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tteokdoroki · 2 months

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hi hi !! :3 first off ur new theme is soo so cute!! n for your valentines event i wanted to send in one for satoru + an amusement park date as the gift !! you can make it sweet or spicy but i don’t have a specific kink in mind for it so that’s free range for ya ehehe

⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — SATORU GOJO. swipe spicy: high on you.

about. boom, it’s a match! satoru gojo has always come up with creative ways to celebrate the most romantic day of the year. this time, he decides to make things a little naughtier atop a ferris wheel ride ( 1.4K ).

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, established relationships, fingering, public sex, exhibitionism, also ik ferris wheels don’t exist at amusement parks shuddap!! fem!reader.

・:〃⤥ bumble date, swipe right event !

every valentine’s day you’ve spent with satoru has been unique. different.

for your first, he’d filled every corner of your apartment with every type of flower he could possible find because he wasn’t sure what type was your favourite (he was too nervous to ask). for the second, he’d rented out an entire aquarium for you to walk through and dragging him through each exhibition with pure unfiltered joy. for the Valentine’s Day that he had proposed — your third or fourth, satoru had rented a plane that carried the message ‘will you marry me?’ to fly over your rooftop dinner date. you’d said yes, of course, and every day with satoru since had been a wild ride.

even now, years into your life together, he remained just as crafty and as adventurous as satoru’s gojo had always been.

“s-satoru!” you squeal needily, tucking your face into your lover’s shoulder in a weak attempt to muffle your weak cries and trembling voice. “‘toru please. n-not here. n-not now,” you add when his slender and inquisitive fingers dip past the waistband of your jeans and the scalloped edge of your cotton panties. he’s been like this all day, feeling you up in line for different rides, licking the sugar from your fingers outside overpriced concessions stands dotted across the amusement park he'd taken you to. and now, satoru’s ravenousness has come to a head — with him trying to finger fuck you at the top of the ferris wheel. “p-people are around!”

while typically a romantic spot to watch the world go by, the white haired man has his heart set on making you squirm and cry at the highest peak of the ride. “that’s what makes this all the more fun, right baby?” his digits flex under the rough denim of your jeans in an attempt to get a feel for your wetness all while gojo whispers sinful words against the shell of your ear — hot breath cascading down the back of your neck and sending shivers down your spine. “relax for me, we’re too high up for anyone to notice. let me make you feel good, yeah?”

your hips buck down against your lover’s hand for a taste of friction — chasing the blistering hot sensation that spreads through your lower tummy once his fingertips come into contact with your swelling, pulsating clit. the very notion of your body succumbing to a few of gojo’s simple touches has him chuckling breathily in your ear, his voice an octave lower than usual. you can’t help the instinctual response of your quivering, a stream of wetness gathering in the seat of your underwear too.

“do you think i can make you cum by the time we reach the top?” satoru mumbles huskily, lowering his head to your neck so that he can place hot, sloppy kisses to your exposed skin — contrasting with the night air. tufts of white hair tickle at your jaw, sending you into a fit of shakes and shivers that make your cart of the ferris wheel rock back and forth. “don’t answer that, i know i can.” he’s cocky when he teases you and has every right to be, your thighs twitch apart instinctively to make space for satoru’s hand between them.

he skilfully massages your pretty little pussy even from underneath tight denim jeans, circling in your entrance as it dribbles sweet salacious nectar for him. so much so, that you might soil the fabric of your clothes. if your arousal seeps through, would you drip and gush on all those people below? the thought crosses your might and only serves to turn you on even more — evident in the way you clench around nothing as gojo plays with your empty hole.

“m-mph, satoru,” you hiccup, only tilting your head to face his. your noses nudge slightly, lips ghosting over one another’s while your hot breath mingles. to anyone else — you appear a couple in love, innocently kissing, enjoying a date to the amusement park, and a ride to the top of the ferris wheel. but you’re far from that, and you know it, two delightfully sinful individuals who can’t keep their hands off of one another. “m-more!”

gojo obliges, and you thank whatever diety is up above for blessing him with such magical fingers. two of them slide past your entrance without resistance, stretching your gooey and sensitive walls around their length easily. “hm? what’s the matter, baby?” comes the silver haired man’s lazy response, a sleazy smirk spreading across his plush pink lips at the sound of you squelching around him already. you shake your head at his question, eyes screwed shut since you’re too far gone with the pleasure to answer coherently.

from your side, gojo uses his free hand to keep you nice and spread for him — sapphire eyes glowing in the dark night whilst remaining trained on the way your hips jut down to push back against his fingers inside of you. “god you’re so fuckin’ wet. you really like this, huh? all tbose unsuspecting people below…having no idea that i’m fucking your pussy open right above their heads,” he purrs hungrily and curls his fingers, instantly finding your g-spot because he’s mapped out every inch of your sopping walls and knows them off by heart. “taste yourself for me.”

your lips part on command and tongue rolls out of your mouth to make room for the fingers that have been inside you — sucking on them diligently when satoru presses down on the palette of your tongue. he gets off to the way you taste yourself, moaning around him nastily. you should feel shame and humiliation for acting like this in public, all desperate and needy, but you’re as ravenous and as depraved as satoru is. it’s what makes you a match made in heaven.

with his fingers now tainted with a crude mix of your saliva and arousal, satoru returns them to your temperate and sopping mound — stuffing you full of him once more. he’s knuckle deep in your cunt before you can even moan his name, stroking your insides into the shape of him while you drool syrupy evidence of your arousal into the seat of his palm.

“we’re almost to the top, brace yourself, pretty girl. i gotta see you cum. it’ll give me the prettiest view.” satoru coos to you patronisingly, making sure to grind his wrist against your puffy clit — refusing to let it go unattended. “can you do that for me?”

everything is so sticky and hot, especially with all of the layers of clothes in the way — shielding your dirty act from any onlookers on the ground or in the carts below you. strings of your slick tie satoru’s fingers to your honeyed sex and glue this thumb to your sensitive nub, tucked away between your puffy pussy lips. you claw at the silver haired man’s arm trapped in the middle of your quivering thighs band writhe around in the cart so much so that it creaks with the weight.

you whimper into the cool night air, but satoru lights your body on fire from the inside out — your gut lurching and twisting with an unbearable sense of yearning. “‘m close… think i’m gonna—“ you begin to stutter, bleating like a lamb being sent to the slaughter. you remain at the mercy of your boyfriend’s fast paced fingers, pumping in and out of you with no regard to the painful stack of ecstasy building up inside of you. “please, i can’t hold it, ‘toru,”

“you don’t have to,” your lover tsks in reply, never slowing the speed of his digits stroking at your ribbed walls, slipping and sliding against pleasure spots only he knows exist. “why don’t you let go for me, yeah? there you go. that’s it… just like that and all for me,” satoru’s mouth find yours in the final stretch, sloppy praises whispered against your kiss swollen lips while he rubs over your luscious and equally swollen folds like his life depends on it. “let the people down there know how fuckin’ good i finger fuck this sweet pussy. cum for me baby, i know you can do it.”

each syllable, each impassioned word that escapes him and that he pours into you drags you by the ankle towards your high — and you don’t even try to fight it. once you reach the very top of the ferris wheel, your peak reaches a crescendo. satoru flings himself over you, arm arm wrapped around your shoulders to keep you in place in the cart as your orgasm crashes over you in drowning waves. you slip beneath the surface of pleasure, your cunt rushing like a river while you cum all over satoru’s masterful hand with a muffled cry of his name.

“satoru!”

“shh, quiet…that’s my girl, my sweet sweet girl.” he sighs dreamily, fucking you with your fingers throughout your high — only pulling out of your greedy cunt to slap down on it, dragging more spurts of arousal out of you. you squirt through your jeans, onto the metal seat in your ferris wheel cart and all over satoru. who happily praises you through it all. “i bet you’re just drippin’ on all those nasty strangers below. i’m sure they’d love it.”

catching your breath, you tuck your face into satoru’s neck while you come down from your high (and literally too — your cart begins to make its descent back town from the top of the ferris wheel). “y-you’re sick.”

satoru smiles, slow and sexy. “but you love me,”

“mhm, sure,” you quip, somehow finding the energy to pull away from your debauched lover to shift to your knees in front of him — the cool metal digging into your knees. “maybe i love you just a little.”

“only a little? then why are you on your knees for me?” he asks, spreading his legs to make room for you between them.

“it’s your turn, i want to see if i can make you come before we get to the bottom of the wheel.” you say breathlessly and with mirthy eyes, teeth descending on gojo’s zipper while you bat your eyelashes up at him.

celebrating valentine’s day with satoru was always…unique. different…but you’d be lying if you said you failed to enjoy his unconventional methods of gift giving with the person you loved most.

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bratzforchris · 10 days

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hi!! I was watching the new video and it reminded me so much of myself, so i was thinking, could you write something about Chris and autistic!reader going to a toy store and reader wants to buy so many of the toys because they never had that while growing up due to money reasons? maybe chris and reader end up buying some toys for little kids and once they're home they play with them together?? (it doesn't have to be age regression, mainly just inner child healing and lots autistic joy)

thank you if you do!! also i just recently followed you and really love the way you write, so i thank you for your service🫡

Barbies

Summary: Above! Thank you so much for the detailed request, butterfly <33

Pairing: Chris x romantic!reader (gender neutral)

Warnings: Mentions of financial troubles during childhood (?)

Word Count: 1k

A/N: This was actually such a heartwarming (and self indulgent) request to write, so thank you 🧸🎀💗 I hope you enjoy!!

If there was one thing that you had loved your whole life, it was Barbies. Ever since you were a small child you had been captivated by the beautiful dolls with their outfits and long hair that you could brush and braid. Growing up as one of four kids and as a neurodivergent child that had required extra therapies and medications, there wasn’t always a lot of extra money to go around, so the few Barbies that you did have were hand-me-downs from the girls that were your neighbors. You had promised yourself that one day you would have an entire collection of dolls to call your own. After all, the special interest had started when you were around four, and had continued to this very day, which just so happened to be your twentieth birthday.

You woke up to Chris peppering kisses across your face with a little ‘good morning, honey’, proudly holding a small plate of pancakes with a whipped cream smiley face on them. Your boyfriend eagerly handed you your plate, singing Happy Birthday cheesily. It was clear he was more excited about this than you were.

“It’s just another day, babe.” You chuckled with a soft shake of your head as you started to cut up your breakfast.

“It’s your day,” Chris insisted, poking your shoulder teasingly. “There’s gotta be something you wanna do.”

“Other than go skydiving, which we’ve addressed you’re not gonna do, there’s nothing.” You hummed, avoiding the thought in your brain to just ask him.

Chris visibly paled at the mention of jumping out of a plane. “Yeah, that one’s a no. There’s nothing you want to do? Nowhere you want to go? Nothing you want to eat?”

“Well…” You trailed off, munching thoughtfully on a piece of pancake. “There is one place, but…”

“Which is?”

“Nevermind,” You shook your head, blushing. “It’s stupid.”

“It can’t be that bad, baby,” Chris said softly. “It’s your birthday. We can do whatever you want.”

“Promise you won’t laugh?”

Chris kissed your cheek gently, knowing that his stubble sometimes bothered your sensory issues. “I won’t laugh, honey. I promise.”

You looked away shyly, blushing as you picked at a loose thread on your comforter. “You know I’ve always liked like, the Barbie movies and stuff, right? And it’s kind of a special interest?” You paused, waiting to see your boyfriend’s reaction, to which he nodded for you to keep talking. “Well, there’s this new store downtown that sells all kinds of Barbies and I was wondering if we could…go? I’ve always wanted Barbies.” You rushed out quickly, face and ears red.

Chris smiled, rubbing your hand. “I think that sounds like a perfect idea.”

“You do?”

“If it makes you happy, it’s always a good idea,” Chris kissed you gently and then stood up. “Get ready!”

For the entirety of the time it took you two to get ready, plus the car ride to the store, you were happy stimming. The mere thought of engaging with your special interest was enough to have you shaking out your wrists happily and playing with the small pop-it pin on your lanyard. Chris chuckled once the two of you got into the store, snapping a quick photo of your awe.

Your eyes went wide as you scanned up and down the rows and rows of dolls. There were all kinds of Barbies from all different generations and you gently ran your fingers across them as you searched for some you liked. Chris followed you like an obedient puppy the entire time, offering his opinion on various dolls and enjoying the warmth that radiated from your happiness. After about thirty minutes in the store, you had narrowed your choices down to ten different dolls.

“I dunno which ones to get. I like them all but I am broke.” You chuckled softly, running your finger over the smooth plastic of one of the boxes.

“Get them all,” Chris shrugged. “It’s your birthday, honey.”

“Did you miss the ‘I’m broke’ part, Christopher?” You chuckled.

“No, but this is your treat. It’s on me.”

Even though you blushed and thanked your boyfriend profusely, you didn’t have it in you to argue with him about paying. You were so consumed by your special interest that all your mind could think about was going home and playing with the new Barbies. Chris led you to the register softly, his heart swelling at the beaming smile on your face as you hummed and let out little vocal stims happily.

By the time you two had arrived back home, you were bursting at the seams to engage with your new treasures. You pulled Chris into the living room, plopping down on the floor next to the coffee table. In a matter of minutes you had carefully opened all of the boxes, laying the dolls out in a neat line.

“Will you, um, play with me?” You asked your lover softly, rubbing Chris’ fingers gently.

“Only if I get to be Ken,” Chris scoffed playfully. “Dude’s ripped.”

You chuckled and rolled your eyes, passing the brunette the dolls. You both played for a little while, with you focusing more on brushing the Barbies’ hair while Chris acted out soap-opera level scenarios that had you practically rolling on the floor laughing. All was silent for a while, until your boyfriend spoke up again, suddenly seeming nervous.

“We should make the Barbies get married.” he blushed.

“Oh?” You cocked your head curiously, wondering what he meant.

“Because if they represent us, well…” Chris paused and dug in his pocket, pulling out a small ring box. “I wanted to wait for a time that felt right for both of us, and I think that’s right now. You’re my absolute best friend, and this just confirmed that for me. I love you more than anything in the world. Will you marry me?” he asked softly, still burning red.

You had been dreaming of a Barbie life ever since you were a small child, and this definitely counted as that. “Yes!”

tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy

note ♡: if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here <3

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soobszzn · 1 year

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shut me up!

synopsis: despite his tough and confident rockstar persona, even beomgyu needed reassurance sometimes.

pairing: rockstar!beomgyu x reader

genre: fluff, semi-comfort, established relationship

content/warnings: kissing, (playful) teasing/bantering/yelling, beomgyu says ‘shut up’, beomgyu is in a (rock)band that isn’t txt

wc: 1.2k

a/n: this one’s for u, G🌼

you’d be lying if you said being a rockstar’s girlfriend wasn’t absolutely exhilarating. you’d fall asleep in one city and then wake up in the next. you’d go from private jet, to tour bus, to private jet again. life was insane, but it didn’t matter how crazy and unpredictable life had become, because beomgyu was your constant.

you knew the band’s setlist by heart at this point, but the atmosphere and energy of each night’s crowd was always a new experience. what never changed, though, were the loving gazes you shot your boyfriend as you watched from stage side.

you’d hand him a sweat towel or a bottled water whenever he stepped backstage. with no time to chat, you’d occasionally shoot him a thumbs-up or a “fighting” gesture. in return, beomgyu would alternate between quick pecks and forehead kisses as a sign of thanks.

watching him up on that stage was the best part of each day. when he was performing, he was completely in his element: his expressions were always filled with joy and excitement, and with his electric guitar in hand, he’d move dynamically across the stage without missing a beat. he’d look out into the crowd affectionately, face beaming with gratitude towards the dedicated fans.

he’d never miss a chance to turn to you and shoot a loving glance back. you knew how grateful he was that you could follow him on his first major tour. you were there for the first performance jitters, mid-tour anxieties, and now for the band’s long-awaited performance at lollapalooza.

the band had a couple hours before showtime to film content and do interviews, which left you passing time in their trailer with some staff members. you’d already sped through a book on the plane ride here, opting to mindlessly scroll on your phone as you anticipated your boyfriend’s arrival. eventually, the group returned, giving them time to decompress and prepare for their set.

you were sprawled on the couch at the end of their trailer. when beomgyu walked in, he motioned for you to lift your legs so he could take a seat. plopping himself beside you and letting your legs fall to his lap, he let out a sigh.

“how’d it all go?” you asked, turning to face him while still laying down.

“i don’t really know why we need to do so many interviews when they just ask the same stuff.” he complained as he fiddled with the hem of your pants.

“it’s only cause so many people love your music.” you lightly nudged his arm as you sat up. you leaned your arm against the sofa backrest as you rested your head in your hand. this put the two of you face to face, giving you the opportunity to look at him closely.

you loved the way his ashy purple hair fell onto his face. as a matter of fact, you loved every damn part of his face. from the warmth of his eyes to the softness of his lips, you could just never get enough. those blush pink lips of his were so irresistible, you just wanted to lean in and kiss him right then and there.

he looked at you quizzically. “what?”

“you have something on your face.” you lied, reaching to brush nothing off his cheek in embarrassment. he smiled, but it quickly faded. he let out another sigh.

“what’s wrong?” you asked with a slight pout.

“it’s my song. i’m scared people aren’t gonna like it.” he confessed, now hunched over with his forearms resting in his lap. you had almost forgotten that the band was planning to premiere a new song tonight. and it wasn’t just any new song, it was a song beomgyu had produced.

“what if nobody reacts? what if they leave during our set? what if they start booing? i’d be a failure of a musician!” he cried, now sitting slumped on the couch. he was bouncing his leg and staring off into space, and you just knew his mind was racing.

“stop stop stop!” you exclaimed through a laugh. his concerns were understandable, but you had to admit he looked a bit silly whining the way he did.

“why are you laughing?” he asked with a pout this time.

“because you sound a bit silly,” you replied cheekily, in hopes the teasing would cheer him up a bit.

“i’m being serious.” he said quietly.

“i know, and i get it. but you’re so good at what you do.” you reassured him.

“but this is lollapalooza. it’s a big deal. it’s a huge deal for us.” he replied in a bothered tone.

you had a feeling beomgyu’s worries were the main contributor to his now souring mood. but a part of you was beginning to get annoyed at the fact that he just wasn’t listening to you.

“you’re being stubborn.” you blurted out, regretting it immediately.

“i am not! god. maybe i should just take it off the setlist now while i still have a chance.” he replied defensively, quickly standing up from the couch.

“can you stop it!” you cried, also standing up to face him. “you’re being so annoying. you don’t see what i see.”

he looked at you perplexed.

“i know how much time and effort you put into your music, gyu. but most of all i see how talented you are,” you spoke earnestly, unintentionally starting an impromptu rant at your boyfriend.

“people love your music. why do you think you got invited here?” you continued, noticing his expression soften. “even though you’re the one on stage, i watch the crowd too. they eat it all up, they love you guys!”

“it annoys me because you don’t get it. you don’t get that your music is loved by so many!” you continued on your tirade. beomgyu inched his way closer to you. “you annoy me because you don't see how much you are loved!”

“and not just by me-mmph-” your words were suddenly interrupted by a pair of lips on yours.

cupping your cheeks in his hands, beomgyu guided your face closer to his. he deepened the kiss before pulling away and saying “and that’s all that matters.”

“i’m sorry for being stubborn,” he apologized, looking at you softly. you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck.

“everyone’s going to love your new song. i promise.” you mumbled into his chest after a few seconds of silence. then, you looked up at him.

he whispered “thank you” before kissing your nose.

an absolute success; that’s what you’d call their performance.

beomgyu was absolutely electric on that enormous stage. and maybe it was the bias in you, but his band had to have been the highlight of the weekend. the energy of the crowd was unmatched, and the familiar melodies of their discography were transformed into amplified versions of themselves.

the reveal of your boyfriends’ newly produced track was met with an eruption of cheers. you watched fondly as beomgyu gleamed, face softening with both relief and delight. your heart was bursting with happiness, feeling so incredibly proud of him.

the second his band finished their set, you watched beomgyu hug his bandmates as they made their way off stage. they were all smiling so brightly, but your boyfriend’s smile was most infectious. on his way backstage, he thanked the stage crew and staff members as he caught his breath, coming down from his “performance high.”

then, you noticed his eyes start to wander and you had a feeling he was looking for you. you raised yourself up on your tippy toes and waved to get his attention. you met eyes, and the sweaty, out-of-breath boy made his way directly to you with absolute excitement. his ashy purple hair was almost matted to his forehead, skin glistening with perspiration. and you loved it.

immediately taking you into his embrace, he lifted you up and spun you around. you latched onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“i told you they’d love it.” you said cheekily as he set you down.

“can you shut up?” he teased with a smirk before pressing your lips together.

#soobszzn #choi beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x y/n #beomgyu x you #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu oneshot #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu fic #beomgyu fanfic #tomorrow x together #txt #txt beomgyu #txt x reader #txt x you #txt fluff #txt oneshot #txt headcanons #txt imagines

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starlightnorris · 9 months

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at every table, i'll save you a seat - charles leclerc

requested: yes

charles: missing you mon ange, i saved a seat for you

you read the message from charles, smiling at the accompanying picture of the empty seat across from him at the table. this had become your norm. everywhere he went, he would always send a picture of an empty seat beside him, always telling you that the seat was for you.

it was cheesy, there was no doubt about it, but it never failed to make you smile when he was away. you loved getting to watch charles race, but the distance was never easy. whenever possible, you would travel with him, but with your own career and responsibilities, the two of you both had to sacrifice a lot of time apart.

but what charles didn’t know, is that you weren’t actually working this weekend. instead, you were sitting in the airport getting ready to board a plane headed to belgium. it wasn’t your original plan, you really had needed to work, but you’d decided to take the time off and surprise charles at the grand prix.

when you found your ride, you were shaking with nervous energy, the thought of seeing charles becoming almost too much. it didn’t matter how much time the two of you spent together, the butterflies were always there and the true joy of seeing him and spending time with him never went away.

you texted carlos, letting him know you were finally on site, making your way to where they currently were. when you finally spotted the boys, surrounded by various ferrari crewmembers, you felt your heart grow in your chest. you’d always loved charles, essentially growing up together and falling in love from a young age, and seeing him now, you felt that love grow.

navigating through the crowd of people, you met the eyes of some of the people you knew, watching as knowing smiles spread across their faces. “is this seat taken?” you ask, coming up behind charles.

his head whips around and he takes you in with wide eyes before a smile spreads across his face. “mon ange, what are you doing here?” he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before moving to your lips.

“surprise,” you say softly, failing to hold back the smile. “i missed you.”

“i missed you too mon ange,” he says, brushing a strand of hair away from your face before pressing another soft kiss to your lips. “and don’t worry, at every table, i’ll save you a seat.”

“so romantic, charles leclerc,” you say, feeling the blush spread across your cheeks. “i love you.”

#charles leclerc #formula 1 #f1 #f1 x you #charles leclerc x reader #formula one

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sprout-fics · 9 months

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Rotes Mädchen: Chapter 5

(Werewolf! König x Red Riding Hood! Reader)

(Art by the lovely @zwienzixes)

(Masterlist)

Word count: 5.6k Rating: PG-13 Tags: Werewolf! König, Fairytale AU, Monster Hunters TF141, Traditional German Fairytale setting, World Building/Lore, F! Reader, Sexual tension, Slow burn, Domesticity, Literal sleeping together, Bed sharing, Angst/Comfort, Fluff Warnings: Sexual harassment by unnamed characters

In the days that follow, you begin to feel your heart unfurl.

You wake before König most mornings, pad on bare feet to the hearth with its still glowing embers and allow fire to blossom under your hands. The infant flames ward off the growing chill of dawn, light against the planes of your face until they crackle against the logs. It's the sound of splintering wood and bubbling steam from the kettle that often wakes König, who refuses to draw from bed. Instead, he tucks himself closer into the covers, growls at the thought of wakefulness and dozes a little longer. You find it oddly endearing, and it makes sense, given his seemingly nocturnal nature and with the both of you spending long hours into the night talking about all manner of things.

"I've always loved the stars." He tells you one late evening, while you perch in the loft with him, a shawl draped over your shoulders and legs dangling over the edge. He gazes up at the beams of the cabin as if he can see the sky beyond. "I learned when I was a boy to navigate by the sky. I know the winter constellations- see?" He leans over to you, shoulders bumping and raising a hand to trace invisible paths beyond the ceiling. "There's der Wasserman, the water bearer- and der Widder, the ram."

You smile, lean further into him as if you can somehow see the heavens beyond his gaze. He smells like ferns, of damp soil and pine. It floats through your thoughts, holds you cradled against his side until your eyes grow heavy to the sound of his voice.

When you wake the next morning, you find yourself in your bed, one of his blankets tucked around your shoulders, and the faint memory of being aloft in his arms.

The blanket smells like him.

König stays inside during the daytime lest he be seen by your neighbors. You venture out on most days, relishing the sunlight on his behalf. There's always work to be done in the village, and for you, who lives alone, that goes thrice fold. You hike up your skirt as you chop wood for the stove, dig through damp earth for mushrooms and roots to trade for meat, gather apples from the wild orchards, let bread dough rise above the hearth so the scent fills the cottage. Normally the things that feel mundane, perhaps even a hindrance, are now tinted with a soft sense of joy- knowing that once they are finished you return home to him and his company.

There's a tenderness in your heart that you fail to notice at first. It blooms like soft spring flowers, hides the gentle pale of its petals until sunlight washes over it. The air you breathe feels lighter, scented with rosemary hanging from the rafters, filling your lungs in a way that is wholly unfamiliar and yet so welcome. It feels much like the sound of his voice, the brief glancing touches he seems almost afraid to offer. When you meet his stare, the green of his eyes feels like a misty springtime meadow.

König is gentle with you in a way no one else has ever been. He's a touch shy, but in a way that's blessedly endearing. He calls you by soft names, Fraulein, Liebchen, and your favorite: Rotty- a play on your red cloak. He drapes it around you one morning, tying the ribbon with fumbling fingers as his eyes dart from yours to the lopsided bow. When you smile at the sound of his voice, his eyes alight with joy that bleeds into your soul. The companionship between you two comes as naturally as breathing, two lonely souls gently entwining themselves against the growing November frost to keep warm the slow filling of your hearts.

You can't deny the glances you steal when he isn't looking, watching the way he stretches so his just too-small shirt rides up the planes of his stomach or the reach of his muscular arms as he climbs the ladder to the loft. You thought his build was wiry at first, the way he was hunched in his cave, frightened and scared. Yet the more König shares your meals with you the more he fills out, adding bulk to the broadness of his shoulders and thighs.

"See something you like, fraulein?" He asks playfully when he catches you ogling him one evening as the fire glows warmly against his skin. You only return the humor in his voice with your grin.

"I like you." You reply and laugh when he splutters. Yet then he rubs the back of his neck and turns, and the moment is lost.

There's a strangeness between you two that falls in the silence. You lay awake in your bed at night, listening to him snore softly in the loft, and feel your face warm when you wonder what it would be like to fall asleep in his arms. You remember the way he relaxed into your embrace when you looped your arms around him from behind on the night he told you of his mother, wishing he would draw you closer into him in the same way you wanted him. You want to feel the warmth of him bleed into you, chase away the distant ache of your heart as he whispers your name in the darkness.

You...might want him.

Yet, you aren't sure if König wants you.

It goes beyond his shyness. There seems to be a hesitancy to König sometimes that you can't fully understand. Every time he draws closer, lets his voice grow a touch softer, and you think maybe he'll reach out and touch you, he withdraws. Almost as if he doesn't trust himself, as if he won't allow himself. There’s secrets in him that wind around his heart like brambles. You want to reach out in the space he's left absent, tell him to come closer. Yet König seems to know that he might prick your fingers, draw red from the pad of your thumb like the same curse that befell Aurora.

He seems haunted by something you can't see, something that makes him toss and turn on some nights, muttering in his sleep. Yet by the time you climb up to the loft to try to wake him, he's settled once more into stillness, and his nightmares remain a mystery. Come morning his eyes are full of warmth, and the affection in them is sometimes so profound you have to avert your gaze as your face warms under his stare.

You wish he would tell you the things he is hiding, hope that it fills the unknowable distance between you so you can indulge in the feeling of his embrace. Maybe if he tells you, he’ll allow himself to harbor affections for you in the same way you do for him. You wonder, sometimes, if you'll ever get to know the things concealed by the brambles of his heart. Maybe if you push too hard he'll leave you, and you'll be alone again.

You wish...he would stay.

-----

When you arrive at Laswell's, the mood is sour.

You enter into a quiet scene, one filled only by the hushed discussions around Laswell's table and the crackling hearth beside it. They seem not to notice you as you enter and close the door behind you. You eye your companions uneasily, instantly able to discern the low, roiling tone of frustration and restlessness that permeates the cottage.

Price is leaning back in his chair at the table, arms crossed, brow furrowed, having not even lit his pipe- a tell-tale sign of uneasiness. Beside him, Soap leans into his hands with a similar expression, listening to whatever hushed words Laswell is saying to them. Gaz casts them anxious looks from where he crouches near the hearth, tending the flames. You feel the atmosphere press heavily down on your shoulders, stale the air in your lungs as you perch nervously by the heavy oak door.

It's Ghost who notices you, dark eyes flicking up to yours with a quiet greeting. It seems to startle the rest of them from their reverie, eyes turning towards you as you approach with a tender, anxious smile.

"Red." Laswell breathes, and the flintiness fades from her stare into something more familiar. "Please, come sit."

You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should interrupt what seems to be a serious discussion. Yet there seems to be a relief in the expressions of your friends, so you settle on the chair Laswell has kicked out with her foot for you, depositing a basket of goods atop the table.

"What's all this?" Soap asks, quick to rifle through the contents of the basket, pulling aside the cloth atop it with eager fingers.

"Some bread, jam, dried fruit, a little bit of lamb." You supply, grinning as Soap's eyes light up happily. The announcement seems to dispel the growing air of anxiousness in the cabin with a sigh of gratitude. "I figured it's a lot to feed four hungry witchers. I'd rather you not eat Kate out of house and home."

Gaz strides over as well, plucking a glass jar of jam from Soap's hands and examining it with a broad grin. He turns it over in his hands a few times before his gaze alights upon you, eyes relieved and appreciative.

"I haven't had blackberry jam in ages." He conveys softly, a touch tender but more than pleased. "Usually we're eating on the run- rabbits, squirrels, boar if we're lucky."

"Snakes too." Soap tells you over a mouthful of bread, wasting no time in devouring some of the food. You think you might hear his stomach growl. "Ghost won' eat em. Can't blame him, they're a little gamey."

"I hate snakes." Ghost offers lowly with a mild sneer, though he too draws closer to the table, plucking a few dried apples and pocketing them for later.

"This was very sweet of you, Red." Price offers from where he sits, face relaxed from his previous scowl. His words are soft, reassuring, and seem to seep away the remnants of taut unrest from the room. You feel your shoulders relax, smiling in return at his friendly, beholden gaze.

"Did you walk here by yourself?" Laswell asks, and you turn to her to see her concerned gaze flicker across her gray eyes.

The unspokenness of the threat that continues to linger in the woods weighs heavy on her words. You needn't be reminded. The entire journey over here, despite the brightness of daylight dappling through the canopy above, was fraught with memories of a massive black shadow in the woods. Even now you can't shake the memory of glowing eyes at the periphery of a haloed lantern, gleaming in the darkness, watching.

"It's still bright out." You explain, shaking off the thought. "I'll be back before dark too. I promise."

Kate looks a little unconvinced, and though she opens her mouth to speak, she's interrupted by a grunt of disapproval from Soap as Gaz tries to wrestle a roll out of his hands. The two bicker for a moment before Laswell sighs, levies them with a stern look and gentle reminder of "Boys." that has both witchers instantly obey and duck their heads in apology.

"Let them eat, Kate." Price sighs, rubbing a hand over his face wearily. "They'll need their strength."

That seems to pass through the group like an electric current, summoning the bright flash of eyes and coiled muscles in response to Price's words. You blink at the return of this tense atmosphere, slide your eyes to Laswell's pinched expression. She catches your gaze, holds your stare for a long moment.

"The full moon is the night after tomorrow." Kate confesses quietly, and her hands reach between you to settle upon yours in your lap. You look from them to her face, your expression open with concern.

"But-" You manage, realization drawing across your thoughts. "You haven't found the wolf."

Somehow, it's Ghost's eyes you land upon in the room of averted gazes. The masked witcher refuses to look away for a few moments, and you think that if you peer past the mask you can see the tightness of his brow in frustration.

"There's been no sign of it." Gaz confesses quietly. "Not since that night."

That night, weeks ago now, the one where you had met them for the very first time. The one where you had allowed yourself a single look over your shoulder to see the mammoth, ragged shadow that seemed to blot out the light of the moon. It had gazed after you, your red cape fluttering behind you as Price rode off into the darkness, feeling the glowing stare of it chasing behind your thoughts.

"You injured it." You breathe, remembering Price at your door soon after. "Maybe...maybe you killed it?"

Price shakes his head, lips a thin line. "We would have found the body by now."

"T-then maybe you chased it off." You try, voice a little firmer now. "Maybe it got injured and retreated up to the mountains."

It's Soap who offers you a quiet, concerned gaze, having placed down his food. "Even if that were true, lass, it will come back. The thing needs blood, it needs to eat."

You feel an icy wave of dread wash over you, one that's not warmed by the crackling hearth at your back. Gaz nudges his friend a touch harshly, scowling.

"Don't scare her." Gaz warns quietly, and Soap levies a glancing frown at him.

"Not tryin’ tae scare her." He retorts, rubbing the spot on his arm. "She needs to know."

You swallow. Your throat feels dry.

"Know...what?" You venture quietly, and Soap turns to you once more, eyes softening as he takes in your frightened gaze. Yet it's Price who responds to your query.

"Your village." Price offers solemnly, and all eyes in the room draw to his hunched posture, his darkened gaze. "Many may die."

Devastating silence.

You stare at Price, your horror written clear across your face. The cabin suddenly feels too small, too thin, the perimeter of the woods pressing closer in on you. Suffocating. When you breathe, it isn't the familiar smell of dried herbs and bubbling stew. No, you swallow and taste the phantom scent of blood.

"W-what do you mean?" You manage, voice very small, wavering with fright.

Price stares at you grimly, and there's a faint concern to his stare that is shielded by the grave nature of his words.

"A wolf of this size may not stop at slaughtering livestock." He explains, voice low in prophetic warning. "We've seen what a monster like this can do. Even if you board your windows, lock your doors, paint the hinges with wolfsbane, it may not be enough to stop it."

A vision washes over you as you stare at the captain, eyes bright with fear. Your thoughts play the image of a massive, snarling beast destroying the walls and doors of houses, of snatching your neighbors from their homes and crushing them between its jaws as red seeps into the earth below a heavy, full moon. Screams slice through the air, and even with arrows lodged in the creature's back it only snarls, cuts through flesh with gigantic, glinting claws.

None will be safe.

"Red." Laswell presses forward, tone urgent. "Please. Come stay here. I know you don't want to leave your home, but it isn't safe. We can protect you. I don't-"

Laswell swallows, oddly emotional. Her gray eyes alight with a sudden insistency that plucks at your ribs. "I can't lose another friend." She whispers, feather light like graveyard mist. "Please."

Your face falls, mouth snapping shut as you regard your friend.

Gently, the soft smell of ferns, of earth and musk washes across your senses, draws you back through the winding forest paths and up the steps of your cottage. There, it's a familiar voice, gentle and pleased that greets you, that skims across your skin and leaves glowing captivation in its wake. His soft words wind around your thoughts, draw you closer to him, into the sensation of your arms wrapped around him while he whispers a question to the starlit sky, and to you.

“Would you ever leave?”

“…Yes.”

You can't leave him.

It's not that König needs you, you realize, but that you need him.

The realization thunders inside your chest hard enough to make you jolt, blink until your eyes focus once more on the woman in front of you. Kate's face is ashen with concern, and you swallow under the intensity of her stare, hands trembling.

Maybe, you think, maybe you can find a way to protect him, to keep you both safe, to bring him to your new friends without the promise of his destruction. If you can do that, if you can keep him until dawn rises on the third day-

"Just one more day." You whisper, even as the waxing moon inches closer towards fullness with every heartbeat.

"Just one more day."

-------

Your words linger in the back of your mind as you meander in the direction of the village. It's not dark, not yet, but the sunlight is fading beyond the trees, hiding behind the hills. The dimness nestled in the shadow of the valley slowly falls as a curtain over the forest and the creatures within it.

Price had once more offered you an escort back to the village, but you'd gently refused him. You need the time alone to think, and between the crowdedness of Kate's cottage and your sheltered guest back at your own, the woods offered a welcome respite from the tumult of your thoughts.

The threat of the wolf, of the monster you saw that night murmurs inside your chest with a heavy, consuming dread. Your dreams continue to be plagued by the beast, offering visions of your red cape snagged in brambles as you race through the darkened, misty woods. The wolf chases you, the earth thundering under your feet as you flee. When you stumble, fall, the creature halts to raise his fanged muzzle to the heavy yellow moon, howling a cursed abraxas before his glinting eyes fall upon you once more.

It's been several weeks now since that night, but the fear the monster presents has yet to fade. Now, in the imminent promise of the carnage to come, you huddle into yourself, look to the trees and wonder if these woods will be the same as they once were once all is over.

You're terrified, of course. For yourself, yes, but for your friends, fit to fight as they are. Soap's story of his young, brawny squad mates falling one by one to a werewolf's claws ripples across the vision of all of them, and you try not to imagine them befalling the same fate. The image of your tiny, unassuming village devastated by the wrath of a singular behemoth feels less like a nightmare and more like an imminent prophecy.

As you look down the streets just as you meet the edge of town, you try not to imagine them streaked with blood and ash, houses torn asunder and the mangled corpses of your neighbors strewn across the lanes. You feel powerless to stop it, knowing the fate that awaits you all, but unable to protect anyone. Not even yourself.

Not even him.

Your house glows with warm, welcoming lantern light in the distance, smoke curling from the chimney with the gentle whisper of birch across your senses. You know the sound of the voice that will greet you, know the soft skim of his fingers and the unblinking interest in his eyes he never speaks. You know you'll both talk long into the evening as you always do, laugh over steaming mugs of cider until your eyes droop heavy and he offers a ginger murmur of "Sleep, Rotty."

You want these evenings to go on forever, you think. Your home is no longer the hollow, empty thing it once was. It feels warm, full, embraced in a tender touch that soothes the lonely fringes of your soul. The presence of him feels so much like the pine scented cradle of the woods around you, something that holds you safe, ensconced in protection. It whispers words to you that you can't understand, but you know in your heart all the same.

Home.

A home about to be ravaged, destroyed, and perhaps him with it.

He asked you once before in a desperate plea not to tell the witchers of his presence, too afraid they might see a leper like him as something not human- a threat. You've worked hard to earn his trust, relish in the gift of it bestowed in chuckled laughter and fleeting touches. To betray it, to tell Laswell that as much she wants to protect you, you need to protect someone too, to reveal him to the people who may very well want to hurt him-

You pause just beyond the stone fence of your yard, look up at the small slope leading to your front door, and once more feel your chest ache with terrible indecision.

You can protect him, you think in a silent, daring hope. You can protect him just a little longer from them.

As your hand lands on the wooden gate to your garden there's a voice that calls out behind you, and you freeze.

You can't make out the words, slurred and unintelligible as they are, but it's the tone that makes you pause, your startled expression peeking from under your red hood.

A man stumbles his way towards you. You recognize him. He's one of the hunters' sons, a lanky, young fellow with large, boyish ears and scruffy dark hair. He's smiled at you before, but the intentions behind his eyes had seemed anything but gentle. The night you, Soap, and Gaz rode through the town square you think you might have seen him, silent as the accusation of your impurity rang hollow against your curled form.

He's holding something in his hand, and you shy away from him as he approaches, untrusting of the staggered sway of his feet and sinister sprawl of his lips. Your stomach roils with acute awareness, skin suddenly cold beyond the chill of sunset.

"Guten Abend." He greets casually, slurring his words. He leans on the corner post of your fence as you try and subtly shift towards your front door, senses awash with danger. "You looked so lonely walking home, fraulein. May I keep you company?"

"No." You respond quickly, voice flat. You scowl at him, trying to clearly display your steadfast disinterest, but the waver of your voice fails to conceal your fright. He seizes on it, straightens and takes a step towards you. It only makes you take a noticeable step back. "Please leave."

The hunter’s son frowns at that, pauses to raise the bottle in his hand to his lips. The wine inside runs a red rivulet down his chin. Yet the ire in his expression is gone in a moment, replaced once more by his ill-intentioned grin.

"It's almost the full moon." He croons, straightening and running one hand over the fence posts as he saunters towards you. You slip inside the gate as he does, chastising yourself for never fixing the latch. Your frowning disposition has taken on a skittish anxiety now as he tries to close the distance, instincts blaring with alarm as he continues. “It's dangerous to be here alone, by yourself."

I'm not. You almost say, jaw snapping shut before you can reveal the presence of König inside.

"I can protect you." He goes on, resting a heavy hand on your gate you'd closed behind you, and your skin prickles at the brazen encroachment on your territory, hands shaking at your sides. "I can keep you safe from the wolf."

"I don't need your help." You bite back, hackles rising now at the threat this man poses to you. Though you tremble where you stand you still plant your feet, raise your voice in an effort to ward him away from you and your home. "You need to leave."

The ire returns in the form of a sneer, and before you can stop him the man swings the gate wide and makes towards you with a growl. You skid on your feet for a moment before racing up the hill to your door, making it inside moments before his fist pounds on the wood. When he tries for the handle you’re quick to latch it, preventing him from entering. It does nothing to calm his temper, and he shoves at the door with your back pressed to it.

"You think you're better than us!" He yells abruptly from beyond the threshold, and you tremble as you desperately press yourself to the door, feeling it shake under his blows. "You're nothing more than a common whore! You and that witch have seduced those men, we can tell!"

Witch.

The accusation pulses through you like an axe to wood, bludgeoning your fragile nerves and making your hands rise to your mouth to contain a shuddering cry of despair. It’s a curse, a jinx meant only for ruin. Once you’ve been accused to the village of such a thing, no amount of protest could ever prove your innocence. Laswell, even with her gray-eyed wisdom, wouldn’t be able to escape.

Neither would you.

He’s cursed you both.

"I bet you're a witch too! Just like her!” He bellows, kicking the base of the door so hard you squeak a shrill, high sound choked in your throat. “You probably brought the wolf here yourselves to kill us all!!"

You can barely hold yourself upright, terrified beyond measure as the door trembles. The earth rolls underneath your feet, shuddering along with your form. Fear, dread, realization bubbles as a deadly potion inside your veins, making your whole body tremble and sway unsteadily. The drum of your heartbeat is fit to burst, the thrum in your ears thunderous, nearly blocking out the man’s voice.

“Do you hear me?! You’ll be the death of us all!!”

A shadow looms over you, falling across your figure and blotting out the warm haze of lantern light. You whimper on instinct, mind discerning just another threat as the body above you leans to brace his wide palms on the door. He leans to keep it from shaking at your back, green eyes watching you shake and shiver, hands pressed to your mouth to silence your cries.

"Don't listen." König tells you, loud enough for only you to hear. His voice is gentle, a startling juxtaposition to the man on the other side of your door. You cling to it desperately, trying to find an anchor amidst the fear and confusion of this sudden assault even as the man yells and pounds at the door. König remains silent, still, pressing his weight against it to try and keep it from trembling. His eyes look down at you even as tears threaten your own, feeling so much like a little girl lost in the woods with no way to escape.

At last, your accuser grows tired, hurls a few remaining curses at you before you hear him stumble down your garden and back towards the main road. You listen to him leave, take several long minutes to be entirely sure of his absence before finally unleashing a trembling, shaking breath of relief.

König waits a long moment before he removes his palms braced above you, no longer crowding you with his massive frame. Yet he doesn’t move away from you just yet, lingers before you even as you breathe into your palms, watery gaze cast to the floor. It’s only once his hand catches your chin, tilts you up to his masked gaze that he speaks.

“Rotty.” He whispers, that beloved nickname he’s bestowed upon you, now spoken with such tender hushed concern. “Are you alright?”

Your lip trembles as you look up at him, face warm with mortification, fear, and anger all rolled into one. Your eyes threaten tears, and through them you can see the soft, worried light of his gaze onto you. He holds you as if you’re something fragile, threatening to break apart should he dare touch you. Yet the warmth of him is undeniable, a flickering hearth that draws you closer. You desperately want to bask like springtime flowers under the dappled sunlight of his stare.

Like home. Your mind offers again, unbidden, and the thought is enough to finally make the tears overspill. A sob cracks your throat, the desperation of loneliness bubbling up in a cry before you can stop it, sending you hurtling into his chest.

You fall into him, arms stretching to wrap as far around the trunk of his form as they’ll go. König jolts at the unexpected touch, coiling in surprise. His hands flutter uncertainly over you, as if he’s not entirely sure where to put them. You think perhaps he’ll pull away, will gently pry himself from you with a hushed apology. He’s constantly like that, allowing himself to dance closer to your flickering flame, only to pull away once more into the shadows. So, your arms fasten around him, fists gripping at the fabric of his shirt in a silent bid to keep him there just a little longer.

Slowly, he eases, allows himself to unwind with a barely audible exhale. His hands descend to your shoulders, soothe downwards to your back, pressing you closer into him as you shudder. You drink in the scent of him, moss and rosemary that floats down from the rafters, of damp soil that coats your fingertips in a beloved embrace. There’s a part of you in this moment that thinks perhaps you’ve known him all your life, have been wandering these woods in search of him without knowing it ever since you were a child- lost and lonely…

…and now found.

“It’s alright, Schatz.” He murmurs in a hushed reassurance, buoying you against him as you desperately try to contain your sobs. His hands grip at you as if he’s trying to memorize the press of your figure against his, as if it will be the last time he will ever hold you. It summons a fresh bout of tears to your eyes, throat thick with a gasping sob as you nestle further into his chest.

“They can’t hurt you.” He goes on, and his voice takes on a dangerous intonation, the semblance of growl reverberating against your wet cheek. You feel his nails dig into your shoulder for the briefest of moments, as if suddenly sharpened by his anger, only to relax less than a heartbeat later. The meaning of his words is left unsaid but echoes in the scarce space between you all the same.

“I won’t let them.”

He allows you several long minutes of your shoulders trembling under his palms before he gently slides his arms around you, bending to cradle an arm beneath your legs. He lifts you to him, and you go without protest, looping your arms around his shoulders and tucking your chin under his jaw. He’s gentle as he moves, careful of where he steps and oddly different from his typical clumsy nature. After a few moments he slowly descends, releasing you so you gingerly slide into your bed.

Yet when he tries to carefully remove your arms around his shoulders you make a whimpering sound of protest, webbing your fingers together in an unbreakable hold.

“Please.” You whisper, throat hoarse from crying, afraid he’ll refuse you. “Stay.”

König pauses, until he releases his inhibitions with a soft exhale. “Of course, Rotty.” He murmurs, and moves to arrange himself beside you in bed, hauling you back into his embrace and curling around you protectively.

The last of your sobs abate, but the fear and worry there remains behind. You cling to König as if that will keep him by your side, protecting you from the curse about to befall your beloved valley in the shadow of the monster. You wind yourself around him like ivy, desperately trying to never part from him, keep him nestled in the hollow of your heart as long as you’re allowed. His deep, even breaths whisper across your skin, feeling like the barest whisper of a breeze through aspen trees.

“I’ll keep you safe.” He vows in a sacred whisper to you, an oath you shut your eyes against, wanting it desperately to be true. His arms close around with a sudden ferocity so fervent it steals the air from your chest. “I’ll protect you, Rotty. I won’t let them touch you.”

You stay silent, allowing the meaning of his words to wash over you. The secrets between you remain unspoken, and as desperately as you want to understand them you settle for this instead- the heat of him, the curl of his body around yours, the press of his hand in your hair, the arm settled heavy across your form that shelters you from the world. You try to memorize it, try to imbue it into the repository of your memories so that if you survive the imminent cataclysm you’ll continue to remember him.

One more day, you remind yourself with a silenced whisper. One more day here, with him. With us.

You send a prayer up to the heavens that after all of this is over you’ll both walk into the woods hand in hand, having found each other after a lifetime of wandering the fern lined paths.

The moon grows heavy in your thoughts.

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aclowntiny · 5 months

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Skz as type of dads? 🥹

CRYING YES QUEEN/KING/MONARCH 👑🥹 kept this open for the kids to be biological or adopted or perhaps some of both for all family types 🥰 plus I’m a huge supporter of adoption personally hehe

Today is US Thanksgiving but fuck that ‘holiday’ here’s a post 🤙🏻

Stray Kids as Dads

Bang Chan

♡ Such a caring and protective dad, like his kids will never get hurt on his watch or his name isn’t Christopher Bang

♡ Being an eldest brother, he’s an absolute champ caring for them, like the moment they’re born he’s rolling up his sleeves and helping out, screw gender norms or the idea of the dad not helping. Being present with his children is a joy and honor.

♡ Would probably like the idea of a mid-sized family, probably a family of three like he had! Still manageable but no one’s lonely or received unfairly high expectations. Especially if they end up being closer in age, that’s ok because they’ll get along better instead of being teens enlisted to care for a baby or something of the like.

♡ Such a multi-talented man is a wonderful mentor to any interests the kids have, easily able to foster and participate in nearly any hobby- sports, singing, dance, acting, playing instruments, you name it!

♡ I can so see him loving to run around with the kids on his shoulders, grinning at the way they laugh and coming up with all sorts of vehicles and steeds to be, whether they want a spaceship ride, a horsie, a plane, or a dragon! Absolutely soft for their pleading to indulge their play.

♡ As a boy dad, Chris views it as super important to model what it truly means to be a man- no toxic masculinity here though! He treats you like royalty so his son(s) know how to treat and provide for their partner someday. He teaches them to fight for what they believe in and be brave. Many of the same things are true for girls, too, but he treats them like absolute princess(ess) too to make sure they don't settle for any less from a man! Indulges dress-up and teaching them martial arts alike because they're his princess(es) but also they must be protected and unafraid to fight back! No one gets the better of his babies!

Lee Know

♡ Acts like he’s got everything under control, but on the inside he’s freaking out a little 🤏🏻

♡ Proud dad OMG. Every milestone and first that gets experienced, he is sharing it and telling everyone even if it’s completely normal. Like crawling for the first time? Amazing. Absolutely stellar. That’s his kid, you know.

♡ Leans more toward a smaller family like he had, maybe one or two children…and the cats, of course! He adores the idea of being able to pour all the love and care into his little family and give extra attention to you and the kid(s).

♡ Loves kitchen time with your kid(s), doing anything remotely dangerous like cutting or frying on his own but otherwise giving them near free reign! It's messy, sure, but it's also a life skill and a way they can provide for others in the future, too. Minho's kid(s) will appreciate the effort and quality that can go into meals for sure.

♡ Can be firm when he needs to be, but it's mainly in situations where they show any form of disrespect or intolerance. Beyond being happy and loved, he wants his kids to be beacons of love to everyone they meet, and that starts with teaching them that being a bully is never ok, even if it's to an annoying sibling or cousin.

♡ Boy or girl, he’s making a dancing machine out of that kid(s)! I mean, he won’t force them or anything but absolutely indulges it and becomes their biggest coach if they have any interest in dance or choreography. With a girl he’d be so soft when he twirls her and lets her stand on his feet to slow dance, a smile across his face the whole time. His son would be busting idol moves at a very young age 😎

Changbin

♡ His affection toward you increases tenfold if that's even possible once you two are starting a family! And that carries over into the kids for sure.

♡ Honestly the sappiest and goofiest dad, like he won't go a single day without telling his kids he loves them, often in a cutesy voice. Plays with them and gets down to their level so well and gets so invested in any make believe they do.

♡ The idea of having a big family is cute to him, so numbers like four or five don't scare him! But he can be talked down if you like too- Changbin mostly just wants his kid to grow up with at least one sibling like he did.

♡ Playground days are a must for him- heck, he'll be right there going down the slide with little ones in his arms and spinning on the merry-go-round with eager squeals of his own. Becomes their own personal playground, having them hang off of his arms and spin. You have so many silly pictures of them like that.

♡ Plushie theatre! Changbin will act out the most elaborate scenes with teddy bears and stuffed dogs on leashes and anything else provided to him and he will take it as seriously as if he was reciting Shakespeare. May even play music to set the scene. The kiddos laugh so hard and just eat it up every time.

♡ Has the perfect balance to be a boy and girl dad. Lets his daughters put makeup and bows on him with the biggest sappy grin and asks if he looks pretty, then turns around and plays drill sergeant with the boys. Half-jokingly, half-seriously encourages them to mix play with each other and that’s how you find Changbin in camo with blush and the boys smudging lipstick on each other’s faces while the girls try to shoot their action figures away from their dolls.

Hyunjin

♡ Really invested and emotional about the whole process, especially in the beginning. His heart just fills and overflows whenever he looks and sees the life you two are raising.

♡ The dad who’s been practicing diaper changes on dolls or others’ kids if allowed so he knows he can do it right the first time for real 🥹

♡ In his mind, a small family sounds nice, maybe spaced apart so you can spend some time with each. But when he holds his little one for the first time suddenly he looks up like ‘I want ten’. Hyperbole, don’t worry. But suddenly bigger numbers like four or five or six don’t sound so terrible if you’re game 👀

♡ Unafraid to get messy with the fam in the name of art! Hyunjin's at the table when you come home, colors splattered all over his hands and the kids' as they finger paint. Don't worry, he's covered it all up with paper and made sure at least one of the paintings is a portrait of you 😉

♡ Dresses up the kids in the most stylish outfits, like you're about to have little models on your hands! Also has a soft spot for coordinating outfits with them, whether it's family photo day or just an afternoon out with the little ones.

♡ He values all his children so much, especially the awareness that they’ll bring different beauty to the world and be perceived differently. Because of this, he encourages fortitude in all the kids, boy or girl, to be themselves and stand firmly in their interests whatever they are.

Han

♡ This man is the sweetest dad for real! Adores his kids and is always happy to show them affection 🥰

♡ Also the type of dad who tries really hard (sometimes a little too hard but that’s why you all love him 🤭) to be hip on the trends and name their generation’s memes.

♡ I can see him once he gets into the swing of things as the type to want a bigger family, maybe even more than he thought! Nothing crazy, but in his head he thought he’d feel complete after one or two, now that he has them though? Three or four doesn’t sound bad, just look at how cute they are with a sibling to play with! Kind of reminds him of the feeling of having so many brothers.

♡ You have to stop him sometimes from buying every cute toy he sees. “Do we need another playset?” “But babe, then he can run his own sushi restaurant 🥺” “Shit, that is cute, ok.”

♡ Cries when his kids cry, laughs whenever they do or at any joke they ever tell him, can hardly bring himself to scold them because he just loves them so much and doesn’t want to break their hearts!

♡ Honestly doesn’t mind if he has boys or girls, like both sound great so you’d never catch this dad sulking at a gender reveal! In the end though I can see him having one of each, and it warms your heart to see how he teaches his son(s) to respect their sister(s), value and cheer them on from a very young age. He is all of their biggest cheerleader, though, handing them mics when he’s recording or playing around in the studio, showing up to every event of theirs he physically can, and just going ‘that’s my son/daughter’ with a huge smile all the time.

Felix

♡ The type of father to describe his kids as the twinkles in his eyes! Just constantly looking at them with adoration- they’ll never wonder if they’re loved 🥹

♡ He's always wanted a family, so having little ones of his own is Felix's dream come true for sure. You'll practically have to pry them from his arms, he loves showering them in affection so much!

♡ For some reason, I see him wanting three kids, the classic 'nuclear family' size or in his words the perfect number to fill up his arms! You guys are ever-so-slightly outnumbered, but your life's also full to the brim of cuteness.

♡ A pro at bath time! Felix is the epitome of 'organized chaos' during this time, managing to get all your little ones to love the water and keep it in the tub. He knows all their favorite toys and has a voice for each one.

♡ One Mother’s/Father’s Day you awake slowly, eyes fluttering at a few clattering sounds and shushes. Your eyebrows furrow in concern, but sleep swims too quickly still beneath your eyes to pull you up. Your internal questions are answered in moments as Felix and the kids burst in with a tray of all your favorites for breakfast, all clearly handmade as the notes and drawings scattering it.

♡ Absolutely no difference in his intent with raising boys or girls… but real talk, the sweetest girl dad on the planet OMG. While he is conscious about modeling caring and providing behavior in both, curiosity and discovery regardless… he has at least one girly girl that just steals his heart and has him wrapped around her finger. Will play as whatever princess needed, incredibly active in every single tea party he can make, you name it, he does it.

Seungmin

♡ The do-it-all dad. He learns sooo much about all of their interests when they're older and reads up on everything baby/toddler before then. An absolute champ at juggling care and keeping the house afloat!

♡ All he wants in life is to do right by his family and be a man you can be proud of. No fear with jumping right in to any aspect of raising your family, even if he does crack the occasional joke.

♡ He's a bit open on number, probably leaning between two or three but more wouldn't hurt if you'd like bigger!

♡ Bedtime is one of his favorite times. Just being able to lay down with the kids and read them stories, doing funny voices and raising and lowering for suspense, fills his heart. He'll sing them lullabies until their eyes stay closed and watch for a few moments wondering how he got so lucky to have this with you of all people.

♡ Invents a whole secret language with the kids one day, so you come home and can't understand any of them. Teases the dickens out of you, grinning and bumping your shoulder and egging the kids on to say more until relenting and letting you in on the secret!

♡ He can’t decide if he’s more excited to have a son or a daughter! Practically weeps imagining playing dress up but has also always wanted a mini me??? (See what I did there?) He takes photos of the kids often, which ends up sparking an interest in photography that he’s happy to foster. Heck, maybe through that his daughter will become his mini me and he gets the best of both worlds!

I.N

♡ Playful dad! It’s not uncommon to come home and find him rolling around with the kids in a big ball of laughter!

♡ He hadn’t always thought about having a family, but when he met you and you guys began your journey, he wondered how he would have ever considered anything else.

♡ Because of this, he never had some dream number in his head and he’s happy to give you the floor on that question whether you’d like one or three or six!

♡ S-Class (see what I did there) nurse. They'll practically demand that he's the one to care for wounds and put the bandages on because he's so good at distracting from the sting of cleaning it and kissing where it hurts.

♡ They love his trot voice. Thus he hams it up plenty, bringing out his most exaggerated moves and probably bringing props too. Would not at all be adverse to them becoming his backup singers or dancers.

♡ Loves the idea of at least one mini you and one mini him- his words! Y’all definitely get a mini him though, OMG: your son wants to be JUST LIKE his dad, practically following him around all the time. He takes after his dad’s goofy smile and performances so soon you really do have two trot performances to watch! Jeongin is so honored and floored by this that he’s always saying he has to be the best man possible for his son as well as for you 🥹 he always encourages his son to say the sweetest words to you too- but don’t say it was from him, shh!!!

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romanoffsbish · 1 year

Text

I Can’t Lose You

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Request | Prompts

Warnings: Suspected/Mentions of Cheating

Smut: Daddy (N), Fingering/Oral (R), Thigh Riding (N)

A discontented groan fell from your lips as soon as you passed over the threshold of your house. Every muscle in your body currently ached after that lengthy plane ride home from your work trip to California. The golden state was beautiful, but you couldn't exactly enjoy the views while stuck in a temporary cubicle.

On the last day the company orchestrated a barbecue at the beach, but you couldn't find joy in the scenery without your girlfriend there. Instead you traipsed around in her hoodie, and sporadically picked fruit from the tables. The team played games, but you just mindlessly watched waves cascading against the shore.

——

While watching the sun set behind the horizon that night you saw a vision of Natasha laid out on a blanket in her cherry red bikini. She lazily smirked up at you when she caught you staring, and for the first time since you left her back in New York you genuinely smiled.

Your duffle naturally slipped from your body, you instinctively rolled your shoulders, and cringed at the crackling. When it finally hit the ground it was as if a metaphorical weight was lifted off your shoulders with the physical.

The only things on your mind currently were how you desperately needed a hot shower, and how being in your lovers strong arms could heal the rest of your jilted soul. Proof found as with every step you took you felt your mood lighten, catching whiffs of Natasha's cologne making you hopeful that she was home too.

Hope is often futile though, and that happiness you felt moments ago melded into despair as the closer you got to your room suggestive noises could be heard through the walls. You took a deep breath, heart hopeful that she was having some alone time, but as you pushed the door open you were met with a damning scene.

Natasha, the absolute love of your life, was straddling a mystery man, and her soft pants only gave way to her being guilty in your mind. Your entire world was crumbling fast, your labored breathing alerted your lover to your presence, and she turned to you in horror.

It was clear to her you couldn't see him, which was unfortunate because had you been able to you might've saved yourself a bit of heartbreak. Because just beyond Natasha's back that was turned to you laid an unconscious bearded man with a knife pressed against his jugular.

Natasha hadn't been the most forthcoming when the two of you'd started dating, and you were seemingly oblivious to her status as a former KGB assassin turned superhero. It's not that she never planned to tell you all about her sorted past, because of course she did, it was just for a short time she enjoyed being just Natasha Romanoff, cuddle extraordinaire, the big spoon to your little; your Tasha boo bear.

You completely melted her beyond recognition.

With you around it was as if the crippling weight on her shoulders merely vanished. Neither of you had found that in another before, so this cataclysmic moment would be ultra devastating if it was leading to ruin.

Everything with you was picture perfect, you were a kind, beautiful, down to earth young soul, and she loved the balance you brought to her otherwise chaotic life. Two years in and she'd still yet to tell you her public identity, and in this exact moment she was regretting that.

"Y/N! Wait!" Natasha was desperate, and quite frankly she hadn't the time for a fight right now, not with the Hydra man she's knocked unconscious still out cold in your shared bed. The same one that you unfortunately found her straddling. "It's not what it looks like detka."

"Yeah, I know," you scoffed bitterly while shoving whatever you could into your duffel bag, "It never fucking is with you cheaters."

"I'm not cheating," her tone was one of clear devastation, as if she had a right to that when you had just walked in on her in bed with another. "Please, just give me a chance to explain," she pleaded while following you around the room, she tried to grab you but you quickly shook her off with a violent body jerk.

Then you turned around with an accusing glare that terrified her, "This was never real, was it?" Natasha stumbled slightly at your words, you had every right in this moment to say such a thing but it hurt her nonetheless to see you believe that. "No! It was—it is real!"

You tried to maintain a steely composure, not wanting her to know just how hurt you were, but you could hardly keep it all in the longer you stood before her, you felt exposed, and her heart completely shattered when she heard your harsh, misconstrued conclusion come through a shaky voice. "I was just a warm body for those cold winter nights..."

"No, it wasn't like that, I would never do..." Natasha heard a grunt from your room, she looked back in annoyance before her gaze returned to you as the door abruptly opened, all of her windows were closing in on her here. "Just wait at Lena's, please detka, I'll explain."

You were about to negate her request as you turned to face her, but you could see a clear desperation in her eyes that didn't exactly fit the cheaters narrative. There was obvious guilt, but you could tell it somehow went deeper, so you offered her a nod before promptly leaving.

As soon as you disappeared the reformed assassins genuinely broken expression faded into one of purely terrifying stoicism, she warned her sister of your arrival, then she returned to your room with a devilish smirk. This man was going to wish he was never born for ever trying to come after you, she'd see to it.

—

Once you arrived to the blonde's it didn't shock you much to see her waiting on the stairs of her farmhouse with a bottle of vodka, and a smirk.

"I heard my sister is an idiot," Yelena took a massive swig just before tipping it in your direction. You threw it back and grimaced, body trembling slightly at the bitter taste, "Yeah, she's an even bigger one than you."

"Ha-ha, so funny Y/N Y/L/N," Yelena mocked, her finger joining her as she flipped you off.

"Point me to the guest room or I'll leave and you can face your sisters wrath instead."

Yelena rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, but did exactly as you said as she escorted you there. Then as soon as the door shut your steeled façade crumbled and you fell asleep in tears.

—

Natasha raced to her sister's house within an hour of when you'd left in a rush. She handled the Hydra agent with ease, then ensured you'd never be on their roster again by putting a bullet straight through their leaders forehead.

Nothing had ever meant more to the redhead than you, so to think using you as a bartering chip would result in anything less than their blood shed left the redhead truly confused. They had to know she was just the perfect amount of unhinged to ensure your safety.

So once Natasha got to her sisters land she burst through her doors appearing frantic. "Sestra, chill down." Yelena gestured down the hall with her gun before putting it down. "She's beauty resting, trust me, she really needs it."

Natasha frowned as she realized just how tired you probably are, you'd only just returned from a week long business trip when you stumbled into your house to find her in that horribly compromising position. With a quiet step she made her way to you, stopping by the side of the bed so she could just admire you sleeping in case this would be her final time doing so.

"I love you Y/N," Natasha whispered the words that were tattooed on her fragile heart, and for a blissful moment she pretended like it was all alright as you remained motionless in the bed, but then you were glaring up at her, and she was reminded of the situation.

"Why do people only say that to me when they've wronged me?" You blinked away the grogginess as you moved to sit up and face the woman, putting a heartbreaking bit of distance neither of you were familiar with between your bodies as you shuffled into the headboard, and she remained on the edge.

"Am I not deserving of the guiltless love?" You smiled with a bitter sense of longing, hands flailing about as if that somehow strengthened your sentiments. "Like the ones I see in fairytales, where they get swept away smiling," you frowned now as a tear suddenly cascaded down your cheek, "and not where I curl up to weep in my bed for another damn night."

A beat of tense silence fell over you two as the redhead tried not to cry. Saying I love you (aloud) to you for the first time was meant to be a joyous thing, but she somehow mussed it all up and was left to say it in the hopes that it would be enough to stop you from leaving her. This whole situation was all her fault, so to make it all about her heartache now would only be selfish, and so with all her might she kept her composure as she candidly admitted her truth, "I'm not exactly who I said I was Y/N."

You scoffed humorlessly, "That's for sure."

"No, please, I know you're mad," she began to trip over her words, and for some reason this truly concerned you, because for as long as you'd known her Natasha had always been an eloquent speaker, even in the most stressful of times she got the job done. "Just please, let me explain, it'll make sense if you only listen."

"Okay," you breathed, "Make it make sense."

Natasha nodded and swallowed thickly, then she set her shaking hands under her thighs to lessen their distracting movements, normally you'd hold them, but she couldn't ask you to, not yet at least. With much struggle she lifted her gaze up from her lap to look into your eyes. It momentarily took her breath away, seeing that you were already trying to forgive her, she felt undeserving of your never ending love.

She decided to start slow. "I'm an Avenger."

You chuckled humorlessly, "Yeah, I know that."

Natasha looked to you rather dumbfounded, "You know?" You nodded, "How could I not?"

"Th-then you know about my past?" Your nod was more hesitant this time, telling her you didn't know much beyond her current title, so, in a moment of bravery she divulged to you what she fears would be enough to send you running, "I have many vindictive enemies..."

Your lips pursed, you thought her words over for the briefest of seconds before the lightbulb went off and you chuckled, "Thank God! That guy was so ugly I worried I might be as well."

"Detka what?" Natasha shook her head, she was experiencing emotional whiplash here.

"You're saying that guy in our bed was some sort of rogue agent right?" Natasha nodded frantically, then took the initiative to scoot closer to you when your defensive stance fell.

"I-I need to tell you about my past Y/N, it's unfair to have left you in the dark for this long. If you got home before me, I might've lost you, and I can't imagine who I'd become if I did."

Natasha's anxiety halved as soon as you intertwined your hand with hers, "You would have been the person to avenge my death, and then with the help of family you'd move on."

"No!" Natasha's teary eyes held a sternness that her saddened voice currently couldn't, "I'd never move on, you're my everything detka."

"Natty, death comes for us all, you have to promise me you'll at least try." She shook her head, and sighed, "I barely let you into my heart detka, you were a once in a lifetime find, and when that horrid day comes my heart will die with you—there's no after you my love."

You smiled sadly, tightening your hold on her hand, "I feel the same way Nat, when I thought you were cheating my whole heart shattered."

"I'd never cheat Y/N," she fiercely reassured, "It serves no purpose when all I want is you."

"I know that now Natty, I jumped the gun instead of remaining rational. I should've realized it was an enemy of sorts."

"No," she shook her head, "You were tired, and in the end I should've told you far sooner about who I was; I'm not exactly a picturesque hero."

"Hey, don't say that." You frowned as you saw the guilt swimming behind her eyes, you knew it ran far deeper than today's instance, but you didn't like her feeling forced to come forward with her darkest secrets. Everyone had a past, and you couldn't begin to imagine hers. "You're an inspiration to millions baby, me included."

"The people who came after you today..."

"Hey, you don't have to do that Nat, I already refused to read the articles when they released them." You softly kissed the skin of her palm, "I knew what I signed up for with you, I always did, and I understood you weren't ready to share back then, and I still understand now that your past is yours alone to hold onto."

"But what if?"

You shocked her into silence when you kissed her, "We can't live in what if's, only the now."

Natasha smiled insecurely. "For today, okay." She kissed your cheek, then her face softened. "I still need to keep you safe," she reaffirmed, "I want to move you closer to Yelena or Clint."

For a moment you froze as she spoke her thoughts aloud, you wanted to fight her on this, to tell her you'd been fine thus far, but you also knew this was likely the safest bet. "Okay."

"Really?"

You snorted, "I'd rather be your pretty princess in a castle than your ugly unwanted girlfriend."

"Don't ever think such things again detka," she cradled your face in her hands, eyes shining with unshed tears, "Your beauty's abundant, truly you're the most spectacular person I've ever had the fortune of knowing." Natasha genuinely smiled at you while marveling at your aforementioned beauty, "There's nobody else I'd ever love like this."

You moved to straddle her lap in an instant. "Kiss me, please," your words were beyond breathless, eyes growing darker by the second. Natasha slowly leaned forward, leading you to believe she'd give you what you wanted but she brushed passed your lips to rasp into your ear, "Is that all you want baby, is for me to kiss you?" You shook your head, "N-no, I also want you to fuck me senseless, but a kiss sounded far more romantic."

Natasha chuckled, "You're adorable detka, but more importantly, your wish is my command."

The redhead disposed of both of your clothing in record time, articles of all sorts were now strewn all over the room without much care. Her lips fleetingly pressed to yours before they traveled all over your body, leaving your nerves to almost overcompensate and for your skin to feel as if it was permanently set on fire.

"I need you daddy, please..."

"Shh, daddy's going to take care of you detka," Natasha's fingers slid through your sensitive folds, she pinched your clit and marveled in the way your body convulsed due to the sensation.

"So responsive," she mused as you gasped at the intrusion of her finger, your hips began to buck out of time with her lackadaisical thrusts. "Stay still, or I'll have you warming daddy's cock all night long." Your mind was decently fuzzy, but you still weren't dumb enough to fall for such scams so you stilled.

"That's a good girl." Natasha beamed, her lips kissed yours again as her pace picked up, it was a heady sort of make out as you were no sooner reduced to a panting mess the longer her fingers worked your dripping cunt over.

Normally she’d tease you, keep you teetering on the edge for hours until you just couldn’t handle it anymore, but you were clearly tired, and she was eager to see you come undone, and beyond grateful for your forgiveness so she didn’t tease. With every few thrusts she curled her fingers, dragging her calloused tips down your velvet walls as she slowly pulled out, to then have you cry out as she slammed back in.

“Daddy please,” your back arched and you clung to her biceps with a bruising grip. Natasha leaned down to peck your lips, “It’s gonna be okay detka, you’re being so good.”

Her teeth nibbled at your jaw and you mewled, your pornographic noises spurred her on and she began to kiss down your body in quick succession, a bite left here and there to make your throat sore as your moans kept going.

“Let go for me kotenok,” Natasha rasped against the sensitive skin over your pelvis, a shiver ran down your spine as anticipation seeped into your every bone. “Make a mess of my face,” she commanded, soft lips wrapping around your clit as she sucked rather harshly.

“Oh fuck!” Your body jerked off the bed as the coil in your abdomen suddenly unraveled. Natasha swirled her tongue around your bundle as she unlatched her lips, then she slid down your slit on a mission before replacing her nimble fingers with her hot tongue.

Natasha continued to fuck you into another mind numbing high, her slicked fingers slid into your mouth to soothe you with your essence as she greedily drank it from the source, you were pleasantly addicting.

When your quivering legs came to an abrupt stop, and your mewling died off she pulled away with a harsh inhale and drooping eyes. If you were awake you’d probably cum again just at the sight of her, with her reddened cheeks from the voluntary oxygen deprivation and with your slick dripping from her chin onto the swell of her breasts. Natasha did, she rutted into your thigh a few times desperately while staring at your peaceful face, and in less than a minute she relieved the last of her tension.

The redhead made her way back up your body once she came down, she kissed your lips tenderly, "Everything I do is for you—my beloved." She smiled in pure adoration at your fucked out state as she pulled away from you, your swollen lips prettily parted, with your spent body slumped into the firm mattress.

Your soft snores slowly filled the space, and Natasha relished hearing them, she never thought such a fear could exist, but it did. Your lover couldn't help but to finally let hot tears run down her cheeks as everything sunk in.

You just looked so beautiful, you always did, but this time you were somehow more so.

You were still hers, and her heart couldn’t be more fulfilled knowing that. That you weren’t afraid of her demons, no, you were only here to love her in spite of them, and with you by her side the future for once looked bright for her.

Natasha slid out of the room in a robe she found in the bathroom, she planned to collect snacks for when you inevitably awaken hungry, and as she entered the unfamiliar kitchen her eyes fell to the note on the fridge, and she finally remembered exactly where she was.

"I WENT TO KATE'S—Burn the entire room!"

——

3,296 Words

🩵 Kaitlyn 😏

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luvhughes43 · 1 year

Text

bear goes on a trip | dad!quinn hughes x reader

luvhughes43 masterlist🌷

summary: quinn takes his daughters bear with him on a roadie and sends you pictures to update your daughter🫶

word count: 0.8k

Your daughter was gifted Bear when she was only two years old. He was gifted to the young girl by Ellen Hughes when she came to visit the small family for one of her sons' games. Bear was a small canucks teddy bear, and since he was first received the little girl had added a whole wardrobe to her collection. She has little jerseys to represent all of her uncles teams, and she had little sweaters too. Bear meant everything to your little girl, which is why you were a little surprised when the young girl, who was now four years old, came running into your room holding a small kids purse in one hand and Bear in the other.

“Daddy, will you take Bear with you?” the little girl asked as she placed her bear and the little purse on yours and Quinn’s bed.

“Of course I can baby,” came Quinn’s smooth reply as he placed another one of his shirts into his open suitcase. “But aren’t you going to miss Bear if he comes with me?” Quinn questioned, looking up from his suitcase to properly look at his little girl. She looked a little apprehensive about giving her most prized possession over and into her fathers watch, but she shook her head nonetheless.

“No, it's for you! keep you safe” your daughter responded, bounding into Quinn’s arms. He wrapped his arms around his daughter and swayed her slowly back and forth.

Quinn always had to leave for the airport when your girl was going to bed, so he’d always make sure to tuck her and Bear into bed. He’d tell her that Bear would keep her safe while he was away, and that anytime she was missing her daddy she could just squeeze Bear and she would know that he was thinking of her.

“Well, thank you for letting me take Bear with me” Quinn spoke up again, pulling out of the hug so he could look at his daughter.

Your daughter ran right over to your bed, now suddenly excited that Bear was going to go on a roadie with Quinn. “Look daddy! I packed Bear a suitcase just like you!” she smiled, grabbing the small purse and opening to show you and Quinn all of Bears clothes and accessories that he’d need on the week long road trip. You smiled at your daughter, “that's perfect baby, Bears gonna have a great time!”

That night Quinn left for his trip, and you were surprised to find that he had sent you a few pictures in the morning.

quinny💙: Can you show this to our girl when she wakes up?

You hearted one message

quinny💙: sent 3 images

quinny💙: Bear had a great time at the airport and he loved the plane ride! He wasn’t scared at all!

You couldn't help the smile that made its way onto your face upon seeing the photos Quinn sent. You loved him so much, and to see him be an amazing father… it made you feel a whole new type of love.

“Baby come look what daddy sent you!” you called out to your daughter who came running out of her room in excitement.

“What?!” she said, showing of her gummy smile as she couldnt contain her laughter.

You showed her the pictures, and she was beyond happy.

“Mommy!! Mommy look! Daddy took Bear on the plane!” she giggled, with the widest smile plastered onto her face.

“I know and look! Bear was with Daddy going through the airport too!” you exclaimed, swiping so she could look through the photos again.

Soon enough it was your daughter's bedtime, and Quinn was sending you more pictures.

quinny💙: sent 2 images

quinny💙: Bear is getting ready to go to bed! He loves and misses you sooo much!💙

You showed your daughter the photos as she was getting ready for bed. “Bears going to bed too!” she squealed while looking at the photos.

“Yes he's going to bed just like you!”

“And daddy tucked him in!” she screamed with joy, jumping up and down to show her happiness.

The next morning came more photos from Quinn.

quinny💙: sent 1 photo

quinny💙: Bears all ready for morning practice!💙

Throughout the week that Quinn was gone, he kept sending more photos and little updates with Bear. Every time your daughter saw an update she would get so excited, demanding to call her dad to talk to him.

When Quinn finally got back home from his roadie, he gave your daughter the biggest hug. She dragged him into her room and she cuddled bear while Quinn told her all of the adventures him and bear went on together. You left them to it, and when you returned an hour later the two of them were fast asleep in a heap of blankets and pillows on the floor. Your heart swelled, and you couldn’t believe just how much you loved these two.

#dad quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #nhl fic

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malebodyexhibit · 1 year

Text

Getting in the Action (a Next Door Boy tale)

'Never meet your heroes' is how that saying goes, but for me it should be, 'never become your hero.'

I first saw my hero on the big screen when I was in fourth grade. He was the coolest thing ever! There was a movie where he was a pilot and pulled off cool stunts in planes. My dad and I idolized him. He was the one who dragged me to the movie. It became his way to get me to do things, like "Tom always eats his vegetables" or "I doubt Tom failed his Math class." And, being the idiot I was, I obeyed.

The movie star’s influence steered my life to places I never thought I'd go. I got into weight lifting, because in all his movies, he always had that shirtless scene to hammer in the point that he was a man's man. That is what men should be. I bought a fitness magazine after I watched that movie where he has sex with his girlfriend and he strutted around his apartment naked. I wanted to be like that (confident in my own skin), so I studied the magazine and used my father's dumbbells. When I reached high school, I had washboard abs and biceps the size of grapefruits.

And sure, I was built like a linebacker, but I didn't enjoy sports. Of course I valued athleticism, but I also wanted to be an actor. I tried out for roles in Drama class and mostly got them for my good looks and body, but I really put in effort. It wasn't until we started rehearsing for Shakespeare's "The Tempest" that I started to appreciate the sounds and art of classical theatre. So in English I found a new joy. My dreams shifted from action movie star to a classical theatre. I really wanted to impress my hero that I was making something of myself for him.

Then the Next Door Boy craze happened. I'm sure you already know what happened. The debauchery and scandals. Yet, when it calmed, the benevolent acts stood out. People who lost out on life got a second chance. And then Tom announced something truly amazing:

"Hello, everyone. So many of you are my fans and have been since I was on the big screens almost half a century ago. No doubt I've gotten old. Seeing my gray hair is always a shock. But many of you suggested that I continue my legacy and through the efforts of Next Door Boy, I can. I won't just accept anyone. I want to only accept the biggest fan of mine. I want to take you with me to the stars in show business. So, fill out the application, send in those photos, and let's make something together."

The news was shocking. I could be him. He could be in me. We could share a future together. So of course I applied. I had my dad shoot the photos of me. He was over the moon. Anything for our hero.

And I was chosen. I couldn't breathe when I heard the news. The rest blurred in a rush of euphoria. I was seated in a chair at Next Door Boy as the agent went over the details. I was to be Tom’s body and I would still exist, but I wouldn't have control over anything; I would ride backseat in my mind. Do you accept?

"Yes," I said. Those were my last words spoken by my mouth by me.

---

"Tell me how much you like it when I do this," Tom whispered as he pulled my shirt over his nipple. He ran his hand over what used to be my stomach.

"Stop, please," I whimpered. I could only communicate in our shared mind. It had been a couple months since the procedure and since then, Tom has been using my body for his sexual gratification. I know he isn't even gay. He just likes tormenting me.

"I don't think so," he taunted. He stuck a finger in his mouth and gave a soft moan. As he pulled it out, a trail of spittle followed. He reached around our back and I felt the push against our tight hole. In a rush, he plunged it in. A sudden ache hit us and he moaned while I screamed, "stop!" He drove it in and out. He buckled over the restroom counter and continued to go knuckles deep. Finally, he pulled out the digit and wiped it on my six pack. "Well, that's enough for now. I don't want to make you too loose. I want this body to last a few years."

He jumped in the shower then got dressed. Around my parents he was a model son. Even though they know he wasn't me, but some middle aged action star, they still treated him like me.

"There's my boy!" My dad said and he stood to hug my body. My body hugged him back and my father beamed at us. He took my face in his hands and said, "have fun out there."

"Don't worry, dad. I will!" Tom said from my mouth. He was beaming his innocent smile. "Hey, mom. I have to fly to a studio today. We're starting on the set of a new movie. Could you pack me lunch?"

"Of course, dear. That sounds fun!" My mother smiled and went to prepare something in the kitchen.

"So how is it being the action hero?" Dad asked. I couldn't tell who he was asking. It seemed my parents believed I was still in control or that it was a mix of both. But no. It was always Tom.

I remember waking up from the procedure and seeing myself, unable to move or speak. I watched as he ran my hands over my arms and chest. I watched him flex in my body.

I felt how aroused he was getting from checking out my body. "God damn, boy," he said, "you're a snack." If it wasn't for health regulations, I'm sure he'd whip out our cock then and jerk off. But instead, he waited for the public restroom in the hallway. Since then, he tortures me by treating my body like a dildo or a fleshlight. It wasn't useful unless it was pounding or being pounded at both ends.

"It's pretty good. Let me tell you about the movie I'm shooting." Tom_ said, "It's about a college student, me, who has to fight off bank robbers and saves the day. It takes place in Vegas."

"That sounds cool," my dad said. "Remember, don't drink. You might be an action star, but you're still my son."

The man in my body smiled. "Of course."

We left the house and walked toward a limo waiting for us at the curb.

"It was a lie," he said now that we were alone.

"What?" I asked.

"There is a movie, but it's not one where the hero wins. He tries fighting the robbers and finds himself facedown in his own piss. He's then stripped and finds out how much loves a dicking and giving head."

"It's a porno?!" I screamed incredulously. "You can't make me do that! That's disgusting and I'm not gay!"

"It doesn't matter if you're gay. I already set up something with a studio. They're wanting a few hundred movies of us, well me in you. They like your body, and I do too, especially when it's a cheap slut for cock." He smiled, flashing the driver a toothy grin. His signature boyish charm displayed on my face.

"You're supposed to make me famous," I cried. The promise of his echoing in my head.

"And I will make you famous. There will be no gay man alive who wouldn't have seen take a couple dicks. I will make you a household name in the porn industry. I will wear out your hole and it so you can't pretend you're a straight virgin."

"Please, stop," I begged, uselessly. I watched as he pulled a beer out from a cooler. He twisted off the cap and chugged the bottle. Since he was in my body, he drank incessantly and ate passionately. He rarely maintained my exercise and I feared my fit body would slip away.

"Why should I? What's the point of working out when I can just get another teen like you desperate for fame? I'll know it's time to leave your body when I can't see my toes and I can't get a good fuck. You can have your body back when that happens." He said as he opened a second bottle of beer. He was already unbuckling his belt to relieve himself of the strain. I cried in the unfeeling void of his mind.

#possession #male mental change #straight to gay #male body exhibit #a next door boy tale #next door boy #male takeover #old to young #body theft

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luvly-writer · 4 months

Text

XOXO

Ch. 14 A broken heart is fixed by another

-•-

Author’s note: I am so so sorry for the delay, i really took my vacations to relax and enjoy the time i had with my family and friends. I finally got to sit down and make this chapter. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Fighting and yelling

Taglist: @w31rdg1rl @mxtokko @loonymoonystuff @granstrangerphanthom @1lellykins @cangosleepnow @dreamspectrum @its-maemain @tamimemo @nightw-izhu @trasshy-artist @gabriiiiiiii

masterlist:

-•-

To admit that my father had shaken me up a little would tear apart a bit of my ego. I mean, all my life I have been going head to head with the man yet not once had I gone as far as I had now. I had sent a text to Tim, telling him that I would be spending Christmas Eve having dinner with my family to which he responded worriedly that if anything went wrong, the doors to the Wayne manor were always open. I finish getting ready for the dinner and call Donnie. Oh Donnie, he has been my driver ever since I was a child and constantly took me under his wing. I grab the bag that holds the presents I had bought the day I met Tim and take out Donnie’s. It was my small tradition with my family’s staff, every year on Christmas Eve, I would buy them a present as gratitude for the year of service. I had begun it when I was 13 and hadn’t stopped ever since. I see him waiting for me once I gather everything I need and open the door. He steps out of the car and opens the door for me showing me a small bouquet of my favorite flowers waiting for me next to where I usually sit.

“Oh Donnie, you are a sweetheart! Thank you so much!” I say and hug him once I stash all of my families presents in the trunk. I give him his present and smile as he gasps of joy. Long time ago, Donnie had told him that he had exchanged his silver harmonica for a watch for his wife. Unbeknownst to him, his wife had done the same thing and exchanged her locket for a case for his harmonica. In front of him sat a beautiful silver harmonica and a gorgeous golden locket, I had been able to track their missing belongings and bought and polished them for them. I feel Donnie shake as he brings me in for a hug and I don’t mention the tears that soak my coat. “Happy Christmas, Donnie, to you and Linda” I hug him tighter and smile. “happy Christmas, miss Vanderbilt!” He says smiling and we both get in the car. The ride to Vanderbilt mansion was pleasant at best. He had decided to give an update on how my family have been. Aurora and my mother had moved to the West wing ever since the debutants ball. My sister was enraged about the selling of my painting and was doing almost every she could to find a way to buy it back. My mother was doing her best to help her in that. Charlisse and my father remained in the east wing. Charisse what stayed trying to keep father company but it was no use, he has been stuck in his study the entire time and only seemed to go out for supper. Not only that, my grandmother’s plane had been delayed due to the weather conditions and she was not going to be present until who knows when. That bit of news is what dulled me the most I think. It was no secret I was my grandmother’s favorite and it would have been a relief to have someone my father can’t control.

Finally, we arrive. Donnie opens my door and helps me carry my presents inside. There, Dorothy, my maid, takes them and goes to place them under the tree. “wait! Thea!” I say and she stops looking at me, waiting for my response. I take the bags and pull out three gifts. I put two in my purse and give the las one to her, “Happy Christmas, Thya!” I say with a big smile. She gives me a hearty laugh and wishes me a happy Christmas. She also tells me that I will find her present for me in my room. I smile and go on a search for my favorite butler. I find him ordering the kitchen staff around for the dinner and give him his present whilst wishing him a Happy Christmas. I give him a hug and run upstairs to drop my coat. In my bed, two beautiful presents are laid. I place the flowers in my nightstand and open them. Dorothy gave a three books, one of Monet, one of Van Gogh and another on Da Vinci; and Bartie gave me a gorgeous knitted sweater with a kite saying his wife made it for me. I hug all of my presents and decide to finally show up at the dining room, knowing my father will be impatient by now.

Before I enter the dinner, I straighten my back and wipe my dress making sure everything is perfect. Finally, Bartie opens the door and announces my arrival. Aurora comes straight away towards my and hugs me tightly. She whispers in my ear, “I miss you baby sis..and no matter what happens today, I am on your side!” She pulls away and smiles at me. Mom walks towards me next almost cautiously, last time we had spoken I had not been that welcoming towards her. I open my arms and she releases a sigh and envelopes me in her arms. “Hi, my little pearl, Merry Christmas” she says as she squeezes me tightly. “Mom! You are leaving me without air” I laugh out causing Aurora and my mother to laugh. Next is Charlisse. She squeezes me in a big hug and tries to ruffle my hair. I deflect it with a laugh and pat it down. Finally I meet my father’s gaze.

“Father”

“Y/n”

We stay staring at each other until, Mark, Aurora’s husband coughs and I look at him. He gives me a big hug and we laugh. Charlisse’s husband, Antoine, raises a glass at me and gives me a wink. I roll my eyes at him and discreetly give him the middle finger. He laughs, choking on his drink and nods in approval. They both have always been like my older brothers. Finally, we begin and sit down to eat. Like always, Dorothy, Bartie, and Donnie, with some of the other staff, sit down to eat with us in order to celebrate the festivities. We begin mindless chatter around the table as we eat. Even though it’s still a little tense between my father and I, we engage in some conversation. We finish dinner and change into the living room.

Everything was going perfect, until it wasn’t.

I was telling Charlisse about the ski trips with Tim when my father lets out a displeased grunt. We ignore him for the most part until he interrupts. “Where is Timothy by the way? Is he not supposed to be your boyfriend?” I turn to him and narrow my eyes. “Whatever you are implying father, it is far from that. You specifically told me tonight was about family and that I couldn’t bring him” I defend and he glares at me, “I am sure that would have not stopped a real gentleman, for example, Francis would have come and joined us” he said waiting for my reaction. I catch Charlisse scrunch up her nose in distaste. During the last few weeks, my sisters and I had a conference call where they asked about Mr. Morris. Aparantly my sisters had no knowledge of how much of a creepy man he was. Charlisse thought my father was just going to the extremes in order to push me towards the family business and was even entertained by me defying my father’s authority, but once she had heard everything, she was no longer amused. “Father, I don’t believe that is exactly fair for Y/n” Charlisse began but was interrupted by my father screaming, “I say what is fair in this household and Y/n has done nothing to honor our family name! She has only raked it through the mud parading with that boy toy of hers and engaging in activity unfit for a Vanderbilt!”

“I hardly think it’s something to shame her father, she was just having a little fun” tried Charlisse again and Aurora continued with “She’s young and in love, that’s all”

Our father was positively fuming. “You see what you have caused, Y/n. Your little act of rebellion has caused your sisters to step out of line and it might cause them their future titles. We wouldn’t want that, would we?” He said darkly looking at both of my sisters who shrunk under his gaze and gave me an apologetic smile.

“Don’t be unfair on the girl, William.” My mother tried to intervene when I interrupted her,

“Oh so I am a little rebel now! Is that what you are calling it?!?! Is that what you call anyone that doesn’t bend to your every will just because heaven forbid William Vanderbilt doesn’t get what he wants!?” I yell back and my father’s fury rises once again

“Enough! It’s Christmas Eve, for heaven’s sake! We are spending time as a family and these matters should be left for later!” My mother tried once again but it wasn’t enough.

“You are young, Y/n, there are many things that you don’t understand-“

“And you are old father, there are many things you have forgotten!” I responded looking at him dead in the eyes

“What is that supposed to mean?” He got closer to me, my mother was doing her best to push him back and Antoine and Mark stood up, ready for anything that was to come.

“You are selfish, arrogant, and cruel. You believe that everything should be done according to your plans yet you forget that we are our own people! We should live how we like and love who we want and be who we choose to be. You push your precious hotel agenda so far down our throats that you suffocate us! The only thing you do is push our family apart instead of bringing it together. I remember you used to tell us how much you hated your dad for forcing you to take on the company yet yOU DO THE SAME DAMN THING TO US!” I threw in his face and then snapped my hand to my mouth. My sisters gasped and my mother looked between my father and me. Everyone stood still for a moment. That wasn’t a subject we never brought up.

“Leave.” Was all my father said and it was the restraint in his body that made me run. I grabbed my purse, took a random coat from the closet and ran out of the manor. I could hear people calling out my name and yelling at my father but I paid no mind to it, I just ran. It was freezing, snow had begun falling and I was just in my short dress and heals. I knew Wayne manor was close so I just ran and ran until I got to its shiny golden gates. There I pressed the buzzer as many times as I could until I heard a posh British accent answer, “Yes?”

“H-h-hi A-a-Alfred, is T-t-Tim the-ere?” I asked, shivering.

“Goodness miss, YN, what are you doing in the snow! Master Tim! There’s an urgent matter you need to attend to, come quick!” Alfred said rapidly recognizing my voice and opened the gate. I began the long walk it takes to get to the manor and in the distance I see a body open the door. It starts to run towards me as I get closer and closer. Finally, it clears up and I recognize that shadow to be Tim.

“Fuck, angel what are you doing here at this hour and under so much snow, come on let’s get you inside” he says as he drapes another coat on me and picked me up. “I didn’t know where else to go…” I said softly and he squeezes me harder. I don’t know if it was because how much I am shaking or because of what I said.

Quickly I am taken in and brought to Tim’s room. He places me in the toilet and begins heating a bath for me.

“There you go, I’ll go get you a few things to change into later, see if Steph, Babs or Cass has something that can fit you” he says and is about to leave when i realize I don’t want to be alone right now, “Tim…”

“Yes?” He says turning back to me and looks at me, worry clouding his eyes.

“Can you stay with me?” I ask and he stiffened, suddenly I remember our situation and what I am asking of him, “never mind, sorry if I-“

“Let me get everything that you might need and I’ll be right back, okay? I’ll come back” he says softly.

The bath fills up and stops suddenly, I begin to shed the layers of coats I have until I am left only in my soaking dress. I am about to take it off when I realize the zipper is frozen and it is getting difficult for me to take it off. I struggle for a few seconds until Tim arrives again.

“I got you some pants and socks from Babs and a shirt and clean underwear from Steph. I also have many sweaters you can borrow. They are in the bed and here are some shampoos, conditioners, bath bombs, soaps and essential oils. Let me place some on the tub, Alfred said they can help you not get sick and help your body relax and recover as well. Why aren’t you our of your dress?” He rambles as he pours the liquids until he sees my struggling figure.

“It’s stuck and ruined” I say still, struggling.

“Let me help you, angel” he says softly. I turn around and feel his warm fingers on my shoulders. He ties my hair up and behind to tug the zipper down as careful as he can. Once it’s open, he turns around and lets me take the rest of my clothes off. I sink in the tub and almost moan out of relief. The warmth starting to seep into my bones.

“You can turn around, Timmy” I say laughing softly at his stiff and awkward posture, “the bubbles cover me quite well”

He turns around slowly and sits on top of the toilet. I can see his face red with embarrassment and muffle a giggle with my hand. He looks positively adorable. His eyes take in my face with soft adoration.

“What happened, angel?” He asks softly. I let out a sigh and sink completely into the bath. Thankfully the tub is big enough to still cover me completely. When I come back up, I see Tim rolling his sleeve and pouring shampoo in his hands. He pulls a stool to get sit closer to me in the bathroom and softly whispers “come here”

I get closer, changing positions and giving him my back. As he begins to wash my hair with utter care and devotion I begin to tell him everything that happened. He makes sure to listen to every single one of my woes and hums in response as he works the tangles out of my hair and massages my scalp. He rinses and gets the conditioner and I continue my rant. Somewhere along the line, I begin to cry, exhausted by both the emotions of the day and the horrible walk here. He rinses again and begins to pour soap into his hands. He whispers softly, “may I?” And I nod as he begins to massage my neck and shoulders. I finish my account and just numbly state at the wall.

“Well, you are safe now, safe and warm. We have an amazing feast going on, Alfred’s treat if you are hungry. They just started the movie marathon and soon we will be playing a bunch of board games, so there’s that. Alfred said you are lucky to have gotten here so fast cause the storm got stronger and we are most probably snowed in, which you don’t have to worry about because we have a lot of guest bedrooms. You are alright okay” he speaks rinsing the soap out of his hand, “and I’ll stay here as long as you need me here.” He gives me a soft kiss on the head.

We stayed there for a while until I decided to get out finally feeling warm enough and relaxed. He hands me a towel and leads me to his room where he turns around and let’s me chance into everything. I ask him for a sweater and he searches for one and and tells me to guard it because it is his favorite as he winks. That gets a laugh out of me. Finally we head downstairs where Steph bolts and gives me a hug, “girl! Next time call Tim! Don’t walk around in the snow alone!!” She says making me smile sheepishly. Everyone speaks in agreement. The Wayne’s hold a very special place in my heart and their worry for me just secures that place even more.

“So, Tim said movies and game night, Jason, Damian, ready to get your asses beat by me again?” I ask smiling and Jason looks insulted whilst Damian scoffs half heartedly and responds, “you wish!” As the rest holler.

We spend the rest of the night watching Christmas movies and playing board games and I laugh so hard the evening I almost forget the events prior to this evening. Once we all retire, Tim starts walking me to one of the guest rooms. I hesitate before going in…I really don’t want to spend the night alone knowing that I have probably been casted as an outsider by my father and shunned from the family. It must have been visible in my face because Tim puts his hand out and says, “you can spend the night in my room, I don’t mind”

I take his hand and he leads me back to his room where an extra toothbrush is set. We wash our teeth and both get under the covers, each on one side of the bed. I try to get some sleep but the shudder from the cold returns. I try to contain it as much as possible so that I don’t wake Tim. Suddenly I feel a hand get a hold of my waist and pull me towards a body.

“You’re freezing, come here” he says and i whisper a small thanks.

“It’s a surprise you are going to bed, Timmy” I say and he must have understood the implications of my statement cause he answers, “Crime usually lowers these days because of the holidays and the excessive cold so we don’t usually patrol around this time as much. Bruce might go out and sometimes one of us if we want but it is rarely the case so this is the one time a year we get to lay back and relax.” I feel him murmur into the crook of my neck. He wraps his arms around me and cuddles closer to me, “plus, I always sleep better when you are around so why would I waste a chance like that” he says and I feel my face warm up. I take one of his hands and bring it to my lips giving it a soft kiss and say, “thank you for everything, Timmy.” In return, he squeezes me harder and says, “Merry Christmas, angel”.

And we both fall asleep into a blissful slumber.

-•-

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hogans-heroes · 15 days

Note

Hi 😊 I was wondering if you had any headcanons about modern AU Buck and Bucky as pilots. What if they met at an air show? 😉 How would that go? What are they like?

Fam I love this concept so much but I STRUGGLED with this one! Mainly because I want to make Bucky a stunt pilot SOOO bad because he has exactly the personality to be doing insane stunts in something like an Extra 300 but those cockpits are TINY and really tall people don’t do well with aerobatics/G-forces without a g-suit so that’s not gonna work 😭

But that’s ok because I like my second idea even better: Bucky is on the Air Force F-35 Demo team and Gale is a ferry pilot who owns a Waco he flies for fun to shows around the country:

This is soooo perfect for them individually! F-35 pilots are the cream of the crop, absolute jet-jockeys and I’m really leaning into Top Gun AU territory which I loooove. Bucky is a larger than life personality with a callsign like Rambo or something and is known for being an excellent pilot and leader. He loves doing the craziest and hardest stunts for crowds at air shows all over the country and LIVES for the excitement and drama.

Gale enjoys the much more relaxed and nostalgic flying. The job ferry pilot is moving aircraft around the country for people who have bought or sold or just planes that need to be moved for whatever reason. It’s interesting and fun and Gale loves seeing the country. But his pride and joy is the Waco biplane he owns that is in pristine condition. He loves the open cockpit and feeling the wind and seeing the beautiful views at a slow pace. He flies it to air shows around the country and camps in the grass with his plane along with others doing the same thing.

At one of these shows he runs into Bucky and some after-show event, maybe one of his employers gets him invited. The F-35 pilots are there and of course no one can miss Bucky’s presence. When they are introduced they hit it off and get to talking, and of course Gale is smitten but tries to hide it. Isn’t everyone smitten with these hot-shots? Why would Bucky be interested? But when he shows Bucky photos of his Waco Bucky is OBSESSED and begs to see it. It’s already dark so it’s easy to sneak out of the event tent and out to Gale’s plane. Bucky listens as Gale talks about his baby and is slowly melting in the face of his sweetness. They end up talking into the night and sitting on the grass under the wing to watch the night airshow and fireworks. (They might kiss, just maybe).

So what of it if Gale just so happens to show up at the events where Bucky is scheduled to perform? And so what if Bucky disappears to Wyoming on his time off? Pure coincidence. The first time Bucky gets a ride in the Waco he thought his heart would burst. It’s so beautiful and fun and Gale’s happy voice in his headset makes him want this forever.

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trickphotography2 · 11 months

Text

D-Day by TrickPhotography | Chapter 1

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female!reader

Word count: 3k

Synopsis: After finding out his girlfriend is pregnant, Jake is ready to move in and get married. The last thing he expected was to be hit with a six-month deployment at sea and missing the birth of his first child.

Master List | Ao3

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Chapter 1

The heat of the flight line radiated up through your flats as you raised your hand to shield your eyes, tracking the contrails of the incoming jets - the newest batch of F-35 Lightnings. The DoD had recently increased the number of planes they had ordered from your company, and as one of the contract writers based on the West Coast, you had the pleasure of being on the flight line when they were delivered. After inspecting the merchandise, the Navy pilots jumped into the cockpits to take their new jets for a joy ride. You smiled, watching one tip the wings before climbing steeply. To this day, feeling the roar of an engine in your chest and seeing the beauty of the afterburner made you think of your dad. Snapping a quick picture to send him later, you turned to join your coworkers in the shady hangar.

The small crowd had grown, circling and ducking under the planes to get a closer look. When you lifted your phone again to take a picture of the tail code, you heard someone behind you. “Want me to get one with you in it?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you said before turning to face him. His green eyes snapped up to your face - he’d clearly been checking you out. Forcing yourself to take a deep breath, you plastered on your customer service expression. “Are you one of the Lightning crew?”

“No, just coming to check out the new toys. I fly a Super Hornet.”

“Nice,” you replied, eyes drifting down to read his name badge - Seresin. When you met his gaze again, he smirked, crossing his arms over his chest and drawing attention to his biceps - you’d seen that move used too many times - and nodded to the plane.

“You one of the engineers?”

“No,” you replied, feeling a slight twinge of regret. “Just a paper pusher.”

“That right?”

“Yup.”

“Any idea what the top speed for one of those is?” he asked, tipping his chin towards the F-35.

“A little less than the Super Hornet - Mach 1.6 with a full weapons load. Better stealth capabilities, though.”

“More expensive, from what I’ve heard.”

“Well, upgrading old tech comes with a price tag. And they’ll be less expensive to maintain than the F-18.”

“The Super Hornet isn’t old tech,” he replied, the corner of his mouth tipping down.

“Of course not. For a fourth-gen fighter, it’s holding up well, but times are changing and so is air warfare. For example, the F-18 would have difficulty doing an ISR mission whereas our F-35 would be well up to mission parameters.”

“If they’re sending in the F-18, the time for intel and surveillance is over and it’s time to get down to business.”

“Of course…for air-to-air combat. Or the F-35 can continue the mission with its wide weapons array and ability to do air-to-air and air-to-ground combat.”

“Not certified for a nuke, though.”

“Not yet, but we’re working on that certification,” you shot back. “The ability to take off and land vertically is a nice trade-off, though. How long of a runway does the F-18 need again?”

“Less than a thousand on a carrier.” Behind you, you heard someone call ‘Hangman!’ and Seresin lifted his head in acknowledgment.

“Exactly.”

“You sure you’re not an engineer?”

“Just a good saleswoman. Give it a few years, and you’ll also be in one of our jets. You’ll have to tell me how it compares to the Super Hornet.” Glancing at his collar and clocking the double bars, you smiled and tilted your head. “It was lovely chatting with you, Lieutenant Seresin. I’ll let you get to your friends now.” With that, you turned and walked to join your colleagues.

“Nice chatting with you, Ma’am,” he called out. You felt his eyes on your back but, as a woman in the male-dominated defense contracting industry, it wasn’t uncommon. This was exactly why you dressed in slacks and loose blouses more often than not - no need to draw more attention than necessary. That hadn’t stopped you from updating your resume more than once after a rough day at work, ignoring one too many comments from old men who thought you were a secretary instead of someone in charge of multimillion-dollar negotiations. At least the pilot had called you an engineer.

“Happy hour?” your boss asked, throwing an unwelcome arm over your shoulder and pulling you into his side. You pasted on an uncomfortable smile and nodded, wanting nothing more than to go home and open a bottle of wine on your own.

Growing up, you’d never imagined being a defense contractor. While other little girls dreamed of being a teacher or president, you dreamed of being in the Air Force. Your dad had been a jet engine mechanic for the Air Force and loved nothing more than bringing you to the test cells to see what the squadron was working on. When your family moved to Japan, he would sit on the back patio overlooking the flight line at sunset, pointing out each plane landing to you. He quizzed you on the tail codes until you could identify where most planes were based. Back stateside, you went to every airshow nearby, watching the beauty of physics and engineering lifting the plane from the ground, the acrobatic twists of the jets, and the majestic thrumming of the C-130’s turboprops. Once you got your license, there was no greater thrill than driving your dad’s Mustang with the top down on the base and seeing the jets descending on the flight line next to you.

For a long time, everyone in your family thought you would follow in his footsteps. You’d taken the ASVAB and SAT’s to keep your options open. When you qualified to go into mechanics, recruiters from every branch called and pressed you to come to sign papers to enlist. You kept pushing them off, wanting to keep your options open as long as possible as you waited for the responses from your college applications. And besides, it was blue or bust - there was no way you would go into any branch other than the Air Force. In the meantime, Dad worked with you to prepare for basic training. Running, push-ups, and pull-ups became your after-school workout. He took you on base to talk to some of the women in his squadron. They were frank with you about the benefits and downsides of the military - the pay was okay and the travel was great, but you had to put up with a lot of shit. Being away from family was hard, and there was no control over where you moved. Too many of them had stories about sexual harassment. But if you were going to join a branch, the Air Force was the way to go.

After that talk, you went to lunch with your dad. He wanted you to know what you would be getting into if you joined. While he loved his time in the service and what it had given your family, it would be different for you. You would face things he couldn’t imagine being a woman in the military. He assured you that he didn’t want you to decide based on his feelings but only what you wanted.

You enrolled in college two hours from home that fall and decided to pursue engineering. If you weren’t in the Air Force, you could at least be near planes. Sure, the math was hard, but it wasn’t impossible. There were lots of nights spent huddled in the library, working through your physics and thermodynamics homework instead of hitting up the bars with your roommates. The hardest part of school was dealing with your classmates. Most of the time, you were the only woman in the class. Sexist jokes came from classmates and professors.

“If you’re just trying to get an MRS degree, I’d be happy to make that sacrifice for you,” one guy said, winking over the top of his laptop.

You made sure to study extra hard for the next test and smirked in his direction when you set the exam curve.

College wasn’t all work, though. You found time to date, trying to avoid STEM boys in favor of social sciences and humanities (finance and business guys were too arrogent). You lost your virginity after a night at the club where your boyfriend used his fake ID to get banded, chasing shots with horrible gin and tonic. It was okay - the touch was nice but you hadn’t gotten off. When recapping with your friends the next morning, they assured you that sex got better. It didn’t with that particular guy and you broke it off before the end of the semester.

After twenty-six years in the military, your dad announced his retirement. You traveled home for the ceremony, crying with your mom when he thanked you both for going on the adventure of a lifetime with him.

Less than a year later, he was diagnosed with colon cancer.

Angry that something like this could happen to him, you dove into researching what could have caused it. And, buried in a journal online, you found a study linking jet fuel to colon cancer.

Your parents were confused when you changed your major. Your advisor tried to talk you out of it - your grades were decent, and you were halfway through the program. Desperate to graduate on time and avoid STEM, you switch to English and turned your analytical brain to rhetoric and editing.

Dad breezed through chemo, walking miles around the hospital during his sessions. You picked up an extra shift at the grocery store when he asked you to see an airshow with him. When you came home for Thanksgiving, he tossed you the keys to the Mustang and said it was time for a cruise on the beach. You put the top down while your dad collected the list of things to pick up from the base commissary on the way home.

The breeze off the Gulf was cold but you didn’t care - Dad cranked the heater and music, grinning at you as you easily navigated the slower traffic. When you first got your license, he’d nicknamed you his fighter pilot with how you forced your way into spots between vehicles. You were never sure if it was a compliment or not. But today… today he was happy, and you could ignore the chemo port on his chest that tented his shirt and try to forget why he was bald.

You switched in a parking lot, and he drove you onto the base. But rather than go straight to the commissary, he followed the road to his old squad headquarters. When you asked what you were doing there, he shrugged while putting the top up, said he needed to drop something off and motioned for you to come inside. You refused. But when he was inside for over half an hour, and the car started to swelter, you got out and followed him. When you tentatively knocked on the door he’d gone through, it swung open and an airman smiled before handing you a pair of ear protectors and motioning you in.

Dad stood at the observation deck, watching the engine cycle through the start-up and cool down, the glow of the afterburn reflecting in his eyes. You could smell the jet fuel and felt bile rise in your throat. When the engine stopped screaming, you grabbed your dad’s hand and asked to leave. After waving goodbye to his friends, he led you outside. Rather than going to the car, however, he pulled you into the hanger. Grinning, he walked towards the F-35 and raised his hand to run it along the wing.

“I miss this,” he said, turning back to smile at you. “Where’s this one from?”

“Cannon, New Mexico,” you replied after glancing at the tail code, the fuel smell choking you. “Can we get out of here?”

“Come on, kiddo, let your old man have a moment to relive his glory days.”

“Your glory days are what’s trying to kill you,” you snapped without thinking. Dad’s arm dropped, and he turned to face you, raising an eyebrow. His calm expression was so frustrating that you couldn’t hold it in any longer - it didn’t matter that two men were sitting on top of the plane next to you. “This is what’s trying to kill you, Dad! The fucking jet fuel you breathed in every day had carcinogens, and you want to stay here longer to breathe more of it in?”

A few tears escaped your tight control as you turned on your heel and stormed out of the hanger. Your nails dug into your palms as you collapsed back into the car passenger seat. It was a few minutes later that he joined you. Rather than turning the ignition, he stared out the windshield. “Is this why you dropped out of engineering?” You stayed silent. “Honey, talk to me. Your mom and I are worried.” Slowly, you nodded, feeling his eyes on you. When he reached for your hand, you let him take it. “Look at me, please. I need you to hear me when I say this to you, young lady.”

“What?”

“We’re never gonna know what caused this cancer, okay? Yeah, it might have been the fuel or a million other things. But you don’t get to give up your dream because of this, alright? You don’t get to give up something you love because of something that happened to me.”

“It’s not just happening to you, Dad,” you whispered.

“I know, sweetheart. But I’m okay, and I want you to be, too. And if that means you never get near another plane again, I’ll be sad to lose my co-pilot, but I’ll support you. I won’t ask you to do anything you don’t want to, but don’t lose your passion because of me.”

True to his word, Dad hadn’t asked you to attend any airshows with him but would mention them in passing when you called to check-in. When he got his clean bill of health, they threw a party and some of his airmen dropped by the house to celebrate, bringing him a model of the F-15s he’d worked on as a gift. He returned to work as a defense contractor and was back on the flight line doing quality assurance checks after repairs were finished. And he stayed in remission. With each clean bill of health his oncologist gave him, the more you found yourself looking at his memorabilia around the house - pictures of the planes he’d worked on, model airplanes, and squadron plaques. It was too late to return to engineering, but you found yourself wandering to the university career center to see their suggestions to combine your love of aircraft with writing. They helped you draft your resume, and when you graduated with your degree in english with a minor in engineering, you’d secured a job with one of the largest defense contracting companies in the US in their contract writing division.

“To another successful delivery!” Dutifully, you and your coworkers raised your glasses to toast the latest success. While they tossed back their drinks to make the most of the happy hour special, you nursed your beer while picking at the pretzel bites you’d ordered. They’d chosen a bar not far from the base, but on the opposite side of town from your apartment. Your eyes drifted across the other patrons, not really taking anyone.

When your beer was almost gone, you excused yourself and walked to the restroom to wash the pretzel salt and oil from your hands, ready to escape for the evening. But when you walked back into the bar, one of the servers stopped you. “A guy over there wanted me to give this to you,” she said, handing you a fresh beer. Glancing at it, you frowned, wondering if one of your coworkers was playing a joke on you.

“Who?” you asked. Turning, she pointed to a man in khaki leaning against the bar and talking to someone. As if feeling your gaze, he turned and smirked, lifting his drink and nodding.

Seresin.

Taking a deep breath and steeling your shoulders, you thanked her and took the beer. Glancing at your coworkers to ensure they weren’t watching, you walked toward the bar, feeling his eyes on you the whole time. You would return the beer, thank him, and then head home to relax. As you neared, he pushed off the bar with a smile and wink before retreating towards the dartboard where a group of Navy guys were congregated. Debating the merits of confronting him in front of a group or sucking it up, you swallowed your pride. You took a sip of the beer, and resigned yourself to at least another half an hour there, listening to some truly atrocious stories about dating and time in the military from your coworkers.

When the second beer was finished, you quickly said goodnight to your coworkers and went to the bar to close out your tab. “Looks like it’s already covered,” the bartender said when you flagged him down.

“What do you mean? I didn’t leave my card with you.”

“Looks like someone picked it up and left this,” he shrugged, passing you a napkin. Nothing sexier than a woman who knows her way around a jet. Dinner? You looked at the phone number and took a deep breath.

“I’d like to close out that gentleman’s tab,” you said, handing over your credit card. While he rang you out, you grabbed one of your business cards from your wallet, crossed out your office phone number, and underscored your job title. On the back you wrote 1) Thank you 2) Not a tag chaser 3) I don’t date boys in bags 4) CONFLICT OF INTEREST

When he handed you the receipt to sign, you asked him to give the card to Seresin. Then, leaving the napkin on the bar, you turned and saw him frowning in your direction. Smiling, you waved before making your way outside.

Your pajamas were calling.

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

Author's note: The connection between jet fuel and cancer is my dad's story. He's thankfully fine. Tag chasers are people who actively try to date military members (usually for the benefits), and boys in bags is a reference to men in flight suits.

Read Chapter 2

#hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun fic #top gun maverick

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clarksels · 10 months

Text

It's not a cruel summer

Ona Batlle x rem!reader

(pecas : freckles)

"pecas" you called Ona, ever since you met her that had been your nickname for her "you have my cell phone?" Ona raised her arm from the deck chair by the pool, holding your cell phone "why did you have my cell phone?" you asked taking it out of her hand "why do you only have Taylor Swift music?" she answered with a question "because it's summer duh" Ona took off her sunglasses "I'm sure in the winter your playlist will be the same"

You sat on a deck chair next to Ona, while the other girls of the team were preparing the grill "when did your boobs grow? Ona asked you when she saw you in your swimsuit "I think this morning" you answered with laughter.

"I always wanted to live a movie summer" you said turning to look at Ona "a summer doing what girls my age do" you added.

Ona was about to respond when Mary arrived holding two glasses, Ona took one and you took the other, after a while of conversation with Mary and Ona you got up to help your teammates with what they were preparing.

Batlle thought about what you told her, she knew that to be a professional athlete you had to make sacrifices.

Some girls were in the pool playing with a beach ball, others were sunbathing, you and the others were taking care of the food, you were very comfortable with the music, after these days you had to return to America to train for the women's world cup.

"pecas come to dance" you shouted to Ona who was still in the same place, only this time she was watching something on her cell phone "party pooper" you didn't pay more attention to her and continued dancing, the song that was playing always gave you good vibes ~paramore - hard times~.

In the best part of the song you heard Ona's voice calling you, you wanted to embarrass her but her insistence won "YN!" you went like a puppy running to its master but you stopped in your tracks when Mary made a toast, obviously she was already drunk.

"I love you girls" she said crying raising her glass "you are my favorite girls in the world" she finished saying and the hubbub of the Mancherter United players was noticeable.

Continuing on your way you reached Ona "if you don't want to celebrate let me do it" you protested at her earlier interruption "look at this" she showed you her phone, you recognized what it was, pictures of two tickets to Taylor's next concert.

A high pitched scream came out of you that made Ona crumple her face and cover her ears, the girls in the pool repeated her act, you started jumping for joy without even realizing it, you hugged Ona still jumping up and down with happiness. You looked at the pictures of the tickets again, you didn't know how Ona had gotten the tickets two days before the concert, "thank you thank you thank you thank you" you kept saying.

You were back in your country, on the plane ride Ona had slept, you watched videos on youtube of how to make bracelets, you had no idea what you would do with them but in tiktok most of the girls who went to a Taylor concert wore them.

Ona was putting on some earrings in front of the mirror when you decided to talk "I don't want you to say goodbye to me" you complained.

Since you found out that Ona would be at Barcelona next season no one talked about it. Ona had been your first friend on the team and as Mary said in her toast, they were also your favorite girls in the world, but the connection you had with Ona was different and if she left it wouldn't be the same.

"You think I'm doing this to say goodbye to you?" you shrugged "you traveled all this way just for a concert instead of going to see your family, for what other reason would it be?" Ona finished putting on her earrings and looked at you "first don't make me look bad daughter and second if you think we won't be friends anymore because I will be in Barcelona you don't know me well" Ona informed you "I'm going to miss you anyway" you said pouting.

When you and Ona finished getting ready you and Ona left the hotel to get to the concert earlier and live the whole experience. "I'll be back in a moment" said Ona before leaving in a hurry and disappearing among the people coming and going, while you were waiting for Ona's arrival you exchanged bracelets with some girls, the excitement could be seen on your face.

Ona came to you and gave you a white t-shirt "we should wear this" she said holding another t-shirt, you took the one she had given you and spread it with your hands, it had something written on it, you recognized it was Ona's handwriting "karma is my girlfriend" you read the phrase on the t-shirt "this is mine" Ona said showing you hers that had "karma" written on it.

You laughed "you know that is karma is my boyfriend, right?" Ona rolled her eyes "don't you understand?" Ona said with frustration "this is my way of asking you if you want to be my girlfriend" you opened your mouth slightly in astonishment, that had taken you by surprise "you like me?" you questioned "I didn't come to America to say goodbye to you, I came because I love you".

"pecas" you exclaimed hugging Ona "this is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever done for me" Ona cradled your face in her hands "I need an answer" she mumbled, you nodded repeatedly "yes" you answered still with your hands around Ona's waist "she is my girlfriend!" shouted Ona provoking applause from the people around, Ona brought her face close to yours and gave you a tender kiss on the lips.

#ona batlle #Ona batlle Fanfiction #woso fanfics #woso #woso imagine #manchester united #barcelona women #lesbian pride #the eras tour #mary earps

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moonshynecybin · 3 months

Note

#prince of a small country addressing the nation concerning his recent marriage to italian motogp superstar valentino rossi <- oh. OH !!!!! genuinely i need more….. how did they meet…. is marc giving up his title to marry vale….. much to think abt…..

i love this one it’s about marc like. putting down the pr mask and realizing he can have something for himself…

so! much like our marc, in his youth he was a tiny adrenaline junkie obsessed with motorcycles, valentino rossi, and valentino rossi’s y2k bisexual swag. unlike our marc, he was not allowed to continue racing past a certain age bc he is the crown prince of a nation and it was considered too dangerous for him. he rides too hard, he doesn’t want to put that on alex if anything happens to him, etc

but our brave marc is not a complainer! ever! even when he absolutely should be! so he grits his teeth buckles down and does his duty. for his family. for his country. for his brother. for years. but he still keeps tabs on vale, allows himself that small joy. catches races whenever he can—watching them on his phone in airports and the back of cars all over the world. instagram stalking him like a weirdo. trying to covertly attend races with alex in silly disguises SURROUNDED by security, hat pulled low… a wistful thrill in his stomach as he hears the bikes roar past… eyes on valentino the whole way

and then they meet! marc is in his early twenties and they’re at some party marc hates but he’s keeping the big smile on his face as he greets people and vale (here for sponsorship obligation comma bored) notices him across the room and goes hey. that guys hot and looks equally bored! so he goes up, does a silly bit, and is immediately confronted with a full frontal assault of marc’s big dumb smile and shining eyes <3 also realizes he is a fan IMMEDIATELY even though marc is trying to keep it on the DL which he reallyyyyy enjoys so they spend the whole night snickering in their own little world…

whirlwind romance ensues!! and they have history’s least carbon neutral affair over the next few months with the amount of plane rides they charter anshshsgg… truly marc learning to love life and ignore some of his responsibilities for once… insane sex in expensive hotels bc vale wants to show him a good time… extravagant rich people gifts…. personalized helmet tribute only the two of them get… lots of references to marc in interviews that only marc and him understand. like FULLY inside jokes with themselves excluding the press so the other will smile when they watch the interview later when they’re apart… and the CROWN JEWEL PUN NOT INTENDED: ranch visittttttttt where they have a BLAST. vale gets to excercise his clear love of teaching and praise marc, be impressed with his raw talent on the bike. and marc is. SO happy. looks valentino dead in the eye at the end of the day vale’s big hands on either side of his face and tells him this is the best day of his life… and he looks at vale and loves him SO much but feels so trapped by the monarchy (his advisors know this and have been quietly maneuvering the nation towards democracy… marc does not know this) and something cracks in him and he’s just like. i don’t think i can do this anymore. and vale’s face DROPS and marc’s like. do you want to get married. bc he’s insane <3 and it’s the only way he can think to bind vale to him permanently in a way the monarchy/his duty can’t interfere with… like no one can argue with a royal wedding!

SO THEY ELOPE!!! scandal of the century!!! and then marc’s advisors (everyone say thank you to his fictional advisors who create democracy in a nation not bc it is a better form of government but for pure love of the yaoi game) pass the resolution to change the government and marc is FREE to follow vale around the world and get really good on the bike again and learn that it is OKAY to love things and not sacrifice your whole self at the alter of duty :)

#callie speaks #motogp #rosquez #this is like a reverse cinderella where they’re both rich #asks

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spinningwebsandtales · 2 years

Text

Imagine Looking At Maverick’s Photo Collection With Rooster

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X FemReader

Warnings: Suggestive themes, mentions of death, angst but mostly fluff

Rating: T

Words: 1,688

Requested by @carpediem1219

(A/N): I honestly didn’t think I was going to be able to get this done so fast but I got started writing and couldn’t stop until I finished. I absolutely loved writing this and I hope it’s everything you hoped and wished for. Thank you again for the request it brings me such joy to be able to write things that my readers want to see! Enjoy the fluff and until next time happy reading! ~Countess

This day was one you were always going to remember, as you watched the scenery pass by while sitting in the passenger side of Rooster’s Ford Bronco. The sun seemed to shimmer on the dust kicked up behind the Bronco’s tires while the rays made your skin glow. Rooster relaxed in the driver’s seat, one hand lazily on the steering wheel with his aviators perched on his nose. You couldn’t help but notice his wind tousled hair and how the breeze pulled at his tank top giving you glimpses of his broad chest. He was wearing one of his father’s old shirts you noticed as well.

Married life with Rooster was absolute bliss and you couldn’t help the feeling of joy when taking glances at the golden ring you had slipped onto his ring finger that unforgettable day. You remembered the fear at the news that he and Maverick had been shot down during their mission but you were relieved when the news broke that they were okay came around. You were angry but also thankful that they both made it through.

Rooster had always looked at Maverick as a father figure until their relationship was strained. You couldn’t talk Rooster out of hating the man who tried so hard but when you both had a talk the night he returned from his mission he talked about how he forgave Maverick and you were so proud. Now with their father and adopted son relationship patched you were going to see Maverick’s hanger for the first time. You were kinda hoping for a plane ride as well as a tour. Rooster glimpsed over at you smiling to yourself.

“What’s got you all smiles over there,” he grinned looking back at the gravel road.

“I wanna go on a plane ride,” you giggled like a five year old. “I can’t believe I haven’t gotten to come here before!”

“Weelll I didn’t help matters,” Rooster said sheepishly.

“No you didn’t but that’s all in the past. I’m glad that everything is better between you two. I know Mav has your best interests at heart.” You took Rooster’s free hands his fingers automatically tangling with yours. “I have the same want in my life that you are happy and that you are healthy.”

Rooster kissed the back of your hand since he couldn’t look away from the road but for just a few seconds, “As long as I have you, I have everything I could ever want and need.”

“Oh stop or we’re not going to make it to Maverick’s without a pit stop,” you snickered.

“I’ll pull over right now!”

“No,” you laughed slapping his shoulder. “Maverick is waiting for us. But you can take me to bed after we visit with Mav.”

“I’ll remember that,” he wiggled his eyebrows behind his aviators.

“Oh I know you will. I’ll help you!”

Maverick stood outside the hanger entrance waiting on the arrival of two of his most favorite people and when he saw the Bronco trailing dust a large smile graced his face. Before Rooster could shut off the vehicle you were out of the passenger side racing towards Maverick with open arms.

“Mav,” you yelled your hair billowing behind you.

“Hey! Glad you both got here safely,” Maverick answered embracing you before picking you up and swinging you around. “Welcome to my place.”

“Navy man through and through are we,” you teased seeing the faded words above your head.

“It’s in the blood.” Maverick turned to Rooster who was now standing close his hands in his pocket. Maverick gave his arm a tender slap before pulling the young man into a hug. Rooster returned it, happy to have all animosity gone. You both followed Maverick inside to where he showed you his very own P-51 Mustang and all the work he had been doing to the aircraft. Rooster was really intrigued but they lost you right at the beginning. So you just found yourself looking around at the surrounding area of the hanger. There was awards hanging everywhere, motorcycles lined up in a row, a smaller closet, and other things that piqued your curiosity. Stepping away you looked back at both of the men, Maverick could tell that you didn’t want to just stand around to hear them talk planes so he gave you a nod.

Off you went to explore more on your own. While he still payed attention to Maverick and he was interested on being hands-on with a different plane Rooster couldn’t help but watch as you explored around on your own.

“Don’t be,” Rooster chuckled picking up the photo you were reaching for. It was him as a kid being held by Maverick as Goose and Carole stood by his side. “Dad died a little after this photo was taken.”

Your hands crossed behind your back you rocked back and forth on your heels while reading the multiple plaques up on the wall. Maverick was absolutely amazing and one heck of a pilot. And while all his awards were intriguing there was one spot you were making your way to that had your interest more than anything else. One spot held pictures of all kinds and you could tell most of the people on them. Even far away you could recognize Rooster’s dad that he couldn’t help but talk about all the time. You were reaching for a photo when a presence made itself known at your side causing you to jump.

“Sorry,” you cringed. You felt like a kid caught with their hand stuck in the cookie jar.

“I know you told me that he died when you were a kid but I didn’t quite imagine that you were that young Roos.” Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes.

“Yeah,” he chuckled bitterly. “Mom did everything she could and Maverick was my father figure as I grew up. But I was kind of a brat growing up without a dad. Fellow kids didn’t help, I was bullied some. That’s why I never told anybody in Top Gun about Goose being my dad or how he was Maverick’s wingman. I didn’t want the sympathy and I didn’t want anybody to know why I hated Maverick so bad.”

“Rooster,” you whimpered.

“Hey don’t cry it’s okay,” he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and giving you a squeeze. “Here look at nerdy looking me in my ball uniform.” You laughed at his curly hair sticking out from under the green cap. You sniffled but took the photo.

“I think you look really cute.”

“So did mom,” he rolled his eyes. “Good thing I’m a better pilot than I am baseball player. I didn’t suck, but I wasn’t the best either.”

“Who’s tempting,” you cooed.

“Top Gun pilots are cooler than baseball players,” you teased elbowing him. “But this one,” you picked up another photo, “is my absolute favorite.” You touched the photo tenderly of Rooster in his official Navy uniform. A sharp looking photo of him well groomed and his uniform pressed.

“Picture day was awful,” he moaned.

“But you look so hot,” you purred.

“Careful Maverick is still around,” he warned. “Don’t tempt me.”

Maverick felt like he had given you both enough time and he was wanting to visit with you as well. When Rooster had talked to him about finally asking you to marry him, despite the rift between them, he was beyond ecstatic. You were good for Rooster and kept him grounded. Now he looked to you as a daughter so he didn’t feel too guilty when he cut in.

“Walking down memory lane,” he spoke patting you on the shoulder.

“Yeah. Or you could also say that I’m laughing at all these photos of baby Rooster.”

“Ain’t he a cutie,” Maverick cooed reaching to pinch Rooster’s cheek. The younger man slapped the offending hand away giving Maverick a nasty glare.

“I think it’s time to add to the pile besides just these ones,” Rooster replied looking down at you still in awe of all the pictures of the people Maverick considered family.

Maverick nodded also looking down at you still oblivious, “(Y/N) I think it’s time to start adding you to the family wall album.”

“Me?!”

“Pfft yeah,” Rooster snorted. “You married me! Welcome to our weird and kinda tragic family.”

Maverick nodded in agreement, “Welcome new pilot let’s go get your picture taken with Rooster of course.” Before you could protest or say anything else you were swept off your feet by Rooster who started towards the plane parked in the middle of the hanger. Maverick grabbed a camera he kept around (he would lie saying that he hadn’t bought it two days ago with this in mind) before following behind Rooster. Rooster stopped in front of the plane refusing to let you go despite your protests.

“Perfect,” Maverick answered. “It’s finally official (Y/N) Bradshaw is now one of us.”

“Say cheese,” Maverick yelled positioning himself and the camera for the best angle. You had no choice but to give in so you threw up a peace sign while giving Rooster a big smooch on the cheek.

“Cheese,” you mumbled, lips pressed against Rooster’s scarred cheek.

Rooster laughed still holding you while Mav took the photo.

“Glad to be here,” you nodded. The rest of the day was spent laughing and telling stories and you couldn’t remember having so much fun.

Taglist: @mads-weasley

As the years passed by, the collection of photos began to grow. Photos of Rooster helping Maverick with his plane, you cooking dinner for them, Penny joining the growing family with her daughter, and then came the photos of you with Rooster, your stomach rounded with the next generation of Bradshaws. Those were Maverick’s favorites. The first pregnancy photo was followed by another and then one more. Then photos became the sound of tiny feet padding against the hanger floor. The calls of children with the perfect mix of Rooster and you following their father around asking questions. It was the kind of perfect that Maverick thought would never come and yet here it was and he wouldn’t change anything.

#Bradley Bradshaw X Reader #Bradley Bradshaw / Reader #Rooster X Reader #Rooster / Reader #Top Gun #Top Gun Maverick #Top Gun Imagine #Imagine #Not My Gif #My Writing #Request

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thesamoanqueen · 1 year

Text

Typa Girl

Raiting: 18+

Warnings: SMUT; Oral sex (female receiving); Spank kink; Hair pulling; errors after errors after errors after errors after errors...

A/N: I missed an appointment last week, but I wrote more than usual... requested by @nayys-world , Roman coming out of the shower with a low towel on his hips, a great classic (set in Riyadh). Hope you like it sis~

With the sound of the shower tapping on the marble, he paused to watch the city slowly awaken with him, the silhouette of the stadium in the distance and the sandy haze clouding what lay beyond. There was a strange light, a play of colors that became brighter with each passing minute and was reflected on the white surfaces of the bathroom. He leaned his head against the wall and stood there for a while, with his eyes closed, the water running hot on his skin and sticking his hair to his forehead. After a plane ride like that and a busy evening like the previous one, it took more than a couple of hours of sleep - less than it could have been - but the shower was slowly doing its job and Roman took advantage without haste, enjoying that morning break that was often denied him.

He had interviews to do, people to hear and see, Paul would join him at lunchtime with the jet and then there would be training inside the stadium. The ring had to be checked and he already knew that in the end he would have to change in a hurry, to attend some dinner with a dozen wealthy Arab heirs who would nod to his answers with the same expression as a group of Kentucky Derby gamblers. He was used to that attitude, he didnt blame them, on the other hand the competition in which he would take part had as its first and main purpose that, to give those people one more reason to continue to shell out exorbitant sums to see them and to see him, to the joy of the executives and his bank account, they were willing to bring out surreal sum. But before his bustling PPV routine began, Roman had an empty couple of hours and was more than willing to take advantage of them.

He ran a hand over his face, the damp air from the shower smelled of lotions he had used to wash himself and his muscles had finally relaxed thanks to the warmth of the water. He enjoyed that sensation for a few more minutes, before reaching the sink and retrieving a towel to wrap around his hips. The fabric was soft against the skin and Roman took another one to pat his hair, passing it after he finished, on the huge mirror with golden edges that replicated his figure. He smoothed a little of the beard that had grown on the sides of his face, tied his hair and opened the bathroom door again. The blinding light of the city hit him in full, unexpected and brilliant, filtering through the huge windows that had been darkened for the night when he woke up.

He had left them closed before going to the bathroom, to allow her to sleep more, which only meant one thing...

He turned to look at the bed, the sheets were unmade, the pillows where shouldn't have been. The clothes from the previous night were still lying on the armchair, a pair of hotel slippers had ended up under the small table with the flowers. But Y/N wasn't there.

Just the idea that she had slipped away while he was taking a shower, gathering her things as if she had been in any dude’s room for a one night stand, made him mad. He hated the idea of not having her for himself at all times and more time passed, more they continued, more difficult it became for him to hold back, but he could do nothing at that point. With the mood already mounting, he wrinkled his nose and ran a hand over his face in an attempt to physically get rid of that feeling, a useless operation that was better managed by the noises coming from the living room of the suite. They were muffled and Roman, looked distractedly at the alarm, perhaps the reception had sent someone to anticipate him in his requests... not intending to get dressed early, he reached the threshold with a distracted look, ready to send away anyone who had entered, but he stopped abruptly as his eyes spotted a familiar figure.

He would have recognized those legs anywhere and from every angle.

On her stomach, with her bare calves swaying distractedly in the air, Y/N had taken possession of one of the couch, his Ipad in her hands and a bowl of fruit beside her. She had tied her unmade hair into a ponytail and a sudden, pleased smile appeared on Roman's face as he recognized one of his shirts on her. It was too big, one of those Bloodline merchandise the federation sent him every day to drive sales, but it fit her and it was his.

He had tried to slow down, hold back and keep that an occasional affair, but Y/N made it impossible for him and that, that moment, was all he wanted now. He wanted her with him, day and night, he wanted to be able to reach out and touch her knowing he didn't even have to look for her, he wanted to fall asleep without the thought of knowing where she was - or with who -, he wanted her for himself, with him.

An amused breath escaped his mouth, seeing her move on the couch just enough to unintentionally uncover a portion of her beautiful ass and the sight of her lacy blue lingerie was enough to make him snap.

- Y’ready for another three-star match, Tribal Chief? - Y/N greeted him, without even turning around, while Roman sat down next to her.

- Three? - he asked, not so interested. One arm on the cream-colored backrest and his other hand stroking her leg.

- Dave doesn’t like it, I guess ... - she mulled distractedly, scrolling through news after news with her fingers.

That was not the news of the day, but the routine. The only news around was her, still in his room and without the apparent intention of leaving.

- Dave doesn't like a lot of things he watches - he commented distractedly, as Y/N turned over on the couch, the screen still in front of her face.

- Hum… - she nodded - Few moves, trivial and badly dones. I’ve heard these things before.

- Is not about the moves, its the outcome.

- You might try something different? - she tried, letting go of the iPad to look at him.

A hand to caress the soft skin of her thigh, Roman already had his eyes on her, he had them since he crossed the threshold and he would not take them off her for the next three hours, even at cost of forcing her to stay. He saw her look at him quickly, her eyes wandering over his bare chest and slowing down for a moment on the towel he had tied to his hips and which, due to the movements of her legs, had slipped lower than it should, before climbing up to his face.

She was a fucking delight, he would have eaten her alive.

- Like you with my T? - he asked in a low tone, feeling the consistency of her thighs and her withdraw them slightly, her expression wavering just for a second before attacking.

- I heard the door open, I didn't know was already morning

He would have preferred to hear her say that she wanted something of him, but Y/N was not that kind of woman, she would never have given him the satisfaction of admitting that and it was true, in the hotels of that country he had never bothered to pick up the phone to make half a request.

- There's no one now and you 've still got too many clothes on - he complained, looking down at what she was denying him.

- Do you want your T back? - Y/N teased him instead, tugging on the shirt little and Roman rocked back his head, grabbing her ankle to pull her closer.

- Im not talkin about the T.

- I have nothing else.

- Spread those legs babygirl - he ordered, seeing her plant her eyes on him, her breath blocked.

The way she could speed him up in seconds was dangerous and even more dangerous that she could keep up with him smoothly. He had been with enough women to recognize in most cases who was in front of him, but Y/N... Y/N was another category. She was an assault platoon alone and she gave him yet another confirmation, when rather than go along with him she thought it best to raise her legs. She was able to go from rolling around with a tablet on the couch, chatting about comments and statements, to taking off her lingerie on her own and even putting on a show.

He watched her take it off her tiptoe, abandoning it in the chair along with the iPad still open on the umpteenth idiocy about him. Her center, soft and already wet, in full view and Roman licked his lips, passing an arm under her back to lift her towards him without waiting for anything else.

He liked that stuff, he'd always been looking for someone who wasn't just a faded memory or not, but with her, he touched another level. He had been hanging in the balance for too long and when they finally crossed the line, it felt like drinking after a thirsty life. There was nothing else capable of attracting his attention like she did, nothing that catalyzed his thoughts to the point of becoming an obsession, nothing that could turn his stomach and excite him like seeing her ready for him.

His body seemed to charge just by touching her and the sound of her moans was all he wanted to hear for the rest of his days.

- No commitments today? - Y/N asked, while Roman placed her legs on his shoulders, a hand firmly under her buttocks and the beard that was already rubbing on the skin of her thighs.

- This my only commitment - he roared in response, two fingers making their way inside her, pushing her to arch her back with a moan - what's wrong, babygirl? Tough you liked teasing.

She made him feel powerful the way her body reacted to his attentions and he wanted more, he wanted it all.

He twisted his wrist to explore better her insides, her walls embracing his fingers and he bent one over, touching her sweet spot and placing his thumb on her clit. Avoided applying pressure, enjoying her hot breath and the wet sound her pussy made with every movement, even the most subtle. Slowly, he slipped in another finger, spreading her wide enough to make her groan and an amused smile twisted his mouth as he watched her writhe for something more.

- Roman... - he heard her complain, her hips spinning.

- Hm? - a kiss and another on her legs.

- Faster.

- Always so needy, im trying to be a gentlemen - he laughed, pulling out his fingers and Y/N gave him a look, her foot pressing on his shoulder blades to keep him closer.

- N-not when im naked.

He knew what she liked and was always more than happy to please her, but not doing it was part of the game and having control over her was something he didn't want to give up. She could carry on with that attitude as long as she wanted, but in the end she would not be able to put two words in a row and the very thought of it made his cock throb, causing him to lower between her legs with his forehead frowned.

- Ssh, let me do my work babygirl - he inspired, her scent was intoxicating and he found himself closing his eyes, the warmth of her body surrounding him.

He rubbed his nose against her, breathing deeply and gave a long lick, feeling her vibrate against his tongue. Her moods were fucking sweet and a smug growl escaped his chest as he stretched his mouth wide to suck her soft lips, throbbing flesh. Y/N moaned, her back lifted under his big arm, her legs tightening her grip, trying to get him closer and Roman squeezed, hand planted on her soft buttock. He wrapped his tongue around her button, moving it from side to side, amid Y/N's muffled moans and twisted his head, digging his tongue into her moist slit to collect her moisture. Her folds were soft, throbbing and he flattened his tongue, tasting without haste, his mouth already kneaded with her juices that slowly began to mix with his saliva, sliding on his beard.

- R-ro! F-fuck! M-more… - Y/N whimpered and her fingers tightened in his hair, trying to grab what she could.

- Mmh… you taste like a fuckin candy - he growled, licking his mouth to return to devote himself to her.

Her nails were pulling out his bun one black strand at a time and with her knees pressed behind his head, he had little leeway, but he didn't care. All that mattered at that moment were the muffled moans of her body and the hunger that was building up in his stomach, one lick after another. He sucked hard, holding one of her lips between teeth and forcefully insinuated a finger, gathering what he could before cleaning it with a sound of approval. A sticky trail remained on the side of his hand and he looked up at Y/N, with one hand on her breast wrapped around his shirt, looking at him out of breath and with wet eyes.

He would have ruined her for himself and for no one else.

- R-Roma-ahn! - he almost heard her scream, remaining only with her shoulders resting, when he pinched her bundle of nerves and then stroked it with his thumb.

- Are you ok, babygirl? - his voice hoarse for her and two fingers crawling inside, pumping slowly up to his knuckles -… is this pace good enough? - he inquired, rubbing her thighs with his wet beard.

Y/N shook fast her head, her belly contracted and a lip between her teeth. He slowed down again, just touching her with his tongue to collect the liquid that was dripping on his wrist and she closed her eyes, a moan and another, making his cock throb. It was hard, his tip was now rubbing against the towel almost painfully, but it wasn't time yet, not yet. So he also deprived her of his fingers and for a second he watched in raptures at the show of her moist center huddling around nothing, before licking again, outside and then inside, again and again.

- S-Stop it! - Y/N wriggled into his arms, her hands planted against Roman’s head to push him away.

- Be still... - he warned her, widening his mouth to suck her as much as he could.

But it wasn't enough, he knew it and he felt it from the way Y/N's body was now writhing, her orgasm slowly mounting, burning her without making her explode.

- Lemme g-go-! Ro, n-no! - she protested in a broken voice, legs trembling.

Roman gave no sign of having heard it, securing her against his bare chest with downcast eyes.

- R-Romahn… ah, s-sto-stop! N-no like th– she squeaked, pushing, but to get enough pressure she would have to hold the position and her body was out of control.

He licked again, deep, feeling her burn and throb around his tongue. A streak of humor dripped onto his chest, watering onto the stretched tablecloth that was now forcing him and Roman felt something else dripping onto his testicles for the pleasure, accompanied by a hoarse moan.

He could have gone on for the rest of the day, just to have that, to feel her shaking from his attentions, but her walls were throbbing uncontrollably, she was on the verge of orgasm and so he stopped, suddenly, without warning, letting her fall back on the couch. He watched her gasp with her eyes closed, face contracted, her forehead sweaty and he ran a hand over his boner, without discretion or calm, relieving the throbbing of his tense flesh for a second. He shook his head from side to side, hungry and stood up, grabbing her weight to lift her, while Y/N opened her eyes again.

- Whatcha d-doing? - she asked bewildered, feeling herself carried away to the table.

Someone from the hotel had made it for breakfast, but that wasn't what he wanted to use it for, not at the moment. He held her tightly, her back pressed against his side and with one hand he made space between plates, glasses and the selection of preferences they had been made available to him. Y/N continued to watch him in silence at work, her hands clasped on his muscular arm that held her until he undressed one side of the table and pulled her away from him, giving her a slap on the ass that made her jump.

- Bend over - he ordered and Y/N looked him over her shoulder, her expression amazed.

He hadn't really hit her, but it was new and judging from her face, it couldn't have happened many times in her past. Maybe never?

- Dont give me that look. Bend over, im not kidding - he repeated impassively, hitting in the same spot with a little bit more force.

Y/N jumped again, but her hands still landed on the table. Roman watched her bend over it, legs wide apart and one cheek resting on the wood and a new rush of adrenaline rushed through him, a smirk on his lips as he stroked her round ass.

She was so perfect, there in full view for him... she was his, at that moment more than any other, inside that hotel room, away from their busy lives and always under surveillance.

He leaned down to kiss the portion of skin uncovered by the shirt, between her neck and shoulder, feeling her rub against his hard cock, her body still vibrating despite the interruption he had obliged and he got up. Not feeling him on her anymore, Y/N just turned around, peeking and shaking instinctively, seeing him undress the towel to grab his hard-on. It was swollen, throbbing and a low growl rumbled in his throat as he rubbed the wet tip on her entrance, making her tremble. He grabbed her by her hip, repeating that operation again, not enough pressure to penetrate her, but just enough to dirty himself with her moods and Y/N stirred on the table, strangled moans gushing from her lips with each contact.

- Faster. Harder... - he remembered, rubbing under her folds, to press on her bundle of nerves.

Y/N tried to straighten up again, more by instinct than by a real will to get away from him and Roman put a hand on her hair, grabbing her ponytail to hold her down on the table. Another slap on her ass.

- … ahn…! - he heard her moan, hips moving continuously with excitement.

- Is that what you want, babygirl? Hm? - he questioned her after a new slap, the tip pressing against her entrance and her center slowly pulsing around nothing, trying to grab it.

- R-Ro...

She was so horny at that point and Roman could have said the same.

- Don't worry, I'll take care of you - he assured her in an husky growl, before pushing himself inside her without waiting any longer.

Y/N squeezed her hands with a moan, trying to keep herself where she could, but unless she threw down the whole table there was little that she could be of help and on the other hand she didn't have a real need. Choked by her walls that throbbed ready for her orgasm, Roman held her pressed to the wood, one hand squeezing her side and the other wrapped in her hair, his eyes closed and his tongue running over his lips. She was tight and wet, he couldn't hold back and his hips pushed hard, sinking inside her where he knew and after the torture he had subjected her to, Y/N crumbled under him, trembling with a cry for her climax. He felt her tighten and throbbing, her body vibrating with pleasure and he started hammering, not giving her time to get off her orgasm. Her hands tried to reach him, one of her closed around his wrist as the other wandered into nothing and Roman picked up the pace, pounding her thrust after thrust, his boner getting stiffer on hers inside stretching her without respite. Roman looked down under him, where their bodies continued to collide and growled excitedly, seeing the walls of her holding him in a wet grip that dripped moods everywhere and pulled her up a little, making her moan deeper.

- Hmm ... g-good girl... you're so-wet ...

- P-Plea-se… again p-please! - she begged, hips swaying to meet his rough thrusts.

- T-take me so well… - he throws, pulling her on one leg, to sink better.

This new angle made him sink to the base of his manhood and the sound of his balls banging against her echoed in Roman ears along with the uncontrolled moans of Y/N. She could scream as much as she wanted inside that room and Roman was more than willing to take advantage of it. He lowered his head, closing his eyes for a long moment and pumped in and out of her without holding back, crushing her with his weight, his boner throbbing in her and her walls choking him. Losing track of time, he let himself go inside her, his heart racing and his mind clouded, focusing only on the sensation of warmth rising up in his belly, his tense muscles and his cock smashing into her walls.

His world was reduced every single time to that, the incessant search for the comfort of her body, the curve of her hips, her skin under his fingers and those walls that gripped him to exasperation as if it were the first time.

- T-There! P-pleease… ah!

Merciless and tireless, he penetrated her harder, faster, hips clashing fast against her, frantically searching for another contact. He had the sensation of being sucked inch by inch, his nuts tense and grimy with her humours that made him slide relentlessly, dirtying his entire length so that he hit her where her center was more sensitive.

- God! Y-you feel a-amazing… s-so tight! Y-yes - he growled, breathing hard and with sweaty body.

Y/N was shaking now, her fingernails stuck in his wrist and her mouth wide open in a continuous moan. She pushed herself on the toe and then also took off the other foot from the ground, Roman who was now holding her by the hips hammering without restraint, heedless of the not very encouraging sound of the table on which it had overturned who knows what and their moods dripping on his legs. He squeezed her ponytail, making her tilt her head back and lowered himself on her, kissing her temple, before increasing the pace even more, the boner that tensed. It was close and Y/N was on the verge of coming again, he could feel it from the warmth of her center, from the way her breath locked with every stroke of his tip against her sweet spot. He pushed again, sank into her walls, opening her for himself and no one else.

- R-ro... ah... I-I...R-ro! - Y/N cried, the scent of her filling his lungs.

- I-Im r-right t-there… c-cmon… c-come for me! - he encouraged her, swaying frantically against her, eyes focused below him, where she was holding him - come on t-this c-cock -

Y/N moaned just for a few more moments, before suddenly stiffening, her center vibrating and quivering with the spasms of her climax, his name continuing to gush out of her mouth between the thrusts. Roman leaned over her, an arm under her to rub between her skin, the T and the table, insisting on sinking even when it all became too much at the feel of his bulge. His mind was completely white for a moment and his hard-on suddenly tensed, releasing one hot gush inside her after the other, hips continuing to hammer her and push him deeper. He growled into her back, abs tense and veins throbbing, seeing his cum dripping from her entrance, dirtying them both and something in his lower belly snapped, prompting him to sink relentlessly at the sight.

Over and over, more, until he found himself fumbling with nothing left to give her, a shiver running down her spine as he loosened his grip on her and tried to hold them both without collapsing on top of her. He rubbed his face on her back and stood for a long moment with his forehead pressed to the shirt that was now stuck to her skin from the sweat, before rising with a rough breath and leaving her with a moan. Roman looked at his boner, dirty of both of them and ran a hand over his forehead, waiting for Y/N to get up, placing her feet on the ground uncertain for an moment. He held her against him, dragging her into an couch, to collapse with her in his lap and he felt her kiss his cheeks, his jaw, to comfort him before resting her head against his shoulder. He closed his eyes, arms firmly wrapped around her body, her clenched legs pressing on Roman side and a surreal silence to lull them both. The scent of the lotions he had used for the shower had irremediably mixed with sex scent and Y/N’s scent and he rubbed his face against her head, kissing her softly through her messy hair.

That ponytail had been a dangerous choice, at least as much as putting on his shirt. But if it weren't for that, it would have been her legs, the sight of her on the couch, and any other pretext that made him snap. He was not the kind of man who told lies to himself, he knew perfectly well what he was doing and Y/N was not something he would give up or hold back for.

He stroked the back of her neck, a few strands again hopelessly curly from her sweat and he kissed her again, feeling her pull up her head to look at him.

- A spank? Seriously? - she asked with a fake serious expression, voice still uncertain.

- I was trying something different, you advised me - Y/N shook her head, before she straightened up a bit.

She slipped her arms around his neck and with a satisfied smile, Roman rubbed his lips against hers, foreheads touching and his hands running on her hips again.

- I liked it… and that thing with my hair. - she admitted softly, but without shame, and he nodded.

- I know.

- And do y’know what I would like now? - she said, without really giving him time to answer - your shower 'cause y'owe it to me - she established with a smile, getting up with legs firmer than before to leave him on the couch.

But Roman had no intention of sitting or reading at the time any online news about him before the PPV. He glanced sideways at the iPad that kept turning on for notifications and got up with a noisy breath, quickly reaching her in the bedroom to catch her by the hips and pull her up.

- Roman I really need a shower - Y/N laughed, not bothering to try to escape.

- We’ll take a shower. In the end.

- In the end?!

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyanross @wickedsunfire @romanstheory @thiccc-rider-mcintyre @keybladeofsteel @mcreignsera @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @jeyreigns @civildawn @minanajra @romanmydaddy @raidenandreigns @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @itjazzbicch @ichdrachenfrau @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @mariamheeeeee @vintage-pvssy @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @helensanders92 @niknakbucks92

#roman reigns #roman reigns smut #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns one shot #roman reigns x female reader #roman reigns x y/n #wwe fanfiction #wwe #wwe smut

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