooper. He was determined to savor every second of this one. Every butter related freak out and every late-night milkshake run.

Being in his house surrounded with all the people he loves, minus a couple who are here in spirit, isn’t something he could ever take for granted. It’s more blessings than he ever hoped to receive in this lifetime.

You look over your shoulder at him and everything about the way you’re looking at him is picture perfect.

Your smile sunshine gold and just for him as you hold his gaze for a moment as time ticks on around the two of you. You send him a little wink before turning back to Mav who has his phone held up for a FaceTime call with Penny and Amelia.

Bradley sees his son peek his head up from where it had been nestled into your neck. Cooper grins when he sees him, his tiny hand reaching out for his dad. For him.

As he makes his way over to the two of you with his heart full, he makes a mental note to ask Mav later where he got that costume. He’s already planning on running out tomorrow to see if they have any more in stock now that it seems they have a new Bradshaw tradition on their hands.

He’s going to have three little turkeys running around this time next year and he couldn’t wait.

Cooper and him were going to be outnumbered soon.

The two of you had found out earlier in the month that Everly Caroline Bradshaw and Olivia Saylor Bradshaw were going to be the newest members to join your little family.

His girls.

It was an announcement the two of you were excited to share later tonight with everyone else when the slices of pies were being passed around.

He scoops up Cooper from you with one arm, dropping a kiss onto his little boy’s perfect curls as his small fist clutches as the soft fabric of his shirt. And then Bradley kisses the crown of your head as he wraps his other arm around you, his thumb stroking the swell of your belly.

With you- because of you- he gets to have it all.

The wife. The family. The house. The dog. The life. The dream.

He’s right where he wants to be.

He’s right where he’s supposed to be.

Happy Thanksgiving! This was such a joy to write, thank you for reading!

It might not be Carole Bradshaw's famous pie, but it's one of my favorites! And who better to share it with than you! Cranberry-Lime Pie

If you haven't read the 'Like I Can' series you can read it here!

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #rooster x you #rooster x reader #rooster x female reader #rooster imagine #bradley rooster x reader #bradley rooster x you

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exhaslo · 5 months

Note

Hiii i was wondering if you could do a miguel x cinnamon bun reader who’s a chubby baker and catches Miguel’s eye sometime when he was out as spiderman and decides to wife her up. And now that they’re together since she’s always baking at home miguel comes home to the smell of cinnamon buns and her as well who’s filled with flour on her face. You can make it smutty if you want, i was just thinking that this scenario was cute 😭😩

have a good dayyy

Crying bc I wrote like half of this before Tumblr froze and deleted everything so I gotta rewrite it again.

Anyway, this is a cute idea. It would be super adorable if Miguel didn't like sweets either...so...without further ado...Time to write again

Warning: None, just fluff, light mentions of sex

------------------------------------------------------------------------

You owned a small bakery in the middle of Nueva York. It was no surprise that the smell of your bakery would attract anyone walking down the block. The aroma of your desserts would attract even the most grumpiest of people.

You were working in the kitchen, sweating as you tried to perfect your latest batch of cupcakes. You took a look around at your workers, smiling as they had fun while making your desserts. You loved your job.

"Hm, I'll take whatever you recommend. I don't really like sweets." A voice from outside said.

Your ears perked up as you heard such a phase. Your curiosity got the best of you as you poked your head out of the kitchen. You saw two men at the counter with your cashier. One was giddy with joy, ordering a bunch of sweets while the other had a stern look at his face.

Slowly, you made your way behind your cashier, avoiding the tall man's gaze. He was handsome, but also somewhat scary. Pulling one of your not so sweet desserts, you carefully placed it in a cute box and slid it towards him on the counter.

"T-This is on the house. I...I hope you like it." You whispered, glancing up at him.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't think anyone but this idiot heard me." The man said while pointing at his companion.

"Migueeeel!"

"Thank you," Miguel said with a fanged smile.

You felt your cheeks flush as you rubbed your eyes. You had to be exhausted from working because you swore you saw fangs. Returning your gaze to the handsome man, you smiled as he took a bite. His eyes widen, licking his lips,

"It's good,"

Miguel was surprised by the delightful treat you gave him. He glanced towards you, caught off guard by the cute smile you gave him. He watched as you hurried into the kitchen, shaking with excitement. Unable to stop staring, Miguel looked back down at the dessert.

"Shall I get more of those for you~" Gabriel, Miguel's brother, said with a silly grin. Miguel nudged him away,

"No. I can get these myself."

----------

Miguel was swinging around the city, patrolling for any crime. He stopped, catching whiff of something ridiculously sweet. Disgruntled, he stoop and searched for the source of the smell. His shoulders sunk, spotting your bakery.

Perhaps you were working on a new recipe? Miguel made it a habit to stop by once a week. He enjoyed your company. You were different. Miguel was willing to try anything you gave him as long as it meant seeing your smile.

Sitting against the roof of the building, Miguel just sat there and watched you. You were hard working, helping every customer and your employees. He knew the struggle of managing a business. Hell, Miguel was technally in charge of two companies, if the Spider Society counted as one.

"Haha! She probably eats all her sweets! Look at her!" A rude teenager yelled as his obnoxious friends laughed alongside him.

"P-Please leave!" You begged.

Miguel stepped in once he saw tears form. He jumped onto the sidewalk and quietly walked behind you. His presence scaring the teenagers away. You whimpered, rubbing your eyes and sniffing before turning around and yelping.

"It's okay. I just scared them away," Miguel whispered, not wanting to spook you.

"Thank you," You whispered, still shaking. Miguel wanted to comfort you, but he knew this wasn't the right time or place,

"Don't let those kids get to you."

"I-I'm used to it...A chubby girl who owns a bakery. I hear it a lot." You whispered. Miguel grinded his teeth together,

"You're beautiful."

"Haha, thanks. That cheered me up," You said with that sweet smile of yours, "Here, let me give you a treat as thanks."

You hummed happily as you held Spiderman's hand, leading him into your bakery. Your customers were surprised, but went about their business. You looked behind the counter and took out one of your newest desserts, placing it in a cute box.

"I just made this, I hope you like it."

You watched as Spiderman's mask slowly disappeared revealing his lower half of his face. Your eyes widen as you saw fangs when he took a bite. Your smile widen as you thought of your regular Miguel, whom you liked.

"It's good." He said. You just giggled,

"Thank you."

--------

Miguel was determined to wife you up. He had started to stop by your bakery three times a week, chatting and getting to know you on a deeper level. Once he found out that you were single, he did not hesitate to ask you out.

Miguel wanted you. He was determined to protect you and keep his sweet little baker by his side. You were so sweet and cute that Miguel was having a hard time restraining himself. He wanted to swing you in his arms and make you his.

By your fifth date, Miguel kissed you. He held you close to him, enjoying your flushed cheeks and shy expression. He was your first for everything and Miguel was going to savior everything about that. He was going to enjoy giving you everything.

By your twelfth date, you admitted to him that you knew he was Spiderman. Miguel was slightly embarrassed, but felt a weight off his chest since he didn't have to hide it from you anymore. With his secret known to you, Miguel was able to give you even more affection due to his powers.

The first time you guys had sex, Miguel went overboard. He joked about you being his dessert for the night and ended up filling you like one of your cupcakes. He had to apologize to you, but you weren't complaining. It was the best night of your life.

Finally, after a few months, Miguel offered to have you move in with him. You were hesitate, but after some reassuring, you agreed. You were currently in your shared house, making a new recipe while waiting for Miguel to return from work.

"Mhm~ I wonder if my customers will like this~" You cooed, trying the cookies.

"Of course they will. You're the one making them," Miguel hummed as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Miguel~ You're home!" You chirped. Miguel kissed your neck, his hands groping your tummy,

"Missed you, baby. Couldn't stop thinking about you all day,"

"M-Miguel," You glanced away, feeling flustered, "D-Do you want to try my cookies?"

"Of course, but I'll be enjoying my cookies later," He whispered, groping your breasts.

"Miguel~"

Miguel chuckled lowly, capturing your lips in a kiss before willingly tried the cookie. He scrunched his face up, still not liking sweets, but told you that they were amazing.

You chuckled towards him, letting him know that you'll make some dinner. Miguel wanted to complain, saying something about feasting on you, but you managed to convince him to shower. You couldn't help but smile, happy that you found someone who loved you just the way you are.

"Oh, (Y/N), I've been meaning to ask," Miguel started as he came out of the shower, "Did you give Spider Chef a recipe for a Spiderman burger that looks like me?"

"..."

Miguel sighed heavily, "It's a best seller." He muttered,

"Yai~ I knew it~" You cheered happily.

Miguel resisted a chuckle as he watched you do your cute little cheer. You were defiantly going to make it up later. Miguel did think it was time for you to have little helpers after all.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hehe, hope you enjoyed~

Part 2 (smut)

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse

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jilixthinker · 5 months

Text

pillow puppy

=͟͟͞♡ seungmin × fem!reader

=͟͟͞♡ domestic and kinky christmas

word count: 3.1 K

content warning: smut, explicit sexual content, established relationship, sub!seungmin, dom!fem reader, puppy kink, pet play, puppy play, pet names, dumbification, nipple play, unprotected sex (piv), they are in love your honour

a/c: i confessed to my irl friends that i feel things for soft puppy seungmin with braces and i've been told i am insane, so i'm posting this here because i know someone will understand my madness my reasons. enjoy ♡

=͟͟͞♡ please, consider reblogging if you like my works!

"Noona, I am so tired".

Seungmin is splayed on the sofa, his head pressed on his favorite puppy pillow, the one that you gave him last Christmas with soft velvet ears on it. The same pillow he pretended to be upset about because "I am not your dog under any circumstance noona", but that quickly became his support item, bringing it with him any time he had to sleep away from home. His long legs, wrapped in his comfiest sweats, are crossed under you, a fluffy duvet covering them and offering you a soft support for your head.

"Minnie, we did literally nothing all afternoon" you sigh, twisting you head a bit to catch a glimpse of him. His fingers are slowly working on your scalp, braiding lazily your hair and combing it behind your ears. He is been doing that for a few minutes now and you are starting to feel a little bit sleepy.

"I know, but we've been working like crazy lately. Just two days off are not enough to restore our energy".

Seungmin is right. You both work in the complaint deparment of a big toy store and, being now Christmas just around the corner, you have been literally living inside your own offices. Even if you technically work in the same building, you have separated work places and this results in you seeing each other just at home, late at night.

This is your first day off after two long weeks, and you decided to spend it together in the way you most enjoy, staying home and watching your favorite tv show while napping on your big couch. You baked cookies after lunch, and the smell of raisins and cinnamon is still lingering in the air. You are currently on your sixth episode of your show, two mugs of hot chocolate sitting on the tv table in front of you, still too hot for you to drink them.

"I know baby. It's been really stressful. I've been missing you a lot".

Seungmin shifts a little on the couch to sit properly, gently making you lean with your back against his chest. His arms link around your tummy in a soft hug while he rests his head on top of yours, quiet puffs of air moving your hair.

"We have two days for ourselves now. I missed you like crazy too. I hate doing stuff by myself, you know. And also eating at my desk alone. I just want to share my food with you all the time".

You coo sweetly, making him scrunch his nose.

"Minnie you know I hate that seaweed stew you make from the bottom of my heart", you tease him, snuggling more on his chest and letting your head fall against his shoulder.

"Okay, is this the reward for my love? You know I cringe so bad when I say sweet stuff like this and you still make fun of me. You are mean, noona".

He laughs and dips the tip of his nose in your hair, breathing the perfume of your shampoo mixed with the cookies scent.

It's always been like this with the two of you. you've been together for years now, but the scenario never changed. Seungmin pretends to hate romance and sweet talk, but he is always the first one initiating it, exactly like he also pretends to hate when you make fun of him, but he ends up squirming and laughing and kissing you softly as a response to your teasing.

"Oh no, my poor precious baby, don't pout. You know I love my puppy's homecooked meals".

You giggle, amused by the direction your talk is taking and you scooch with your hips until you are lying completely on your boyfriend's chest, warmth spreading heavenly on your body.

Seungmin stays quiet and squeezes you in his arms a little bit more, brushing your cheek with his forehead, without answering to your joke.

"Min?" you ask, moving yourself slightly to turn your head and look at him.

When he raises his gaze to look at you, you find him blushing furiously, cheeks as red as mature apples and shy eyes, and the realization hits you. Oh, okay, this is what we are playing.

To be completely honest, this is not the first time you joke around calling Seungmin your puppy just to see him all squirmy and flustered, far from it. But it usually ends with him blabbering nothings in a frown and you peppering kisses on his face until he smiles wide, all teeth and braces. But it's been a couple of stressful weeks, as you said. And since you had no time to spend with each other except for the hours you were sleeping together at night, you didn't consider that your boyfriend, even as serious and uptight as he might seem, could be a little pent up.

Usually the dynamics between the two of you are solidly established, and Seungmin has never been embarassed to show you his submissive side, even at the beginning of your relationship. Overtime, both of you simply fell in the roles you were more comfortable with, and you really love his sweet tendency of being pliant and malleable under you. But, even if you experimented a lot in bed, talking openly about your own preferences and possible kinks that you might have, you have never addressed pet play per se, having never crossed your mind Seungmin would ever consider it.

And now, ta-dah, just a couple of dry weeks for the two of you and, out of the blue, what you did a billion times before without any problem, suddenly becomes concrete. Seungmin is currently still red and flushed and he is pressing your body against his, helped by the position you are on and the fact that you are squished firmly agains the sofa with your warm duvet covering you.

"Minnie, baby" you starts hesitantly, twisting you head a little more and readjusting yourself to face him completely, "are you okay? Did I bother you?" you ask him slowly.

If you have to do this you have to be completely, one hundred percent sure, that you are seeing things right and he is fully on board with this. But Seungmin is gripping at your hips like his life depends on it and his breathe is now beginning to be slightly herratic while he looks at you with the glassiest eyes.

"Noona..." he hiccups, frowning a bit and hiding his face on the crook of your neck. His hands are steady and firm on the fabric of your hoodie and he pulls it a little, hugging you completely.

"Baby boy", you whisper, disentagling your arms from his tight embrace to bring them on his shoulders, slowly starting to massage the upper part of his back. "Minnie" you kiss his temple and run the fingers on the feverish skin above the hem of his shirt. "Puppy", you try again, lowering your head and nibbling the lobe of his ear, sucking it into your mouth.

He moans loudly, falling completely on your body and starting to tremble against your chest. You hum pleasantly, tracing the shell of his ear with your tongue before pulling with your fingers a few locks of his hair, distancing his face from yours. Seungmin is completely wrecked already, tears forming at the corner of his eyes and lips parted, the metal of his braces tickling the soft skin of his mouth. He is truly a vision like this, all flushed and just yours, ready to take everything that you are gonna give him and to be pleasured the way he knows you will do.

You look at him fondly, slowly caressing his face with your thumbs and dragging them to his cupid bow, pinching it and then smearing the little bit of saliva collected there.

"My angel... I've been neglecting you for so long, isn't it true? What a bad owner I am, having such a nice puppy at home and leaving him alone for the longest time".

Seungmin keens at the words, closing his eyes and pushing his hips against yours, fully sitting on your lap now.

"But now I have you all for me, mh? Now I have all the time of the world to play with my sweet puppy. I am gonna give him all the things that he wants, I will make up for the time I lost".

You take your boyfriend's chin on the palm of your hand and you close the distance between the two of you, your lips brushing lightly on his. You can hear Seungmin panting, struggling to breathe properly and you could swear you can feel the beats of his heart loudly pumping blood inside his chest.

"And now? Are you gonna greet me for coming back home to play with you, mh?"

Seungmin, completely uncapable of talking, nods quickly, swallowing the pool of saliva on his mouth and he waits for your soothing voice to tell him what to do now.

"Good puppy, my good boy. I was sure. You will listen me very well, right? You will do everything I ask you".

Seungmin moans deeply. You can feel his cock throbbing under the fabric of his sweats, painfully constricted and pressed against your clothed cunt. Your tone is sickenly sweet and it makes his head light, his body feeling sticky and warm with arousal. He finds the power to nod one more time, thrusting his hips just a little, as if he was trying to contain himself.

"That's what I was thinking. I will do all the work for you, okay? You just have to obey. Don't even have to think anymore. Just empty that cute puppy head of yours and listen to me".

Seungmin doesn't even have to agree to this, his brain so floaty already that he feels almost like passing out from the embarassment and the hot feeling spreading all over his aching body. He mewls cutely when you take his face between your hands and he looks at you as if you were the only thing anchoring him to the real world.

"Open your mouth for me, puppy".

As soon as he hears you speaking, his body immediately reacts at your commands. He parts his swollen lips and his tongue automatically lolls out. You smile, humming your approval, and you bring your thumb inside his mouth, caressing his muscle until he is cutely gagging around your digit.

"Oh no, puppy, your tongue is so wet... you are drooling all over yourself. What can we do?"

Seungmin hiccups and trembles above you, losing all the control over his lower limbs. He feels like exploding and, without even wanting, he messily grinds his hips, humping once your leg. You are quick to tsk and shake your head, gripping his hips and keeping them still, pushing your covered core up against his hardened cock instead. He is so hard that you can distinctly feel his engorged head even under the layer of his pants, all puffy and swollen and wet, a small patch decorating the front.

"Oh-please... ah-p-please".

You keep maneuvering him like a doll, until you are satisfied with the position, with him straddling one of your leg, the tip of his spongy cock all pressed against your warm cunt. Then you look at him with fake disappointment.

"My sweet angel... I thought puppies didn't speak, or do they? I think I'll have to keep your pretty mouth occupied with something else then".

You make yourself enough space to take off your hoodie and shirt together, throwing them somewhere on the floor near the couch. Seungmin's eyes lay on your breasts, covered by a filmsy old bra that you usually wear just at home, making your nipples perk out of the fabric.

"You wanna suck on them, right Minnie? Puppy's gonna keep drooling if he doesn't put his mouth at use".

You unclip your bra with one hand, and one of your tits pops out, escaping from the constraint of the cotton. Seungmin whines patetically and he circles his hips on your thigh, precum leaking out from his pants and staining your sweats as well.

When you pull off completely the indument, your hand finds Seungmin's hair, pulling him towards your breasts and letting him face them, but still keeping him from touching them.

With a long sigh you let his hair go and Seungmin looks up to you, begging you with his watery eyes to let him do something.

"Go ahead, pup, lick", you concede eventually.

Seungmin wastes no time and he frantically attaches his mouth at one of your hardened nubs, cupping the breast with both of his hands and suffocating himself on it. He starts to quickly suck on your nipple as he was trying to drink from it, moaning and drooling while the room is filled with squelching and wet sounds from all the spit he is producing.

"Mh... my sweet boy, my good boy. Sucking on me like the pup he is. Go on, baby, make a mess, I want you to soak me with your spit. Making me so wet you cannot even tell the difference between my tits and my pussy".

Seungmin cries on your breast, the sound muffled by your skin, and he keep sucking your nipple messily, hands firm and hard on your tit, massaging it and stopping just to take fat licks on the skin below, drool all over your stomach and tummy, wetting the elastic of your pants.

You feel your pussy pulsating and throbbing on your panties, slick gushing rentlessly out of it and probably covering the fabric of the sofa as well. Seungmin's cock is rock hard over you, the fat tip already pocking out of his underwear band because of his movements.

You bring your hand to the hem of his pants and you lower them even more, Seungmin's cock finally springing free from the cotton. As soon as he feels the air hitting his aching muscle, Seungmin keens and bite softly at your nipple.

"Puppy, ah- you are making a mess for real... look at you, you don't even know how to move. Too dumb and sweet to do anything".

Your words make him squirm on your chest and he starts to wetly hump your abdomen, thick cock sliding on the skin of your tummy, completely drenched from all his saliva.

"Pup, you have to stop or you're gonna cum on my chest... I can feel you dripping already".

You take your hand to his cock and you fist him steadily, slick gushing out of his slit so much that it looks like he cummed already, covering your fingers with precum and making the most obscene sound.

Seungmin's legs shake violently and he lets out the more devastated sound you ever heard coming out of his mouth, tears finally spilling from his eyes and mouth hanging open.

"AH- ah mh pleas-ah please oh god oh GOD please please p-please ah mh".

At this point every second spent in torturing him is torturing you as well, so you start to jerk him off quickly, his tip bumping on your belly button at every stroke and his whines becoming sobs when you use your other hand to cup his balls and massage them.

"Pup, you have so much cum to give me, I feel it, you are so tight. I want you to pump me full until I am dripping. Can you do it? I am so wet, puppy, you can just slide in".

You stop touching him to get rid of the rest of your clothes and Seungmin almost screams at the lack of pressure on him.

"Don't cry baby, I want you too. I want you so much, look".

You schimmy your panties and you let them fall on the floor, opening your legs in front of him and bringing two of your fingers to your entrance, spreading your lips to make him see the quantity of slick gushing out of your hole, thighs trembling a bit for the position.

"See, pup? See how wet you made me? Wanna feel how wet I am inside too? Come here, puppy. Take your fat dumb cock and fuck me open. My puppy didn't fuck me for the longest time and now I am so tight, so wet for him. Two pumps and I will be full".

Seungmin moans loudly at your words and, sniffling from pleasure, he takes his cock on his hand and brushes the head against your folds, juices covering his shaft immediately while he pushes it inside. Your pussy ingulfs the tip and he falls on you, shaking and crying.

You moan at the pleasant stretch, bringing your hands to the small of his back and pushing him against you, letting his throbbing cock all inside of you in just one thrust.

"AH, I am - mh - I-I'm not - ah - Minnie's not - ah".

Seungmin sighs on your neck, hips beginning to pound without a rythm, and you know what he is trying to say.

"I'm not gonna last either pup, you made me so close, I am going to cum already".

You grip his hips and try to keep them steady to regulate his pushes, but he is so lost in pleasure that he continues to slam himelf into you messily, pounding hard and burying himself into your tight heath.

It takes just one more minute for him to start to lose it completely. Your pussy and thighs completely wet by now and his cock bumping on your cervix at every thrust.

When he pulls out almost completely and his soggy tip squelches your clit, you come with a loud moan, your cunt all drooly and pink and leaking all of your release, squeezing his cock just right. Seungmin keeps your legs wide open and he slams into you two more times before pulling out and cumming all over your pussy with a whiny sob, painting you white with his cum and soaking you even more.

He collapses on you without even breathing, your warm and sticky bodies glued together in a tight embrace. You spend a few minutes hugged like this, not worrying about how gross you are right now, but just catching breath and kissing lazily on your lips.

"I love you" you whisper softly, pushing his sweaty hair away from his forehead.

"I love you too noona. So much" he murmurs "but..."

"But what?" you look at him, frowning.

"... but that puppy pillow is now ruined forever for me" he sighs in shame.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #skz imagine #skz hard thoughts #skz seungmin #kim seungmin #seungmin smut #seungmin x y/n #seungmin x you #seungmin x reader #sub skz #sub seungmin #sub stray kids #sub kim seungmin #seungmin sub #kim seungmin sub

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neonovember · 23 days

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OH MY GOD CARMYS GF (READER) GETTING HER FIRST TATTOO AND HIM COMFORTING HER AND HELPING HER TAKE CARE OF IT DURING THE HEALING PROCESS OR WHATEVA‼️💳💥💳💥 IDK I WAS JUST SITTING HERE AND THOUGHT OF IT IF YOU DOJT WANNA WRITE IT THATS OKAY

could even make the tattoo be his name or his initial or somethin 🤯🤯🤭😏

love you and your writing 😚

thanks for keeping us fed 😌

carmen berzatto x reader

okay so yes, maybe hozier has jolted me out of my writers block. i'm just a women after all.

Inked Devotion

this request was fun! i really didn't know what to make the tattoo so i left it a blank slate for whatever you wanna imagine, hope that's okay!

word count: 1.7k

things; tattoos, mentions of braces, carmen's unyielding devotion to you

Your eyes dart across the tall walls lined with inked models and men in dark beards nervously. You can't shake the tension that seems to imprint itself under your skin, your knees jittering with a rapid tap against the linoleum floors.

When you had brought up wanting to get a tattoo, a half joking mutter under your breath as you traced the many littered on Carmen’s body you hadn’t anticipated to actually go through with it.

And yet here you were, shaking like a leaf despite the diffuser jutting out whisper of eucalyptus that was meant to be calming. Whilst Monica, a woman you'd meant a handful of times ran through the list of after care necessities you should be listening to.

You can’t though, you don’t hear a thing as you stare unseeingly through the dark auburn tresses of her short hair, wrapped up in the thoughts that have begun to eat away at the already dwindling confidence you had when you first walked in.

“Hey, you still with me darlin’' Monica's Brooklyn drawl draws you back to her, and you duck your head sheepishly as you nod furiously. Like a goddamn high schooler getting caught looking out the window instead of listening to Hemingway.

Monica smiles toward you, humouring warmth filling her pale skin that, surprising to you, were incredibly stark of tattoos. In fact, if it weren’t for the posters taped to the walls, the black and white tiled floor, and the ominous tattoo bench in the corner you would have thought you walked it not the wrong place. It was stereotypical of you, and you had been a loud advocate for not judging a book by its cover, but goddamn, what tattoo parlour had potted plants and candles that smell like cinnamon?

“Sorry, uh, what did you say?”

“It’ll be alright, the pain really does depend on each person but Larry here will catch you if you faint on my tattoo bed” Monica winks with a smile, and you shift your gaze to the man stationed unmoving near some marked drawers, the mass of muscle hidden beneath dark jeans and a shirt bursting out of him.

It wasn’t the pain you were worried about, you had period cramps that sounded worse than that, it was more so the prospect of having your virgin skin imprinted with something forever. You had never done something like this, teenage recklessness had passed you by without a blink, and you had little to show for it but carved words on your old dresser from a knife and a dark eyeshadow phase that lasted less than a month.

It was a little pathetic, getting your first tattoo eons after any respectable age, and your trepidation seems blatantly clear as Monica shakes her head with a smile.

“Many people get their firsts well into adulthood, did I tell you about my last appointment? A 52 year old woman wanting a goddamn tramp stamp.”

You can't help but let a giggle out, the unsureness leaving you at Monica’s words

“You still want this right?’ Monica replies, and you shift your gaze to Carmen, who was already watching you fondly, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he pushes his golden strands back and gives you a nod

“It’s all up yo you gorgeous, if your having second thoughts there is a really good Thai place i wanted to che-”

“No, no I want this” You cut him off, and he chuckles softly, “Besides we already designed the stencil and everything” Carmen nods at that, placing his large palm onto your own, squeezing it with reassurance.

“Damn right we did, thinkin it's my best work yet” Monica chirps from the other side of the bed between you.

“Alright, just sit on that bed down there, get settles while I grab some things”

You nod, walking stiffly towards the leather bed, tissue paper crinkly under your weight as you shift into a comfortable position. Your eyes follow Monica like a laser, watching as she santises her hands and slides on powdered sterile gloves.

It reminds you of days spent in Dentists chairs, visions of rubbery fingers tightening wires into your teeth flashes behind the darkness of your lids. Funny, you had worried about your lack of experimental youth, and yet here you are now feeling like a kid again.

The thought makes you smile, and you open your eyes to feel the heated gaze of Carmen looming over you. Face distorting in horror when Monica’s tool makes a clatter, eyes widening comically in that way that always makes you laugh.

“Alright Doll, I’m just gonna need you to sit up for me whilst I get the skin prepped. Alcohols gonna feel a little cold to the touch, kay?” Monica says.

All you can do is nod as she rips open the matte packet, pressing it into your open skin shaved clean per her request a few prior. Who knew how much prep a tattoo would need, you were sure it was on par with even one of Carm’s dishes.

Unfortunately for you the only numbing cream useful for tattoos had something that would have made you break out in hives, so it was cold turkey for you. Monica had transformed the design into a stencil, and as she was transferring it into your skin it seemed to come to life all at once.

You had spent hours going over designs, and whilst you were extremely happy with what you both came up with, it was like when the lines and shapes had traced your skin, you finally saw it. And the moment you did you couldn't stop the wave of emotion that rushed through you, filling your eyes.

“Hey, baby, hey what is it” Carmen rushed urgently, crouching down when he noticed the way you sniffled.

“Awe doll, you don’t like the design? I’ll change it in a flash, this is just the stencil it aint permanent at all” Monica quickly stopped, looking up at you with concern

“No no, I’m fine” You squeezed Carmen “It’s so, it's beautiful Monica” You rushed out, trying to ease the lines of concern that appeared on her face. Monica bloomed at your reply, fondness heating her cheeks as she traced your skin comfortingly.

“Thank you” You whispered to her as she shushed you.

“At least we got the crying bit over and done with, it might hurt less now” She winked, before reaching for her tattoo gun.

“Ah shit” You grunted, shooting daggers Carmen's way when he snorted out loud.

Returning to your skin, Monica pressed the pointed tip of the gun to your skin, the first sink of ink burrowed into your skin causing you to clench your jaw.

Monica looked up to watch your expression with a smile,

“See, ain't too bad” Carmen replied before you gripped him white knuckled, making him wince regrettably.

It took some time, you won’t lie to yourself that is fucking hurt. But soon enough the sharp stab had resided to a dull ache, and you instead had become all too focused on the movement of Monica's hand swaying through the strokes of the design.

You were in awe, she breathed her being into it, and as the design took inches and inches of your skin you understood why she was booked out for months. With one last intricate curl, and a wipe of cleansing soap across the inked skin it was finished. Revealed to both you and Carmen's eyes in all its glory, and you both just stared.

“God, now I wish my first was as good as that instead of wonky stick and poke” Carmen said after a pregnant silence had passed.

“It..wow, yeah. Yep, I want to be buried with this” You said softly, giddiness erupting in your body as you shook your hand grasped in Carmens.

“I’m glad doll, I mean this is meant to be professional but goddamn does your skin just take it. Fuckin’ gorgeous” Monica replied, leaning back as she places the gun on the table near.

“Hey, I'll report you to HR” Carmen bitterly replies, moving you closer to his side as you laugh.

“It’s my business, I am HR” Muttering under her breath as she rolls her eyes. Wrapping your skin in adhesive sheets, Monica repeats the after care instructions, thankfully and this time you listen.

Carmen had already grabbed your things, motioning for you to start heading out after you both furiously thanked Monica for everything. You crinkled with joy as she hugged you, breathing in the smell of old spice and medical grade rubbing alcohol that followed her.

Her studded rings glistened in the afternoon sun as she waved you both goodbye, as you couldn't help but skip in your stride across the sidewalk. Finger tracing the raised blotted skin, whilst your other hand hung onto Carmen as he twirled you around.

“My gorgeous ink stained sweetheart” Carmen called to you, and you were brought back to his chest gently like a tide again.

“Thank you too, you know” You said into Carmen's cotton shirt. It was the one you got him after your first date, it had been a deep cobalt then. You regretted it just as you gave it to him, fearing you were being too forward. And then he wore it until it faded into a light blue.

“Wouldn't even have this forever on me if you hadn't been the one to bring it up again” You replied softly, fingers tracing his jaw.

“Would have spent a year learning how to tattoo myself if you wanted me too. Monica just seemed quicker” Carmen mumbled before you softly hit his chest with a smile.

“Hey, it’s true. Your skin deserves to be remembered, I could trace it till my fingers atrophied and I’d still have the memory of you under my skin memorised” Carmen divulged, eyelids drooping as he leaned down into your embrace.

You shake your head, heart panging so deeply it hurt till you pressed your lips to his. Tasting the outpour of Carmen that he let loose into you everyday.

And Carmen had stayed true to his words weeks later when it had healed, tracing it till his fingers weren't enough. Till he had to wrap his mouth around it and taste it with his tongue.

He swears even your inked skin tasted sweet.

tags <3 @parmforcarm @hansfics @kpopgirlbtssvt @nolita-fairytale

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