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#God knows I'm struggling to get back into it right now
charlotteking23 · 2 days
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How To Make Your Girl Happy - MV1/33
Max Verstappen x reader
Summary: Once in awhile, the two of you like to go out at night without a special plan in mind and just do whatever you please. Just like tonight. It's going to be so much fun! Right?...
word count: 1.6K
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You hold the broken gold chain in your hand, crying your eyes out while Max kisses your other hand, trying to calm you down and drive straight at the same time:
"I'm gonna get you another one, Princess, OK?"
"But you gave this to me for our two-year anniversaarrryyyy," you bawl, upset like never before, looking for a tissue in your purse. "Oh, look, baby, a grenade, you suddenly stop your mourning, taking it out and showing it to him.
"I didn't even know I had it in here, you think it's expired?" you wipe your tears, smiling like nothing happened.
"I don't think they expire, liefje," he winks, working his charm on you.
Thank God she got distracted, Max thinks, pleased he avoided the catastrophe. Must be that...time of the month because you always get really emotional; he really doesn't want to deal with it but he has no choice.
"Oh, no!" you suddenly gasp, digging into your purse, and your bottom lip quivers on the verge of crying again. "Maxiiiieeeee, I'm out of my gum," you whimper, staring at him. "I want my gum!"
"Say no more, I will take care of it!" he quickly agrees, really struggling to keep his cool. If he can't keep his girl happy, then who will?! He yanks at the steering wheel, going over the curve, hitting two trash cans in the process, almost killing a cat and a pigeon.
He sees the gas station and since it's so late at night there are no customers. Perfect for what you need. The two of you rush inside and see the clerk freeze in shock when he recognizes the famous F1 driver.
"Look I need gum now!" Max scowled, while you went by the counter and started looking for your gum, and...
"Maxiiiieeee, they don't have strawberry flavor in the brand I like," you whine, feeling another wave of imminent tears strolling down your cheeks.
"What?! Why don't you have strawberry?!" Max raises his voice, alarmed.
"W-we run out s-sir," the clerk stutters, closing his eyes, thinking he was in front of the Max Verstappen. "We have strawberry in o-other brands..."
"I only like this brand!" you interrupt, snorting, wiping your nose with your sleeve while scratching your thigh.
Good gracious, she's such a classy woman, your boyfriend thinks, suddenly aroused, really wanting to bite you all over.
"She only likes this brand!!!!" Max repeats, getting out of his trance, and screaming at the poor guy that trembles like a leaf. "Why are you upsetting my girl, hm? Don't you know you should have that stuff on hand all the time?"
"S-s-sorry s-sir..."
"That's it were leaving this fuckin place", taking your hand and fastly walking back to the car. "Stop crying, Princess, we'll get your gum!" he promises, starting to drive again.
He feels so aggravated, but if he can't keep his girl happy, then who will?!
After a few miles, he notices a small, lonely convenience store and slams the brakes, sharply turning so he can park.
You both run inside, while you look through their stash and let out a scream when you see what you need.
You grab a paper bag and cram in all the strawberry-flavored gum you see in the brand you like and take one last package, wanting to open it when the date gets your attention.
"Maxiiiieeeee, this is expired," you complain, your quivering bottom lip making him lose it.
"Are you trying to kill my girl?!" he snaps at the man, outraged, mostly because he has to deal with you in this state after you leave the store.
"N-no, n-not at all, I-I don't know how it happened," the guy gulps, feeling he's going to faint soon seeing Mad Max.
"They're all expired, baaabyyy," you frantically go through your bag, tossing each little package one after the other.
"Are you trying to kill your customers?! What kind of place is this? You should be reported to the authorities! No princess, don't!" Max slaps your hand when you try to open the last package because you want your gum badly and it makes you more upset when you drop it.
"Let's go, Liefje, this damn city is trying to kill us tonight," he pants, backing out and you hold on to his shirt, following him outside like a lost puppy.
"Hold on, baby," you sniffle and taking a marker out of your purse, heading back to the store and Writing 'loser, and 'don't come here unless you want to be food poison' on the door, shouting at the clerk:
"This is for trying to kill people!", You start laughing, suddenly happy, heading back to your car.
"I don't want gum anymore, can we drive to our spot?" you sweetly ask, kissing his shoulder as he starts driving again.
shit, Max thinks. Why? Because you usually go to your secret spot on top of the hill to have sex. Since you are...not able to for now, it only means one thing: you will want to cuddle and talk.
Your boyfriend takes a deep breath, pretending he's not panicking. But if he can't keep his girl happy, then who will?!
Once you get there, you crawl on the hood with him, placing yourself in between his legs so he can hold your waist from behind.
"Ahhh, this is so nice, isn't it Maxie?" you giggle, putting your hands on top of his. Max is tense but doesn't want to show it. "Wow, a falling star! Make a wish!" you get all excited, clapping and he sighs, bored. "Did you make a wish? What did you wish for?" you turn your head so you can see him
"For Goddamm Monaco to have your stupid gum!" he grumbles, rolling his eyes.
"No way! Me too!" you get on your knees, turning so you can face him. "What were the odds, baby?" You smile so brightly that his sassiness goes down a notch. "You really love me, don't you?" you bite your lip.
"Yeap," his short answer comes and you don't give up.
"How much?"
"Ummm, a lot," he quietly mumbles, uncomfortable, wishing you would change the subject.
"Really?!" you kiss him, astounded. "AWWW that's so sweet," you get all teary and sentimental.
The things he has to go through to please you. But if he can't keep his girl happy, then who will?!
"Dadddyyyy," you trace his biceps, batting your lashes at him.
Oh, hell no, Max thinks. You only call him Daddy in bed (which is not the case here) or when you want something he wouldn't agree with, which is probably the case.
"Yes, liefje?" he tilts his head, waiting to hear what else it's going to come out of your mouth next.
"I think we should have a baby, or two or three, but at least two, yes?" you blur out, enthusiastic to the maximum and he starts getting flustered, not expecting such a twist.
"I don't think so, liefje," Max utters with such determination you start bawling instantly.
"Why nooootttt?" you wail, sobbing with your face on his neck like he's been dead for three months or so. "You think I'm ugly?!"
His hands start caressing your back, trying to soothe you.
"I don't think you're ugly, I think you are a pretty princess," he says, being sincere. "You look beautiful, don't worry," he pets your hair and you wipe your tears, grinning at him. if he can't keep his girl happy, then who will?!
"So let's have kids then," you switch to your original plan, hoping for a positive outcome.
"No...I really don't want to..." he makes a comeback, stubborn and determined not to give in.
You gasp so loud it startles him: "Are you...are you having an affair?"
"What' ?! No, I'm not having an affair," he immediately defends himself, irked you would think something like that.
"Oh my God, you're cheating on me, aren't you?" The crying starts again and you weep on his chest, soiling his favorite redbull shirt with tears and makeup.
"Is she prettier, more beautiful looking than me? You wanna have kids with her and not with me?" you clench your fists on the fabric, heartbroken.
Dammit, why do you have to get like this every month? Max thinks, irritated.
"I'm not having an affair, OK?" he lifts your chin up so he can look you in the eyes. "Stop crying, Now", He requests pissed and you gulp, suddenly holding your breath so you won't make a sound you feel you need air and he watches quite amused at how you struggle to hold your breath, afraid to move. After a few good seconds, you give up and start breathing again.
"I'm not crying anymore, all right?" you kiss him, and since you don't have any tissue, you wipe your nose with your sleeve again and he gropes you,
"I love classy girls; you're so classy princess, " he charges at your cleavage, not being able to control himself anymore.
You snicker, straddling his lap, and just have to say it:
"Maxiiieeee, come on, let's have a baby, or two or three, pleaseeee," you pull his hair and scream when he bites your skin. "Unless you really think I'm ugly," your bottom lip quivers once more, your happiness going downhill as fast as his enthusiasm for the subject.
When he sees the tears rolling down your face he has to get it together with all he's got to muster the words:
"Fine, we'll have a baby," he bitterly mumbles, distressed.
If he can't keep his girl happy, then who will?!
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leafostuff · 2 days
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Operant Conditioning [WooAh's Nana, Jo Yuri]
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Tags: Smut, BFH, Quickie, Dom!Nana, Sub!Jo Yuri, Lesbian Sex, Degradation, Fingering, Scissoring, Rough sex
Author's notes: inspiration for the fic came from a concept i shared with @octoberautumnbox
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So yeah, hope you enjoy my first FxF smut, i swear this is the last quickie before my October release
Edit: changed the title of the fic
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“I swear Unnie, I didn't mean like- AHH!” Yuri quickly gets shut when Nana drills her two fingers inside her clit as instead a symphony of moans comes out of her mouth while her hands were gripping the walls, trying to gain some semblance of strength.
“Oh really? So flirting with me on set, blowing a kiss to me AND sitting on my lap in front of the viewers was just a joke then?” It's a rhetorical question, Yuri shouldn't answer her, but she doesn't know better.
“Ah, Y-yeah, it was a Jok-Jo-OH MY GOD, YES” at this point Nana just laughs at the pathetic attempt at an answer.
“And you want more, don't you? Can't believe it” she shakes her head, now inserting a third finger inside her and getting into a steady pace of Pumping her pussy. “So needy, i really had to drop everything i was doing, get you inside YOUR own and fucking you silly just to get you shut up” She adds, shaking her head in disappointment as just Yuri was about to cum Nana stops herself. “and you know what's the worst part, Yuri?”
“W-what unnie?” Yuri asks in a shaky voice as Nana leans into Yuri’s right ear and whispers.
“That what you're doing works, i am so wet right now just by fingering you, feeling how tight you are, All. For. Me” she answers before giving one strong pump that gets Yuri shrieking in Ecstasy before Nana gets her fingers out, letting Yuri finally catch some breath. 
“And that slutty outfit is not helping” she adds, Seeing how Sweat begins to form all around her tight, green one-piece, creating circles of sweat all around her body.
Now Yuri is in a daze, struggling to even stand straight using only the wall as her support. “Unnie…i am ngh…so close” are the only words she can mumble.
“Oh i know you are Yuri, but just before you are about to cum, I want to have some fun as well” As she finishes those words she starts working on her jeans, popping each button quickly before letting it fall on the floor, letting Yuri revel at Nana’s bare pussy, and how it's dripping.
“Thank god i didn't wear my underwear at home” she exclaimed with a relieved sigh, then quickly pinning Yuri to the wall again “And thank god these walls are soundproof”.
Nana then starts to grind herself over Yuri’s Sex, groaning at the first contact before getting into a rhythm, moving up and down over her creamy thighs and gripping her partner’s Shoulder with her nails.
“Ahh, More unnie, More” Pleasure hits high for Yuri as she tilts her head, giving Nana access to Yuri’s neck she begins to spread bites all across the shoulder up to the collarbone, she’s so sensitive there that Yuri can't help but moan loudly when Nana nibbles on her neck.
“You're such a slut, aren't you? Acting all flirty in front of the camera but when a couple of good fingers stretch your pussy you go insane, isn't that right?” Nana growls, lips close to Yuri’s ears.
“Ah! Yes unnie, i am” Yuri breathily responds, she could go insane with the amount of pleasure Nana is giving her.
“Say it again” She demands
“I am a slut, unnie”
“Louder” Nana then starts grinding herself faster
“I'm a slut!!” 
“I said louder dammit!!” Even faster
“I am a slut unnie!! I'm your dirty little slut which you can fuck whenever you want” Yuri shouts as her eyes roll back and her mouth wide open, letting her tounge loll out.
“Damn right you are, from now on your pussy belongs to me and only me, is that clear Yuri?” Nana groans, right hand softly holding her by the collarbone.
“Y-yes Unnie, my pussy is only for you-Ahhh” poor Yuri finally reaches her climax as cum begins to erupt, flowing over Nana’s naked thigh and into the floor. Eventually its over as she then falls onto the floor, looking up at Nana scoffing over her.
Checking the phone, Nana only sighs in disappointment while cleaning her own thigh from any leftover cum. “I'm not done with you” She said, noticing how Yuri begins closing her eyes to gather her strength However Nana grabs her by her thighs and pins her into the floor.
“You made me miss lunch because of your behaviour Yuri” Nana adds, parting her legs open so she could lean her face closer to Yuri’s dripping pussy, she then looks up and says. 
“You better taste like it
=================================
Started 23/9/24, Posted on 24/9/24
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"Calvin? Calvin, sweetheart?"
In the darkness Calvin heard the sound of Susie, his wife of fifty-three years. Calvin struggled to open his eyes. God, he was so tired and it took so much strength. Slowly, light replaced the darkness, and soon vision followed. At the foot of his bed stood his wife. Calvin wet his dry lips and spoke hoarsely, "Did... did you.... find him?"
"Yes dear," Susie said smiling sadly, "He was in the attic."
Susie reached into her big purse and brought out a soft, old, orange tiger doll. Calvin could not help but laugh. It had been so long. Too long.
"I washed him for you," Susie said, her voice cracking a little as she laid the stuffed tiger next to her husband.
"Thank you, Susie." Calvin said.
A few moments passed as Calvin just laid on his hospital bed, his head turned to the side, staring at the old toy with nostalgia.
"Dear," Calvin said finally. "Would you mind leaving me alone with Hobbes for a while? I would like to catch up with him."
"All right," Susie said. "I'll get something to eat in the cafeteria. I'll be back soon."
Susie kissed her huband on the forehead and turned to leave. With sudden but gentle strength Calvin stopped her. Lovingly he pulled his wife in and gave her a passionate kiss on the lips. "I love you," he said.
"And I love you," said Susie.
Susie turned and left. Calvin saw tears streaming from her face as she went out the door.
Calvin then turned to face his oldest and dearest friend. "Hello Hobbes. It's been a long time hasn't it old pal?"
Hobbes was no longer a stuffed doll but the big furry old tiger Calvin had always remembered. "It sure has, Calvin." said Hobbes.
"You... haven't changed a bit." Calvin smiled.
"You've changed a lot." Hobbes said sadly.
Calvin laughed, "Really? I haven't noticed at all."
There was a long pause. The sound of a clock ticking away the seconds rang throughout the sterile hospital room.
"So... you married Susie Derkins." Hobbes said, finally smiling. "I knew you always like her."
"Shut up!" Calvin said, his smile bigger than ever.
"Tell me everything I missed. I'd love to hear what you've been up to!" Hobbes said, excited.
And so Calvin told him everything. He told him about how he and Susie fell in love in high school and had married after graduating from college, about his three kids and four grandkids, how he turned Spaceman Spiff into one of the most popular sci-fi novels of the decade, and so on. After he told Hobbes all this there was another pregnant pause.
"You know... I visited you in the attic a bunch of times." Calvin said.
"I know."
"But I couldn't see you. All I saw was a stuffed animal." Calvin voice was breaking and tears of regret started welling up in his eyes.
"You grew up old buddy." said Hobbes.
Calvin broke down and sobbed, hugging his best friend. "I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry I broke my promise! I promised I wouldn't grow up and that we'd be together forever!!"
Hobbes stroke the Calvin's hair, or what little was left of it. "But you didn't."
"What do you mean?"
"We were always together... in our dreams."
"We were?"
"We were."
"Hobbes?"
"Yeah, old buddy?"
"I'm so glad I got to see you like this... one last time..."
"Me too, Calvin. Me too."
"Sweetheart?" Susie voice came from outside the door.
"Yes dear?" Calvin replied.
"Can I come in?" Susie asked.
"Just a minute."
Calvin turned to face Hobbes one last time. "Goodbye Hobbes. Thanks... for everything..."
"No, thank you Calvin." Hobbes said.
Calvin turned back to the door and said, "You can come in now."
Susie came in and said, "Look who's come to visit you."
Calvin's children and grandchildren followed Susie into Calvin's room. The youngest grandchild ran past the rest of them and hugged Calvin in a hard, excited hug. "Grandpa!!" screamed the child in delight.
"Francis!" cried Calvin's daughter, "Be gentle with your grandfather."
Calvin's daughter turned to her dad. "I'm sorry, Daddy. Francis never seems to behave these days. He just runs around making a mess and coming up with strange stories."
Calvin laughed and said, "Well now! That sound just like me when I was his age."
Calvin and his family chatted some more until a nurse said, "Sorry, but visiting hours are almost up."
Calvin's beloved family said good bye and promised to visit tommorrow. As they turned to leave Calvin said, "Francis. Come here for a second."
Francis came over to his grandfather's side, "What is it Gramps?"
Calvin reached over to the stuffed tiger on his bedside and and held him out shakily to his grandson, who looked exactly as he did so many years ago. "This is Hobbes. He was my best friend when I was your age. I want you to have him."
"He's just a stuffed tiger." Francis said, eyebrows raised.
Calvin laughed, "Well, let me tell you a secret."
Francis leaned closer to Clavin. Calvin whispered, "If you catch him in a tiger trap using a tuna sandwich as bait he will turn into a real tiger."
Francis gasped in delighted awe. Calvin continued, "Not only that he will be your best friend forever."
"Wow! Thanks grandpa!" Francis said, hugging his grandpa tightly again.
"Francis! We need to go now!" Calvin's daughter called.
"Okay!" Francis shouted back.
"Take good care of him." Calvin said.
"I will." Francis said before running off after the rest of the family.
Calvin laid on his back and stared at the ceiling. The time to go was close. He could feel it in his soul. Calvin tried to remember a quote he read in a book once. It said something about death being the next great adventure or something like that. He eyelids grew heavy and his breathing slowed. As he went deeper into his final sleep he heard Hobbes, as if he was right next to him at his bedside. "I'll take care of him, Calvin..."
Calvin took his first step toward one more adventure and breathed his last with a grin on his face.
Credit to Redditor samuraitiger19
His reply to the comments there 10 years ago
EDIT: Wow... just wow... I am speechless here guys. I did not expect such a reaction to my story or prompt. I am not worthy of your praise or your gold. I am truly humbled. Thanks so much! I'm truly glad so my story touched so many people.
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meraki-yao · 2 days
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Dropping in to say your crying at the vows Payneland was SUPERB! Is it too late for 🤬 Payneland? If so no stress at all! Your writing is awesome!
Hi! Oh my God, thank you so much! I'm glad you liked the last one! Thank you for the prompt and sorry for this being late!
🤬Argument with a family member
This is a human/alive AU by the way!
TW: Paul Rowland being a homophobic, abusive asshole, homophobic slurs
Charles freezes, his fiancé’s hand tightening on his arm. Standing in front of their wedding venue entrance, arguing with the security, is his father who he hasn’t seen in years. After struggling through university on his own and meeting Edwin Payne, he took off and ran far away from home, cutting all contact with his parents while building a new home with the love of his life. A few years down the line, he and Edwin created a cipher to communicate with his mother. But throughout all of this, they have deliberately steered clear of his father. His father, who beat him senseless; his father, who locked his lanky teenage self in the basement that he lived in since he was five; his father, who nearly ripped his pierce off his ear, calling him homophobic slur years before he came to terms with his bisexuality. After Charles confessed his trauma after a particularly violent nightmare, Edwin had held him and promised that he would never let Paul Rowland near him ever again. Charles had gripped his boyfriend’s waist and promised the same: he cannot ever let his father lay a hand on sweet, gentle, loving Edwin. But he’s here now, at their rehearsal dinner, and he can’t help but freeze at the sight. Why? How? What is he doing here? How did he find him out after so long? What do I do now? Charles’ eyes meet his dad’s and the next thing he knows, Paul Rowland is pushing the security guard to the ground and comes marching their way, the rage on his face horrifyingly familiar. He has to move, he has to leave, he has to protect Edwin— But he can’t move. He’s frozen in place, legs turned to jelly. He wants to scream and cry but only quick puffs of breaths come out. Just before his dad can shout a curse at them, Edwin suddenly steps forward, pushing Charles behind him. “Excuse me, sir.” He says eerily calmly, which is a sign that he’s actually angry. “I don’t believe you’re invite to this function. You are trespassing right now, please kindly leave the premise before we have to call the authorities.” “Move out of the way, you fag. I’m here to talk to my son.” Paul Rowland growls, and Charles flinches, he wants to grab Edwin’s hand and run. “As you can clearly see, Charles does not want to talk to you. Now, leave.” Edwin continue, not phased by the slur. “CHARLES! YOU FUCKING USELESS PIECE OF SHIT, HIDING BEHIND A FAIRY?” The familiar roar rings in Charles’ ear. He can’t fucking breathe oh God oh fuck— BAM! Edwin, his sweet Edwin who has always gravitated to words, who he has tried to get into boxing without much success, punches his dad square in the jaw. Both Rowlands stare at him in shock. “YOU FUCKER! HOW DARE YOU—” “No, you listen here.” Edwin states, a dangerous edge in his voice. “We have given you multiple warnings. I will not allow you to come here, ruin our joyous occasion and do any harm to my fiancé, physical or otherwise. The police can deal with you now, we’re done here.” He lays a hand on Charles’ back, gentle despite the situation, and leads him away as the police who have finally arrived come and pull his dad away for questioning. They’ll need to provide their recount too, but Edwin insisted that they’ll deal with that later. They enter the dressing room of the venue where Charles collapses onto a chair. Edwin kneels before him, hand cupping his cheek, thumb swiping under his eyes. “Charles, please tell me what’s going on.” “No, it’s nothing, I’ll be fine I— Holy shit, Edwin, you punched my dad!” “Yes well, I very well couldn’t stand there and let him cause you even more distress, and he was clearly not going to listen to a word I say, sometimes actions do speak louder than words.” Charles pulls Edwin into his lap and wraps his arm around his waist, nose buried in his neck, breathing the familiar scent. Edwin’s hand goes to his curls as he presses kisses on to the top of his head. God, how lucky is he, to have such a wonderful person to call his? “We’ll be alright, my love,” Edwin whispers. “I promise, we’ll be alright.” Charles has never doubted him.
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amethystina · 6 months
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Hi, I hope you're doing better! I was wondering what your take would be on Yohan's reaction to Ga On if he slipped into a coma after a serious attack or something. Because obviously there would be some abyss shenanigans, but do you think he'd be split into wanting to hover and protect Ga On while he's asleep or just getting revenge? Which do you think he'd prioritise and what do you think he'd be thinking?
I also just wanted to let you know that I find your work amazing, especially Who Holds the Devil and The Gentle Light. You mention how you're worried about letting us down with it, but I think you forget how much you've already given. It's not that we're expecting something and that you could disappoint us, but it is what you do that makes us love it more. The way you think and write are incredible, as is your perspective on the characters and their interactions. Thank you so much for all your hard work and effort!
Oooooh! That's a really interesting question! I think my answer, at least when it comes to the finer nuances, would depend on a) when this happens (i.e. during or post canon), b) if they know who might be behind it (because during canon it would be easy to assume it's Jung Sun Ah or the like) and c) what their relationship is at the time (i.e. are they still just coworkers or are they in a romantic relationship).
But, in broad strokes, I think Yo Han would prioritise getting revenge. Not because he doesn't feel a need to hover — he definitely would — but because he's a pragmatic, efficient, and goal-oriented person down to his core. Meaning that as soon as it's established that Ga On is in a coma and that there's nothing Yo Han can do to help him, Yo Han will admit that his time is best spent elsewhere.
After making sure that Ga On has the best care money can buy and bodyguards to protect him, of course.
The thing about Yo Han is that he can look past his own emotions and focus on what needs to be done in a way — and on a level — that few are capable of. Which at times makes him look rather unsympathetic, sure, but is honestly one of the ways he shows concern. Like, to him, just sitting there waiting for Ga On to wake up would probably feel like an insult to Ga On and Yo Han's devotion to him. Yo Han's instincts would tell him to DO something about it instead but, since he's not a doctor, his presence in Ga On's hospital room makes no difference whatsoever. Which means he'd decide it's better for him to focus on trying to catch and punish those who hurt Ga On.
That's not to say that he also won't spend as much time as possible hovering — especially if they're in a romantic relationship. This also depends a little on where Elijah is, but I wouldn't put it past Yo Han to — after a long day of chasing the culprit — make a habit of sleeping in Ga On's hospital room instead of going back to the house. Because Yo Han HAS to sleep eventually and so he might as well do it where he has Ga On close by.
What little time he doesn't spend chasing leads and making plans, he'd spend with Ga On.
And yes, this definitely means Yo Han wouldn't really be taking all that good care of himself, neither physically nor mentally. Like, if this is post-canon and he and Ga On are in some kind of relationship? Just IMAGINE how lost Yo Han would feel. It's clear, even in the drama, that Ga On's presence reminds Yo Han to be kinder and gentler, not just to those around him but also himself. Ga On often mentions how much Yo Han grounds him in Who Holds the Devil, but he doesn't seem to realise that it's the same for Yo Han. The only difference is the way they need to be grounded and what behaviour that grounding is preventing.
And a post-canon, lovestruck Yo Han who suddenly finds himself without Ga On's gentleness and kindness to soothe and calm him?
Yeah, that won't go well.
Not in a way that Yo Han would necessarily care about, though. Or, maybe more accurately, he'd decide it's worth the sacrifice to find whoever hurt Ga On. Even if he, deep down, would know that, no, Ga On would NOT agree with that. Ga On wouldn't want him to put himself or his humanity at risk. But that's not the same as actually having Ga On there to tell him to stop.
Like, to be honest with you, I think Yo Han might even end up being extra reckless and violent because some part of him hopes that means Ga On will come back to him sooner. As if he can force Ga On to wake up simply by doing the thing he knows Ga On hates. Maybe he's even punishing Ga On a little?
"Look at what you made me do, Ga On-ah, when you're not here to stop me."
"If you don't wake up soon, I'll do something even worse."
"This is what happens when you leave me."
Which isn't reasonable (or healthy) by any means — especially for such a calm and collected person as Yo Han — but he's also a frightened, abused child who never got to develop his emotions and social skills in a good way.
He's never been in love before.
He'd be so scared.
And desperation makes us unreasonable, especially when we're afraid we might lose someone we love. He'd grasp for whatever stability he can, especially since his usual anchor isn't there anymore. He'd look fine on the outside but, on the inside, he'd be a mess. There would be fear and pain and anger and helplessness and sorrow and hope and longing. And he wouldn't really know how to deal with all of that since, at that point, he's probably gotten used to processing most of his feelings with Ga On's — knowing and unknowing — help.
Yo Han, like many children with his history, is very adept at regulating his own emotions, mainly because he had to as a survival tactic. He probably learned from a young age which ones he was allowed to show and all the other ones were suppressed until he was out of his father's reach. He's also good at reading a room since that, too, is necessary for survival in a violent household. Granted that Yo Han now mostly uses those skills to manipulate and intimidate people, but he is well aware of emotions, how to curb them, how to influence them, and how to use them to his advantage.
What he doesn't know is how to process them in a normal and healthy way. But, in the drama, we see him begin to test the waters when it comes to using Ga On as a sounding board. He says things, sees how Ga On reacts, and gets clues on how a more well-adjusted person would process that information. And I think that's something Yo Han would continue doing, bouncing his emotions off of Ga On to see what's actually a reasonable reaction.
But, more importantly, to get validation. To see, with his own eyes, that his fear, hurt, anger, pain etc. is valid. Ga On feels it too, just from hearing of Yo Han's trauma so, clearly, it mustn't be wrong for Yo Han to feel that, too. It doesn't make him weak. He's allowed to feel that way.
I think that Ga On would become Yo Han's emotional lodestar. Which I wouldn't call healthy, exactly, but what about their relationship is? x'D
ANYWAY. The delicious consequence of this is, of course, that Yo Han is left directionless and adrift, with no way to properly handle all the very intense emotions he's feeling. And that probably means that when Ga On finally wakes up again (be it weeks or months later) Yo Han will be in such a state that the moment Ga On hugs him, he'll break.
Or, well, as close to breaking as you can get when you're Kang Yo Han.
All the emotions will come rushing to the surface since his brain just recognised that the person who usually helps him deal with all of that is back and so now it's safe to let it out, right?
Yo Han vehemently disagrees, I'm sure, because he's got a reputation to uphold! And he can't just suddenly break down in his sugar baby's arms! Especially since said sugar baby just woke from a coma and is still weak! This is so inconvenient!
Unfortunately, he doesn't have much of a choice.
Sucks to be you, Yo Han.
But at least he has Ga On there to hold him, kiss him, and make it better?
SO YEAH. Something like that, I guess? I think Yo Han would be HELLA worried but is also too goal-oriented not to choose to focus on revenge. He'd probably become incredibly restless if he didn't.
Thank you so much for your kind words 💜 To be honest with you, I often forget what I've already written. Not literally (I remember it with surprising accuracy a lot of the time) but it's sometimes difficult to remember that I've already written 400k when I always have to focus on posting the next chapter and then the next chapter and then the next chapter. I rarely get the time to sit down and just revel in what I've already written? Especially since I want the story to continue just as much as the rest of you.
And while the majority of the comments are absolutely lovely, I do sometimes get ones demanding new chapters or ones questioning the choices I make in the story (especially the length). They're definitely in a minority so far, but that doesn't stop the fear that, sooner or later, they'll become the majority.
And, more than anything, I fear the moment when I'll write a bad chapter. I don't even know what would constitute a bad chapter or what I would have to do for it to become one, but I'm still afraid of it.
Which probably isn't reasonable, but since when are our anxiety brains reasonable?
So I try my best not to think about it, and receiving such kind messages as yours definitely helps. Thank you 💜 I'm so very glad to hear that you like my works, especially my takes on the characters since that is (perhaps not so surprisingly) something I put a lot of effort into and take a lot of pride in, too. I LOVE these characters and want to do them justice by writing them as best I can, even if that means the fic ends up being the behemoth it now is because they cannot move faster than a glacier x'D
So yeah. Thank you so, so much. Both for the fun question and the encouragement. It means a lot to me :)
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goldkirk · 8 months
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question: have any of you personally seen a dietician (not looking for experiences with nutritionists, only dieticians), and did you find it helpful or useful, and if you did see a dietician and you ALSO have seen a GI doctor, how did the experience compare for you in terms of helpfulness + how much you felt listened to and helped?
#i'm trying to figure out which doctor appointments I want to bother making and spending money about for potentially no return on investment#and right now i'm trying to figure out if I'd get way more practical help from a dietician or if I need to suck it up and find a#not-elderly not-male not-dismissive GI doctor first and THEN see a dietician#although I cannot afford a bunch of tests#so like???#trying to figure out if a dietician would be more helpful overall with me not HAVING any GI diagnoses or eating disorders#and just really struggling with food in both sensory ways and unpredictable digestion ways that don't correlate with food allergies#god i sometimes wish i had food allergies so i could have some predictability#but yeah. i'm leaning towards dietician but figured i should crowdsource experiences#since I know a lot of you have health issues you've also been trying to manage for years and probably have good advice#if it helps i'm also in a major city now and have a decent-but-not-great health insurance plan so I'm good on those two fronts#to do#health#I know a dietician can't diagnose anything but I'd love help figuring out how to get maximum nutrition even when i can barely eat anything#or when my body decides to start getting sick from or (tw emetophobia) puking up fiber or fatty foods#which thankfully isn't often#now that I do cannabis daily in microdosing I have so much less pain and bloating and nausea#but when it hits it HITS#and the last time I tried going without cannabis for a couple days and then eating a fiber muffin I was sick six times in one morning#and didn't get my normal eating ability back until dinnertime#luckily that's not normal for me#but my issues bounce up and down so much#and I lose weight so fast whenever my appetite goes from 'barely ever there' to 'negatively nonexistent'#and I had like. two months last year where I think i reached my body's natural healthy set weight#and i needed so much food but it felt so good energy wise and temperature wise#and i'd like to STAY THERE FFS#and I feel like a dietician would be helpful for making meal options for good#*good and hard and nuclear alert level eating difficulty times#anyway. crowdsourcing. yay!
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nolanhattrick · 1 year
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my dr was like "expect days 2-4 to be the worst for pain and fatigue" and i was like "okay" but in reality i wasn't actually in pain or exhausted until, like, saturday or sunday. like i'm sleeping 20 hours a day and this shit is starting to hurt, but only in the last 48 hours. so weird.
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inkskinned · 11 months
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it's hard to explain because inevitably you sound like an asshole, but some people are allowed to lose their temper, lose their mind - you're not, though.
when your friend never texts you first and misses your birthday and never makes an effort; you don't mind. you know she's struggling, and you want her to get the help that she deserves. you give her every excuse and every chance.
it shouldn't matter to you so much that people are always coming through for her. you want her to be happy, you love it for her. you love that her community rises up to the occasion. why does it bother you that when she snaps at someone, says horrible mean things - but two hours later, everyone is comforting her while she's crying. you know she's stressed. why do you kind of hate that she is welcomed back to her job, that her parents are endlessly wiring her money.
and you're - fuck, are you envious?
but when you don't text back, someone sits you down and says i know you're struggling, but you're being a bad friend. when you're too numb to show up for work, your boss just shakes his head. i'm sorry. i can't approve more time off. we have the company to protect. when you finally snap back at your family for making that shitty comment again, you're forced to apologize for being too sensitive.
god forbid you need something. people aren't used to you being the one asking. you're the giver like the book you hated; your pages all open and rumpled. you always have the answer, always have the solution. you are reliable, trustworthy. people like you don't struggle with things. you're supposed to be lifted by tragedy. you are given a maximum of 24 hours to grieve, and then you need to just behave at the party.
you can't read the giving tree without feeling like crying, and even that feels like it's too much emotion. like, nobody looks at you and assumes you're the tree; they'd name five other people before even considering you in the running. you're just there, never-asking.
your friend gets to say mean shit, that's just her personality. when you make a snide comment, you're just being petty. people laugh when your friend stands you up for another event; they say she's just like that. you were 5 minutes late to a meeting with friends and they were mad about it for the rest of the evening. your friend sets everything on fire; everyone applauds her through the ashes. you so much as light a candle: and suddenly now you're an arsonist.
you don't want your friend to suffer, though. the thing is that you just wish that the empathy and kindness your friend gets - you wish you had that option, that everyone offered you grace and money and a gentle reception.
the other day you were fighting down the bad urge; the void call, the end note. you tried-anyway. you went to the family event, tried laughing at the right moments. nodded and smiled and all of it. one of your siblings threw a fit, but she's allowed to, so everyone just rolled their eyes about it. you took 3 whole minutes to stand outside when you got overwhelmed. you literally set a timer about it.
in the morning you woke up to a text from your parents: you were a complete disgrace last night. idk what your attitude problem is, but you really need to fix it.
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heejake-hoon · 2 months
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Sunghoon waking up to you sucking him off(mdni)
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Ask: I love love love your writing! Im not sure if you've done one where you pay sunghoon back for helping you sleep by waking him up with a Bj? if not, could I possibly request it 🥹
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You wake up slowly, the morning sun filtering through the curtains and casting a warm glow over the bedroom. Stretching languidly, you turn your head to see Sunghoon still asleep beside you, his handsome face relaxed and peaceful in slumber.
A fond smile curves your lips as memories of last night flood your mind - the way he'd touched you, tasted you, worshipped your body with his mouth and hands until you were a trembling, pleading mess beneath him. He always takes such good care of you, always seems to know exactly what you need.
And right now, seeing him like this, all tousled hair and bare skin, you know exactly what you need. Or rather, what you want to give him.
Carefully, so as not to wake him just yet, you slip out of bed and pad naked to the bathroom. After brushing your teeth and freshening up a bit, you return to the bedroom, a mischievous smile playing about your lips as you crawl back onto the mattress.
Sunghoon is still dead to the world, lying on his back with one arm thrown above his head, the sheets tangled low around his hips. Your gaze drags appreciatively over his body, from the strong line of his jaw down the elegant column of his throat, over the defined ridges of his chest and abs.
God, he's so beautiful it almost hurts to look at him sometimes. And he's all yours.
Settling between his spread thighs, you lean down and press a soft, open-mouthed kiss to his sternum, right over his steadily beating heart. Sunghoon stirs slightly but doesn't wake, so you continue your path downward, trailing your lips over his sleep-warm skin as your hands smooth up his sides.
When you reach his navel, you dip your tongue inside teasingly before continuing lower, nuzzling into the thin trail of hair leading down from his belly button. Sunghoon shifts again, a low sound rumbling in his chest, and you know he's starting to wake up.
Smiling to yourself, you mouth at his hip bone, sucking lightly as your hand wraps around his half-hard cock, giving him a slow, teasing stroke. That gets a reaction, Sunghoon's hips twitching up into your touch as a breathy moan escapes him.
"Y/N…" he mumbles, voice rough with sleep and arousal as his eyes flutter open to peer down at you hazily.
"Good morning," you purr, licking a stripe up the underside of his cock before swirling your tongue around the tip, gathering the bead of precum that's already leaked out. "Sleep well?"
"Fuck," Sunghoon groans, head thumping back against the pillow as you take him into your mouth properly, sinking down until he hits the back of your throat. "Y-yeah, I slept- oh god- slept fine. What are you…?"
You pull off with an obscene pop, grinning up at him impishly. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm returning the favor from last night."
And with that, you dive back in, taking him as deep as you can and hollowing your cheeks as you start to bob your head, setting a slow, torturous rhythm. Sunghoon's hands fly to your hair, fingers tangling in the silky strands as he fights the urge to thrust up into the wet heat of your mouth.
You can feel him hardening further against your tongue, growing hotter and heavier with every pass of your lips. His low breathy moans and gasps are music to your ears, spurring you on as you take him deeper, relaxing your throat to accommodate his considerable size.
"Baby, fuck, your mouth," Sunghoon pants, abs flexing as he struggles to keep still. "Feels so fucking good, god, look at you. Taking me so well, shit-"
Pride and arousal swirl through you at his praise, at the knowledge that you can reduce him to a babbling mess with just your mouth. Doubling your efforts, you start to stroke what you can't fit, twisting your wrist and flicking your tongue just the way he likes.
Sunghoon's grip on your hair tightens, a strangled groan tearing from his throat as his hips start to pump shallowly, unable to hold back any longer. You moan around him, the vibrations making his cock twitch against your tongue, and you know he's getting close.
Pulling back until just the tip rests on your tongue, you look up at him from under your lashes, holding his blown-black gaze as you start to stroke him faster, tongue swirling around the head on every upstroke.
"Come on, baby," you murmur, voice low and sultry, lips brushing over his sensitive skin with every word. "Come for me. Wanna taste you, want you to fill my mouth, c'mon Sunghoon, give it to me-"
"Fuck, I'm gonna-" Sunghoon cuts himself off with a guttural moan, his whole body going taut as his orgasm crashes over him. You work him through it, stroking and sucking and swallowing around him until he's spent, until he's pushing weakly at your shoulder because it's too much.
Pulling off, you lick your lips and crawl up his body, settling on his chest and grinning down at him smugly. Sunghoon huffs a low breathless laugh, hands coming up to rest on your hips as he shakes his head at you in amused disbelief.
"You," he says, voice still a little shaky, "are perfect for me baby."
You hum at the feeling of his hands massaging your scalp before leaning down to kiss him slow and deep. Sunghoon kisses you back lazily, licking into your mouth like he's trying to chase his own taste on your tongue.
When you finally pull back, he's looking up at you with so much tenderness, so much adoration, it makes your heart squeeze almost painfully in your chest. Cupping your face in his big hands, he strokes his thumbs over your cheekbones, touch impossibly gentle.
"I love you," he murmurs, eyes soft and warm as they search yours. "So fucking much, you have no idea."
-
A.N: I should learn how to end these drabbles, m so bad at aftercare so ignore the ending. And thanks to the annonie who sent this ask, hope you enjoy it 😊🧡🧡🧡
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seventeenpins · 2 months
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nightly
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader word count: 1k summary: Joel is a mistake you just keep making. content/warnings: no specified Joel era so take your pick, dirty talk, literally all just smut, big dick, daddy kink, breeding kink, dubcon undertones, Joel is an asshole a/n: I have been struggling to focus on writing for a minute now, but the horny gods smiled upon me and let me get this together. Praise be to @ozarkthedog for always letting me run my godforsaken ideas past you. Love you lots 💕
You can feel the wet spot on the bed against your back. Joel has you folded like a pretzel, backs of your knees resting on his sun-freckled shoulders, wrists pinned above your head and ass suspended in the air as he drills into you. A single curl bounces at his temple, separate from the rest of his hair that's plastered with sweat to his forehead.
If you make the same mistake five days in a row, can you really still call it a mistake?
He's far too old for you, and a little too mean for you, but damned if he isn't the best lay you've ever had.
Eight inches, uncut, a dick so fucking fat you can barely wrap your hand around it. You can hardly believe he's buried balls deep in you right now. That your body can even take it.
"C'mon, honey, that's it-" Joel's voice is a growl, punctuated by heavy panting, "This pretty lil gash is fuckin' droolin' baby, my own personal slip 'n slide-"
"You're a crass old man," you whine.
"I sure am, honey," he agrees with a grin, "But don't think I can't feel the way you soak me whenever I talk crass, sweetheart."
"I hate you."
He laughs, and a bead of sweat rolls down his temple and along the curve of his nose, splashing onto your cheek. Unthinkingly, you dart your tongue out to catch some of the sweat. Joel's grin turns to a smirk.
"Hate me all you like. You're the one who's come over every night this fuckin' week. Monday through Friday, baby. Hate me so much you can't get enough of daddy's big dick, huh?"
"Fuck you, you're such an asshole-"
This jab is even less effective, punctuated with a moan and a whimper.
"Sure, sweetheart, I am. But don't pretend like we don't both know--you don't have to come here at all."
He grinds against you, coarse hair rubbing against your mound as if to further his point. Pressure hits your clit just right and it's bliss. You have to fully restrain yourself to stop from howling, and even then, you let out a ragged moan.
Joel clamps a hand over your mouth and looks you dead in the eyes.
"I love those pretty sounds, baby, but remember I got neighbors? Thought you said you'd die before anyone finds out about us."
You try to roll your eyes, but he thrusts again and you're caught in another moan. The glide of his body against your clit, especially when he's stretching you out so exquisitely? It's overwhelming. You try to stay quiet, you really do.
It's not your fault though, not when Joel's fucking you silly.
Now, though, he's frustrated.
"Quiet now, settle-"
"I'm not a fucking dog, Joel, I- ahhh-" you mumble and moan between his fingers, barely muffled at all.
"Oh really? Not a fucking dog? Wanna tell me then why you're tryna get bred like a bitch in heat?"
He smacks your cheek, drawing out another pathetic whine that only seems to cement his point.
He sneers. "Those pretty lil noises you're makin' for me? That don't sound like a good girl. That sounds to me like a nasty fuckin' slut who can't help but keep her legs spread so her daddy can fill her up good. Huh? C'mon baby. Tell me to cum inside."
"Fuck you Joel."
Suddenly, cruelly, he stops. Ceases any movement. Relaxes the grip on your wrists.
Panic overtakes you.
"What the fuck-?"
"Sorry sweetheart," he shakes his head, "You don't want this? You can see yourself out."
"No, I-"
You notice he's still sheathed inside you. You feel him do something, flexing his dick inside of you. Frankly, it's cheating.
"Please don't stop."
"What was that, honey?"
"Joooeeel-"
"Quit your whinin', use your words."
"Please fuck me."
"That ain't it, you know whatcha gotta say."
He starts rocking his hips gently, a slippery glide. It's not enough to stimulate. Just enough to make you want more. Need more.
The way you clench around him tells on yourself more starkly than your words ever could.
He's grinning again. "That's it, baby. You ready to admit what you need?"
"Come on, Joel."
"Cum where?"
You sigh. But you know you aren't gonna hold out any longer. He's pressing his thumb just above your clit and the glide of the motion is so fucking delicious it's hard not to buck against it.
Rut against it.
A bitch in heat.
"Fuck me, daddy-" you whine.
"You sound real pretty beggin'. Nearly got it honey. One more try?"
"Cum inside me."
"Mmmmm-" Joel groans, and the grip on your wrists tightens again. "Music to my ears, honey. Tell me where you want it?"
"Inside me, cum inside-"
"You want me to cum inside this lovely lil' pussy?"
"Please Joel-"
"That right?"
"Please cum in me, fill me up, fuck it deep-"
With that, his composure breaks and any restraint he had crumbles. Folds you deeper, fucks you deeper, pins you down and jackhammers into you.
You couldn't move, even if you wanted to, and that knowledge somehow heightens everything. It's blindingly bright, dizzyingly addictive. You barely notice the way Joel's lavishing you with praise, each deep thrust punctuated with good girl, good girl, good fucking girl-
When you cum, you feel the way his balls tighten as if in response, tipping over the edge mere moments after you. It could be romantic, finding yourselves cumming together, if there was any romance between you.
As you start to fade back down, you're able to pay attention again.
"That's it," he's praising you, and you realise his cock is still pulsing. You make to start moving, but he growls and holds you still. "That's right, sweetheart. Gotta let me fill you all the way up. Gonna make sure it takes."
Clarity starts to overtake you and you know that you've made a big fucking mistake. By the time you've come back to yourself, though, your pussy's flooded and pulsing oh so nicely, and Joel's pulling out of you. He moves into the other room and you hear him turn on the shower.
"You can let yourself out," he calls to you. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Your panties are sticky the whole way home.
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munsster · 2 months
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sharing a bed (trope bingo)
A/N: i could melt (pun not intended. you’ll see) this trope is literally my fav, all my fics would be about it if i could… (gif creds: @bubbarnes)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader
Summary: You're cold, Bucky's a living heater. Need I say more? 1.2k words
Warnings: fluff, fluff, more fluff, sharing a bed, cuddling, nervous/borderline horny Bucky, pet names (doll, sweetheart)
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You should have made this decision before your fingertips went numb. November in a northern motel room found you freezing. In basketball shorts and a crewneck, no less. You should have been in California by now, but Bucky has been dragging his feet since Maine. Though, he does drive more than half the time, so it's a sacrifice you had been willing to take.
There's no snow on the ground, but you can feel the beginnings of it on the damp pavement. Your socks are soaked through, and you cringe making a mental note to burn them. You cross your arms over your chest and tuck your fingers under your armpits, jaw clacking as you shiver. The heater in your room scuttled hurriedly to a wheezing stop five minutes after whacking it alive.
Now you're shifting from left to right outside Bucky's door with your blood about to run purple. He hollered something through the door when you knocked the second time. It was either a it's unlocked or a don't come in and you don't trust your hearing enough to distinguish between the two at midnight.
"Bucky," you whine, resting your forehead just below the peephole and trying to shake the low beating sound from your ears. You lift your head. Footsteps then a rattling chain, and he whips the door open.
"Why are you up?"
"What?" How could he be annoyed right now when you're freezing your ass off and you can practically feel the heat rolling out of his room in waves. "I'm cold."
"Well... what am I supposed to do about that?"
You roll your eyes and glare up at him. You could swear he's doing it on purpose. You could swear he's making mental bets just to play with you. Right now he's betting all his cash on who'll crack first. His bet's on you. It always is.
"James, I swear to fucking God—I will walk back to Brooklyn if you don't—"
"Jesus, don't have an aneurism, doll. Come in," he mumbles. You follow him into the little square motel room: one bed, one table, half a bathroom. Plus a TV that only plays soaps and, half the time, crackles with static. The door shuts, and you sigh. You're swaddled by heat; the blood gushes back into the tip of your nose. You can feel your joints again.
"Take this." He tosses a coat at you. At you. It's heavy and green and thick. It's army grade. "Put it on." So you put it on and zip it up. He chuckles at the sight of you because the jacket is massive: down to your knees, quarter-foot past your fingertips. It dwarfs you. It's incredible.
"I feel like a gym teacher."
"What?"
"It's a... mm… nevermind," you hum, "'M tired." Your eyes sink shut, and he watches you from the bed, entertained by your sleep-standing act. For a second, he thinks you're actually gonna fall asleep like that. But then your eyes snap wide open and he looks away.
Bucky shuffles under the sheets, and you watch him curiously through the window of the coat's hood. You suppose you'd missed the fact that he's wearing only boxers, completely shirtless with his cropped hair messily flared around his head. You start to sweat.
He looks up when you whine. "What now?"
"... It's hot."
"You're killin' me, doll."
"I know, I'm sorry," you huff, hands fiddling the flannel insides of the hot jacket sleeves. He watches you struggle to glance at the floor and becomes flush with pity for you. He sighs.
"Alright, hon, take that off and c'mere. We'll get you warm, hmm? Come here."
You flail your arm before latching onto the metal zipper tab and tugging it down with a hissing bzzzz. Bucky watches you relax and let the coat slump to the floor before you peel your socks off and toss them in the small metal trashcan by the door. You pad your way to the empty side of the bed and pat the moth-eaten comforter a few times, smoothing your hand over the soft cotton.
"Don't be shy now. I probably won't bite," he teases.
"You piss me off, Barnes."
"Oh, feel free to freeze your ass off in your room, sweetheart. I'm doin' you a favor."
You harrumph and swing your legs onto the mattress, sliding yourself under the sheets and tucking the blankets under your chin. You face the door, and Bucky settles in beside you, leaving a comfortable six inches of space between you. He faces the wall.
"Night, Bucky."
"Goodnight."
You’re not sure when you fell asleep, and you don't know when Bucky got so close. Or when you turned around. What you do know is that Bucky runs red hot in the middle of the night. Or maybe all the time, but you've never been skin-to-skin in the day. Hell could freeze over and Bucky would still be an inferno.
Sometime between two and three, you tossed around and ended up facing him as he crept closer unconsciously. His hands felt empty in dreams about dancing, so he reached into the darkness and tucked his fingers into the crooks of your knees to draw you into his warm body. On instinct—and because you're still in need of thawing—you curl into him and let your heart beat comfortably alongside his.
Bucky's a talker. He's a vocal sleeper. Good thing his deal was talking. Becca got saddled with sleep walking, and he remembers Ma asking him to install an extra lock high up to keep her from wandering out at twilight. Again. They'd found her mumbling at a brick wall half a block away one night and decided it was for the best.
Now he's rambling on about goats, describing their rough coats as he nuzzles into your navel. His palm spread over your back, he keeps you close, taut to every bit of his body, your leg draped over his waist.
He moans. Loud. And you shift in your sleep, fingers moving to cup the back of his head, brushing through his soft hair. His scalp is hot, and you sigh lazily as you melt further into his tight skin and smooth muscle. If either of you had woken up, it would've been a bloodbath. But for now, it's peaceful, and a dove coos from a lamppost outside.
A couple of times, you open your eyes but find yourself so disoriented, you can't bother to assume it's anymore than a dream and pass out again. At the crack of dawn, Bucky's lashes flutter open, and each of his veins flows with new life and the rising sun. It takes a second for him to realize he's breathing in the warmth of your skin. And he doesn't hate it.
He falls back asleep.
In the morning, you're both too busy adjusting to central standard time to register that you'd been pressed up close and personal all night. Too busy to acknowledge the comfort you both found in each others arms. And hands.
Over breakfast at the twenty-four-hour diner, he smiles meekly, and you blink down at your short stack like nothing happened. Like nothing ever will.
marvel masterlist
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lemonlover1110 · 7 months
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𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘 𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐔𝐄𝐒
Toji Fushiguro
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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader
Summary: Toji's girlfriend can be a brat but he punishes her for it (he forgets about the punishing halfway through)
Warnings: Smut, Age Gap (Reader in 20s, Toji 40s), Daddy Kink, Praising, Degrading, Face Fucking, Titjob, Spitting, Cum Eating, Double Penetration, Sex Toys, Vaginal Sex, Anal Sex, Spanking, Creampie
*This is a repost LMAO here's the original one (I'm the author to both so don't come into my inbox bc you didn't look) anyway. I did tell my readers I would repost certain works for a reason❤️
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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Toji simply adores when his girlfriend misbehaves. He acts as if he doesn’t and acts embarrassed when she’s suddenly a brat in front of all of his friends, but of course he won’t praise her for it. He punishes her for it, and God, does he love punishing her for it.
“You need to learn how to watch your mouth.” Toji tells you, nearly ripping the dress off you. You act clueless, batting your eyelashes as the very expensive dress is thrown somewhere else in the room. You take a seat on the edge of the bed as his hand goes under your chin and he tilts your head up. He doesn’t know what he wants to do with you. Or he does know, yet he doesn’t know how to start.
One hand begins to unbuckle his belt while the other squeezes your face. He looks into your eyes, you’re trying to look innocent but he can read right through it. He takes off the belt and ends up tossing it to the side before his hand unbutton his pants. “What will I do with you?”
He stops squeezing your face and takes off his pants along with his boxers. His hand goes to his cock and he strokes it slowly, deciding what he’ll do first. Before he orders, “Open your mouth, nice and wide for me.”
You shake your head until Toji furrows his eyebrows. He orders it once again, much meaner, “I told you to open your fucking mouth.”
You end up opening your mouth, and he pushes your head on his cock. Every inch that you can take of his cock goes into your mouth. You’re gagging, not being able to take it all. Drool falls down from your mouth to your chin, tears welling up in your eyes. You love it.
And you love it even more when he begins to move his hips, his hands gripping your hair. You look up at him with the eyes he loves to watch. He can tell that you’re loving this. You’re such a brat on purpose so he ends up doing this. “I hate how such a filthy mouth feels so good.”
He’s groaning, shutting his eyes as he lets himself loose. Your mouth feels so perfect around him, and the sound of your gagging is like music to his ears.
He looks down at you, seeing the tears stream down your face. It brings him satisfaction, and he knows that you’re satisfied as well. Otherwise you wouldn’t have been such a brat in front of his friends. They already criticize him for dating a woman nearly twenty years younger than him, it doesn’t get better when you act like such a brat. 
His balls slap against your chin with his every move. His hips get faster as his release gets closer and closer. Watching as you struggle and hearing your gagging encourages him to go faster. It’s such a turn on for him– Everything you do is such a turn on for him.
“I love your fucking mouth. So fucking good.” He tells you, his thrusts getting sloppy. With a few more thrusts, his cum hits the back of your throat. He finally pulls your head back, and you gasp. The mascara is running down your face, and he finds you more beautiful than ever. Even with some cum and drool falling from your lips.
“What am I going to do with you now?” Toji questions as you reach behind and unhook your bra. He’s still hard.
“Whatever you want, daddy.” You answer, standing up. He gets an idea as you take off your bra. He takes a seat on the bed, and his hands go to your back and he pulls you closer to him. His hands go to your breasts, his mouth wrapping around one of your nipples while his hand plays with the other.
“Fuck me with your tits.” He says when he pulls away. You smile at him before getting on your knees. Your hand wraps around his cock and you spit on it a couple of times before you bring your breasts together and put his cock in the middle.
“Is this what you want, daddy?” You ask him, a smug look on your face. You begin to move your breasts, and Toji bites down on his lip so he isn’t louder than he has to be. He watches your pretty little face, and he holds back from giving you that satisfaction of hearing his moans. He let them out while fucking your mouth, but then he was doing all the work, you just had your mouth open. 
“What a good slut.” He ends up praising, feeling your cleavage move up and down his cock. He grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls your head back. You stop moving your breasts for a moment while Toji orders, “Open your mouth.”
You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, allowing him to spit in your mouth. When he’s done what he wanted, he lets go of your hair and you go back to moving your breasts. Toji now lets himself moan into the air while you ask, “You like it, daddy?”
“You’re doing such a good job.” He praises. Your head goes down, your tongue licking the tip of his cock. He’s going to come at any moment. He’s moaning, getting louder and louder with each movement of your cleavage and tongue. “Make me come like a good girl.”
“Gonna make you come, daddy.” Your tongue stops licking his cock, and you look back at him. He looks at your pretty little face, your makeup all ruined because of him and he smirks. He has to close his eyes, yet another release overtaking him.
“Fuck–” He groans, releasing his seed all over your tits. You smile at him, as his cum coats your tits. One finger drags on his cum and you bring it up to your lips. You begin to spread the cum on your nipples. You stand up and your head goes down while you bring your tits up to your lips, licking his cum off.
He watches you lick his cum off your nipples and he swears he could burst all over again. He sits quietly for a moment before he stands up. He unbuttons his shirt and ends up taking it off.
“Get on the bed.” He orders and you do as he says. You sit down on the bed while Toji goes to your nightstand. He opens the first drawer and he pulls out what he needs before walking back to you. “On your stomach, ass in the air.”
You take off your panties before getting on all fours on the bed. You arch your back and wait for Toji to do something with the dildo he pulled out of your nightstand. He pours cold lube on your ass and then on the toy.
“You want me to stick this toy up your ass, baby? Will you take it like a good girl?” He questions, smacking your ass cheek with the toy he holds.
“Yes, daddy.” You respond, making Toji smack your ass with the toy again. He teases your asshole with the dildo for a bit before he begins to push it in. A gasp leaves your lips as the toy fills up your ass. Toji chuckles at your reaction, still pushing it in until he can’t push it in more.
His hand begins to move the toy, and you begin to moan in pleasure. It always takes you a moment to adjust, but you fucking love getting your ass fucked. The toy feels nice, but you like it more when it’s Toji is the one inside of you. 
“You like that, baby?” He asks and you hum in response. The moans that leave your lips are more than a good enough answer. He’s still going to ask. 
He smacks your ass while he moves the toy faster, “It’s so good, daddy.”
“Oh yeah, baby? How would you like me to put my dick in your pussy too?” He questions, one hand reaching to grab one of your hands to bring it back, “Fuck your ass, baby. Be a good girl and fuck your ass.”
You begin to move the toy, much slower than he was, while the tip of his cock runs through your folds. He pushes his cock into your cunt, and he doesn’t waste any time. Every inch is pushed into your cunt and he begins to rapidly move. One thing about you that he loves is that you never complain.
“What a good girl. Taking it all with no problem.” He praises you. He’s hissing at the feeling of your cunt wrapped around him, and the sigh of you fucking yourself in the ass certainly adds to the pleasure. His eyes are practically rolling to the back of his head as he moves in and out of you.
“Your tight little pussy is so good, fucking love it.” He smacks your ass again. He wishes he could look at your face while you’re taking it all. Your eyes are probably rolling to the back of your head as he fucks you and that toy moves in and out of you.
One hand goes to your hip while the other grabs your toy and he begins to move it in and out of you again. You feel so good with Toji and the toy. You feel your orgasm approach as both his cock and the toy hit all the right spots. You’re moaning his name uncontrollably as you feel your climax approach.
He’s moaning as he feels your cunt tighten around him. The sound of skin smacking and your moans that get louder and louder are very preeminent in the room. “I’m gonna come, Toji.”
“Come all over my cock like a good girl.” Toji says. You loudly moan his name, your body spasming as you come on his cock. He takes the toy out of your ass and both his hands go to your hips, gripping hard enough to leave bruises. He’s chasing after his third release for the night. “Taking it like a good girl, so proud of you.”
Now he’s the one moaning your name, in disbelief at how good your cunt is making him feel. God, everything about you is just so perfect. He comes to a stop and his cum fills you up. He doesn’t pull out until he makes sure every drop is in your cunt.
When he pulls out he warns, “Next time I won’t be so nice.”
“Sorry, daddy.”
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evilminji · 4 months
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O.O!!! :Dc wait a second.... Aquaman >.>
Good JOB Brain! That IS a good idea!
Don't know if YOU GUYS all know this? But Arthur? Son of a Lighthouse keeper and the Queen of Atlantis? THAT Arthur Curry aka. Orin? Has CONSIDERABLY enhanced durability. Like... *hit by a car* "ha. Cute." Enhanced.
It's because of the DEEP Sea water pressure he's built for.
I bring this up? Because the man is a legit BAMF. Absolutely TERRIFYING near any body of water. Dude has SUPER STRENGTH AND HYDROKINESIS. Not ONLY are YOU filled with water, but every street corner in the world has pipes! He is NEVER not armed.
That's not including the "yes I can ask a lobster to take your dick off" thing.
But most of all? He has the RAGE. The lifetime of injustice after injustice. His home under attack, his people suffering and regarded as LESS. The poison dumped into their air. Their lands taken, PRESUMED the property of land dwellers.
Treated as criminals and monsters should they DARE defend themselves.
Yet? He is a leader. A husband, father, mentor. The death of his child can not take from him that title. Nor years numb that pain. He strives to be good. Be wise. Live well.
Yet? There is once AGAIN fuckery in his ocean. Some "secret" lab. Poking at a swirling green portal. At the BOTTOM OF THE SEA. For God's sake, they DO REALIZE, you can't HIDE things from him down here, RIGHT?
It looks radioactive.
He refuses to have that so close to Atlantis.
Sends a notice up to the Watchtower, a call back to his Wife, and leads the gaurd team in. Painfully easy, really. Bog standard humans, caught off gaurd. Right until one of them does something... stupid.
He tries to blow the place. Destroy evidence. It would kill all of them. Which is not Arthur's main concern. No, what IS? Is that it would dump radioactive SOMETHING into the waters near Atlantis.
He dives forward. They struggle. A button is smashed and...
Their containment field drops.
They had been keeping it in a perfect vacuum.
Arthur is sucked in.
Watches, in free fall, as his men's faces turn to horror. As they desperately dive to follow him. Loyal. True. But ultimately too late. He curses himself as he loses sit of them. But forces himself to focus, twist, get his feet under him. His is in air, above LAND.
He hits HARD.
But not the ground like he had planned.
He's slamed, at an awkward, frantic, angle and knocked off course. His weight crashing down onto a scrawny slip of a boy, who weezes and struggles to get a proper grip. His arms not quite long enough to go all the way around his barrel of a chest.
He helps, by slinging an arm over his young savior.
Only then, does he notice, the tiny crown of ice and nebula, poking at a jaunty angle from the child's head.
Their landing would be rough, had Arthur not caught them, once he gets close enough to the ground. The young royal gasping for air, having clearly pushed his limits to get to Arthur in time. He hauls himself up. Not yet a man, but not as young as Arthur feared. His eyes glow.
"Hoooly SHIT. Are you okay?! I hit you really hard! I'm so, SO sorry! I panicked! And-"
Honestly? A little bruised. But nothings he's going to ADMIT too.
More concerning? The injuries.
There's a screech of tires turning sharp corners. Sirens getting closer. The young king whips around. Terror seeping onto his face. It gives Arthur an unobstructed view of pointed ears, softly glowing skin with star like freckles, and scars that creep up the child's neck. He does not like the picture being painted.
"We have to GO. Now. Please, I'll explain in a moment! But we have to go NOW!"
Really, REALLY does not like the picture. And he has WAYS of dealing with such things as this. But safety first. Prioritize the children. They go. He vows to get answers. And all around Amity? Certain individuals days are NUMBERED.
@babbling-babull @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @hypewinter @mutable-manifestation @lolottes @nerdpoe
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burntoutdaydreamer · 11 months
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Weird Brain Hacks That Help Me Write
I'm a consistently inconsistent writer/aspiring novelist, member of the burnt-out-gifted-kid-to-adult-ADHD-diagnosis-pipeline, recently unemployed overachiever, and person who's sick of hearing the conventional neurotypical advice to dealing with writer's block (i.e. "write every single day," or "there's no such thing as writer's block- if you're struggling to write, just write" Like F*CK THAT. Thank you, Brenda, why don't you go and tell someone with diabetes to just start producing more insulin?)
I've yet to get to a point in my life where I'm able to consistently write at the pace I want to, but I've come a long way from where I was a few years ago. In the past five years I've written two drafts of a 130,000 word fantasy novel (currently working on the third) and I'm about 50,000 words in on the sequel. I've hit a bit of a snag recently, but now that I've suddenly got a lot of time on my hands, I'm hoping to revamp things and return to the basics that have gotten me to this point and I thought I might share.
1) My first draft stays between me and God
I find that I and a lot of other writers unfortunately have gotten it into our heads that first drafts are supposed to resemble the finished product and that revisions are only for fixing minor mistakes. Therefore, if our first draft sucks that must mean we suck as writers and having to rewrite things from scratch means that means our first draft is a failure.
I'm here to say that is one of the most detrimental mentalities you can have as a writer.
Ever try drawing a circle? You know how when you try to free-hand draw a perfect circle in one go, it never turns out right? Whereas if you scribble, say, ten circles on top of one another really quickly and then erase the messy lines until it looks like you drew a circle with a singular line, it ends up looking pretty decent?
Yeah. That's what the drafting process is.
Your first draft is supposed to suck. I don't care who you are, but you're never going to write a perfect first draft, especially if you're inexperienced. The purpose of the first draft is to lay down a semi-workable foundation. A really loose, messy sketch if you will. Get it all down on paper, even if it turns out to be the most cliche, cringe-inducing writing you've ever done. You can work out those kinks in the later drafts. The hardest part of the first draft is the most crucial part: getting started. Don't stress yourself out and make it even harder than it already is.
If that means making a promise to yourself that no one other than you will ever read your first draft unless it's over your cold, dead body, so be it.
2) Tell perfectionism to screw off by writing with a pen
I used to exclusively write with pencil until I realized I was spending more time erasing instead of writing.
Writing with a pen keeps me from editing while I right. Like, sometimes I'll have to cross something out or make notes in the margins, but unlike erasing and rewriting, this leaves the page looking like a disaster zone and that's a good thing.
If my writing looks like a complete mess on paper, that helps me move past the perfectionist paralysis and just focus on getting words down on the page. Somehow seeing a page full of chicken scratch makes me less worried about making my writing all perfect and pretty- and that helps me get on with my main goal of fleshing out ideas and getting words on a page.
3) It's okay to leave things blank when you can't think of the right word
My writing, especially my first draft, is often filled with ___ and .... and (insert name here) and red text that reads like stage directions because I can't think of what is supposed to go there or the correct way to write it.
I found it helps to treat my writing like I do multiple choice tests. Can't think of the right answer? Just skip it. Circle it, come back to it later, but don't let one tricky question stall you to the point where you run out of brain power or run out of time to answer the other questions.
If I'm on a role, I'm not gonna waste it by trying to remember that exact word that I need or figure out the right transition into the next scene or paragraph. I'm just going to leave it blank, mark to myself that I'll need to fix the problem later, and move on.
Trust me. This helps me sooooo much with staying on a roll.
4) Write Out of Order
This may not be for everyone, but it works wonders for me.
Sure, the story your writing may need to progress chronologically, but does that mean you need to write it chronologically? No. It just needs to be written.
I generally don't do this as much for editing, but for writing, so long as you're making progress, it doesn't matter if it's in the right order. Can't think of how to structure Chapter 2, but you have a pretty good idea of how your story's going to end? Write the ending then. You'll have to go back and write Chapter 2 eventually, but if you're feeling more motivated to write a completely different part of the book, who's to say you can't do that?
When I'm working on a project, I start off with a single document that I title "Scrap for (Project Title)" and then just write whatever comes to mind, in whatever order. Once I've gotten enough to work with, then I start outlining my plot and predicting how many chapters I'm going to need. Then, I create separate google docs for each individual chapter and work on them in whatever order I feel like, often leaving several partially complete as I jump from one to the other. Then, as each one gets finished, I copy and paste the chapter into the full manuscript document. This means that the official "draft" could have Chapters 1 and 9, but completely be missing Chapters 2-8, and that's fine. It's not like anyone will ever know once I finish it.
Sorry for the absurdly long post. Hopes this helps someone. Maybe I'll share more tricks in the future.
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prael · 14 days
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Spectacle
Kinktember Day 11: Cuckquean
IVE Wonyoung and Liz x male reader smut
words: 6,118 Kinktember Masterlist
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"I love you."
You love her too. That's a long-accepted fact, and you've told each other this a hundred times over. Sometimes it's casually told at the end of a phone call, sometimes it's in some romantic setting like when you're walking out on the promenade under the night sky, but in a way, these ones are the most honest.
It's a little bit special when those are the only words that come to her mind while she is cumming.
She's lying with her head against your neck, still shaking in pleasure. You would reply but you're so focused on grinding into her and you're so fucking close...
By this point, it's all become a little routine. Predictable, maybe. She gets home, you cook together, eat together, watch a film or TV show together, then one of you makes a move and... You get the picture. It's any old weekday.
So maybe this isn't what people would consider to be earth-shattering sex(fuck the critics) but she likes the feeling of your hips bucking and you spilling inside her. And you love the way she struggles for breath in between her moans before she does that same little squeal right before she cums.
These nights have all blurred a little into one. Tonight will become a little section on a page of many; a few lines that are not much more than a footnote.
Silence sets in once you untangle your limbs and lay beside her. Her head is pressed against your shoulder and the post-sex smell hangs in the air.
You look out your window over at the walled gardens on the other side of the river. It's as dull a sight to look at as always and there's hardly anyone out at this time but somehow you're content with looking at this view.
"So, do you think we should visit my dad sometime?" Liz asks out of the blue.
"I know I said I would think about it, but I was a little busy just now." You roll your head over to the side, sacrificing the river view for Liz's flush face. "What's this about?"
"Like I said, he's been asking." Her words trail off and she doesn't quite meet your eyes. She gives an awkward shrug of her bare shoulders, and then scoots over, snuggling up even closer. You give her back an appreciative squeeze.
"I can't do this weekend, busy remember? But we can go next week?"
Her hand stops circling your abdomen and she lifts her head from your shoulder to look at you. "Busy?" Her eyes dart around, searching your face for clues, but she just has to ask: "With?"
"My friend's birthday, I told you last week, and you said, and I quote, 'Okay babe, I'm meeting Wony this weekend anyway, have fun!'" You do your best-worst impression of her which earns you a jab of her fist in your side and a laugh.
"Oh... I'm always forgetting things."
"You work too hard." You cup her cheek and stretch your neck muscles to plant a kiss on her forehead. She coos and moves forward again, returning to her rightful spot snug on your shoulder. You slip your arm behind her back, and both of you lie there together in comfortable silence.
Liz moves her hand up from your stomach to your chest and starts circling her fingers over your skin. The touch is light and soft and very very deliberate.
"I have another question..." Liz eventually says, trailing off her sentence as though she's half lost in her own thought.
You bring your hand up to hers, hooking under her wandering finger and raising her hand, and then you lock your fingers between hers. "What is it? Something on your mind?"
"Am I good?"
"Good? Good person? Good cook? Good girlfriend? Good what?"
Liz laughs gently nuzzling into your body to hide her face and breathing hot breath over your skin. "Good... in bed."
"Oh thank god, I thought you were going to ask about your cooking and I'm not so great at the whole white lie thing."
She tries to punch you with the hand you're holding but you tighten your grip to stop her. "Not funny," she groans with a smile on her face.
She tries to turn her head into the pillow but you refuse to move or say anything until she looks at you. When she eventually peers up and matches your gaze you tell her, "You are the perfect girlfriend in every way," you tell her.
She exhales a short chuckle and raises an eyebrow. "Nice dodge," she tells you, unable to contain her laugh, and you laugh with her. "It's okay, I have a plan."
You pause, her words suddenly throwing you. "A plan for what?"
"You'll see."
She refuses to say anything more for the rest of the night, but she smiles at your puzzlement and laughs whenever you try to playfully nudge the subject. And you do notice that a slight smile seems to stick to her face all night, right up until she falls asleep.
***
Sunday evening transport is so hellishly unpredictable, so you're walking in the apartment door about an hour later than you planned, and about twice as stressed as you should be.
All of that washes away when you look at the girl who's been waiting for you to get home.
The scented (mostly melted) candles have been burning for a while and the smell of them fills the apartment. Not only has Liz picked out one of your favourite bottles of wine, but she's poured out a pair of glasses of it already, though they're both half-empty. And as you near it, the bottle is too.
"Hey, Liz."
"Finally! Welcome home," she says with a smile as broad as your confusion. "I've been waiting so long. So, so long." She's wearing a gown you don't recognise that's soft to touch when you hug her as she throws herself against you.
"Is this new?" you ask, touching at the silk hem.
"Of course it is," she answers quickly. "I was saving it, saving it until a special night. You know... Something special to break it out for."
She moves back in your arms, so she can have a better look at you, and she stares for just a few seconds before she leans back in, this time kissing you full on the lips. There's nothing soft about it. There's no hesitancy, and certainly no tenderness. This kiss is so firmly decided, so purposeful.
She purrs her words against your lips, "I've been giving it some thought, and, I know you would never say it, but I'm a little bit... vanilla, in the bedroom. And, I know, I know," she stops you with her fingers on your lips, shushing you with the tilt of her head and a flutter of her long lashes, "You wouldn't say anything because you love me too much and you're far too kind, but, this is for me too, okay? I want to be good, I want to try different things, exciting things, and this is the best way for me to learn."
"Liz. Liz. I've barely walked in the door and you're throwing this at me. I need a minute."
"No, don't think, we've been waiting so long for you already." Liz is pulling your arm toward the bedroom door. Her soft touch and your own burning curiosity have you willingly in tow.
"We?"
She's smiling the wildest of smiles over her shoulder as she pulls you along. Your heart beats a little harder in anticipation of what lies ahead, and even more at the look of sheer excitement and determination on her beautiful face.
You dropped your bag somewhere in the middle of the room but you hadn't even taken off your shoes before Liz is bundling you through the doorway.
"This is Wonyoung."
Why the fuck is there a girl in your bed?
"Wait. I know. It's weird right?" Liz sounds giddy, almost frantic. She bounces up to you and pulls on your arm until you stand right alongside her, peering down at the young woman in front of you. "You know Wonyoung, right?"
"Of course, I know one of your best friends, but why is she in our bed?" You turn and look at the girl lying there with a similar silk gown over her body, from her neck down to just below the knee. "Sorry, no offence, but I have no idea what's happening right now."
Wonyoung doesn't react but instead chooses that moment to rise. She is sitting with her hands folded on top of her legs. She tilts her head and examines you carefully, with an unmoving gaze that's almost more uncomfortable than the two of you hovering over her.
"It's fine." The deep smooth voice cuts through the silence like a hot knife. Her voice is as cool and calm as you expected, not that you're all that familiar with it, you have only met her a handful of times.
"Liz?" you ask, turning to her again.
"I want to watch. I'm going to watch," she blurts out her response before falling silent.
"What?"
Liz exhales softly, then draws in a steady breath, steeling herself, as her mouth curves in a trembling smile. "I was talking to Wonyoung, about... things. And, well, we were talking, and I guess maybe this idea just sort of popped into our heads. I couldn't just dismiss it. And I've had this fantasy. And well Wonyoung, it's been a while. And you, I want you to. And I can learn." Liz is talking far too quickly and doesn't finish a single sentence she starts.
"What she is trying to say," Wonyoung cuts in with her voice sharp and full of cold steel. "Is that we have come to a mutually beneficial agreement."
"Arrangement." Liz chimes in with the correction.
"That I will," her eyes drift, flickering and moving over both of you, "join you both, for a while, in a few different ways. What Liz is trying to explain is that, well, to be frank, it's been a while for me and I would appreciate some good sex. As for Liz here... It just so happens she has a bit of a fantasy about this whole thing too."
"Yeah, exactly." Liz cups your cheeks and kisses you gently. "It's completely up to you, of course." Her hands rest at the back of your neck and she closes her eyes, resting her forehead against yours. "I love you."
Your hands are hanging idly by your waist. This woman sits on your bed and your girlfriend clings to you, asking you to fuck her. 
"Okay." A single word while your heart is beating hard with anticipation. You reach to Liz's waist and pull her flush against you and plant your lips against her soft supple skin.
She giggles with delight and puts a finger under your chin, tilting your gaze up. "So... We're really going to do this, huh?" Liz leans in, eyes flickering over your own as you exchange a final look. You feel her warm breath just a moment before the warm touch of her lips, pressing against yours, melting your resistance and hesitation, while sending warmth through you, easing you into acceptance, as the idea begins to cement itself in your thoughts.
There's a rustle of sheets as Wonyoung climbs up behind you and presses herself against you. "You're already late," she whispers behind you. "Don't make me wait any longer."
Liz leans away and her delicate fingers ease open your shirt, undoing each button in turn.
"Don't hold back. I want to see you give it to her." Liz takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, "Please, babe." Then she takes a step back, towards the chair that you're just now realising had been moved from the corner of the room so it had a close view of the bed.
Wonyoung pulls your shirt from behind, dragging it over your shoulders and down your arms. She follows the fabric down your back with a series of gentle kisses over your spine. The light tickle and feel of her hair drag over your skin, as she tugs the shirt free of your wrists.
"Liz..." You look over to your girlfriend who is staring with a grin on her face. Her eyes follow every single movement that Wonyoung makes as if studying them, examining them, processing them.
Wonyoung tugs the shirt free of your wrists and discards it. Her hands immediately reach over your chest and drag downward, making no secret of the way that her little breasts under the silk push firmly, and delightfully, up against your back.
Her nails drag over your skin until she hits the waist of your trousers. Delicate fingers, so precise in their movement, make quick work of the belt buckle, the button, and the zip. All without pausing, all without hesitation.
Under the dim light of the evening, Wonyoung pushes your trousers, and underwear, free from your hips. Down, over your ass, dragging them down your thighs. The cool air passes over your body, and you look to Liz for affirmation.
She smiles and she nods, waiting for what comes next.
Naked, and vulnerable, you're standing before her with another woman wrapped over you. Wonyoung reaches around you with both hands, she takes one confident grip of your still-limp length, and her other hand just a little lower onto your balls.
Liz's eyes light up at the sight.
"Not hard yet. Nervous?" Wonyoung's question is a tease. Her voice, velvet and silky, is whispered into your ear. The smell of her perfume is subtle, but the floral, womanly scent is unmistakable. She moves her hand in a light grip over the base of your cock and moves it slowly, methodically, and without the urgency you might've expected.
"Maybe..."
Wonyoung releases a silent giggle against the skin at the back of your neck. "Just wait..."
You look at Liz and her hands clamp tight over her knees as her breathing visibly hastens, matching your own. Her attention is fully, single-mindedly, upon you, with you, but there is no doubt about where her thoughts and her emotions lie. She's excited. In the comfort of seeing that, so are you.
"There we go," Wonyoung whispers. Her hands work leisurely over you. And yet in no time at all, you're rising in her grip. Stiffening. Aching for more. Your focus is on the sight of the only woman you have ever cared for, but the feeling of someone else's hand on your cock as you watch her is as strange as it is exciting.
She massages with both hands, always rhythmic, always steady. "Liz, do you like to suck cock?" Her question comes out smooth, and refined but pointed.
Liz glances up at you briefly, then down between her knees. She gives her answer as a nod, looking a little timid as her hands tighten their grip even more and her nails start to press into her knees. "I like the way his body reacts to my tongue." She glances up once more with a satisfied smile.
"That's good. And he likes it too?"
"Yes," you both say it at the same time.
You shiver as Wonyoung plants a long trail of delicate, wet kisses over your neck. She draws back her hand and leaves you there, cock stiff in the air. She walks around you slowly, finally that pretty face of hers coming into view. Her dark brown hair falls over her shoulders, the locks blending into the black silk of her gown.
She places both of her hands on your chest and stares right at you, no ounce of shyness or reserve as her piercing eyes dig deep, threatening to carve a hole clean through you.
"See something you like?" she asks. "Liz, if he is so hungry looking at me now, can you imagine what his expression is going to be like once my robe is off?"
Wonyoung rests the tip of her tongue on her lower lip, using it to moisten the pillowy soft, glossy surface. Her fingers rake down your chest as she drops elegantly, slowly to her knees and smiles up at you with those shiny red lips.
"May I?" she asks.
You take in the sight of her, kneeling before you, her lips so teasingly close to your tip that each of her soft breaths kisses it. A lustful, indecent twinkle in her eye.
You force a glance over to Liz, to which Winyoung immediately reacts, "I'm asking you, not her."
And all of the reasons to hesitate are just evaporating.
"May I suck your cock?" she repeats. She remains perfectly, unnervingly, poised on her knees.
"Yes. Suck my cock, Wonyoung."
Your breath catches. Your whole body shudders as she runs the warm, wet flat of her tongue up the underside of your hardness. Her gaze never falters. Wonyoung purses her lips, before lowering herself in her elegant descent, and letting her tongue slide around you as she sinks into the first of many bobs of her head.
Liz shuffles forward on the edge of her chair.
Wonyoung takes you deep, so deep, without so much of a gag or splutter. Her dark, doll-like eyes stare straight ahead, as she swallows your cock with her luscious lips and warm mouth. The warm and wet envelopes you so wholly that you can't stop yourself from hissing a groan of approval and you feel her mouth tighten its grip with a devious grin.
Liz squeezes her bare legs together.
Wonyoung braces herself on your hip, wrapping the other hand around your thigh as she rises and sinks back down again, again, again. Each time she gets a little quicker, a little stronger.
It's so different to when Liz does it. She's normally so playful with her tongue, and she doesn't take a lot of it inside her, but Wonyoung seems to have this sole fixation on drawing you deep into her. The very back of her throat greets your sensitive tip.
The muffled moans that roll from her throat vibrate around your shaft, and her tongue eagerly rolls all over your every inch. Her deep breaths get heavier, and her suckling becomes sloppy and wet. You're getting weak at the knees.
Wonyoung finally releases you with a short gasp and looks up at you with glassy eyes, "Fuck," she groans out before spitting over your shaft.
She clasps her hand over the head and grips you tightly, stroking up and down the length.
You don't dare to tear your gaze from the stunning, lewd woman staring up at you.
"Tastes... Mmm. So good, so good." Wonyoung whines her praise out between kisses and flicks of her tongue on your tip.
Your hands twitch and the instinct to sink your fingers into her hair is a near-unstoppable urge. You gently thread your fingers into her long, silken tresses, and gently grip them. She lets out a satisfied gasp and then says to Liz, "Look at that. See how much he wants me?"
Your gaze shoots over to Liz. Her eyes are transfixed, focused on Wonyoung's tongue, wrapped around the head of your cock. Her breath shudders, then slows.
You pull Wonyoung's head down while staring at your girlfriend. If she wants a show, you'll give her one.
A quiet sound escapes her, and then a sharper inhale, but still she shows no sign of objection. On the contrary, the pleased hum that emanates from her mouth drives you wild. It encourages you. You rock your hips forward, slamming past her lips and prodding against her throat. Your lust swells alongside your confidence.
"Good girl." You know how much Liz likes it when you're the dominant one, she often teases you in conversation about how it's hot when you tell her what to do and you notice her breathing become hitched when you whisper dirty things in her ears.
Wonyoung says nothing but moans her appreciation and rewards your command by relaxing her throat and letting you use her.
For a while you use her, over and over until you're right on the edge, Liz looks practically ready to jump out of the chair, and when you check on Wonyoung, her face is a mess. Tears streaking, saliva dripping. She's taken every last drop of this beating with nothing but an overwhelming desire to serve you.
She opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue. The desperate submissiveness in her act brings you that step closer, "Cum, cum," she moans out between deep gulps of air. "Do it. Give it to me."
She's holding your cock in her fist and pumping it towards her face. With the first hot jet of cum, she cranes forward and takes it onto her eager tongue. She looks up at you as if urging you to keep going, to fill her pretty mouth.
Liz gasps audibly as you empty the contents of your balls into the sweet girl's waiting mouth. Wonyoung does nothing but accept what you're giving.
Your girlfriend just watched you blow a load into the mouth of her friend.
With each spurt into the soft, receptive touch of Wonyoung's inviting mouth, Liz squirms on her chair, her tongue playing on her lower lip.
"That's so hot," she strains to say through heavy breaths.
Wonyoung swallows all of it without instruction and then cleans you off in the same eager fashion that she sucked the load out of you.
"Hey Liz," Wonyoung croons in that smooth, velvety voice, while kissing along your thighs, her breathing quick and light on your damp skin. "You should have invited me sooner. I can think of a hundred ways to fuck this cock."
Wonyoung sweeps her damp hair from her face. She presses her forehead to your thigh, collecting herself. You can feel her taking deep breaths through her nose against the skin of your thigh.
"Show me."
At that, Wonyoung glances at Liz in genuine surprise.
"Show me all of those," Liz pauses, and takes a moment to collect her words. "All of those ways to fuck my man. Please show me."
"Okay, Liz, you just sit there and watch me fuck your man." Wonyoung's lips are sticky with your cum, glistening and tempting in the low light of the room, the remnants of your seed on her chin are even more provocative, as Wonyoung tilts her head and reveals a gorgeous neck and collarbone that draws your attention. "Well?" Wonyoung continues, extending her hand, "Help me up."
"Of course." You reach for her, eager and so, so ready. You pull her to her feet, and into a heated kiss, a little rougher than you should, but she doesn't mind. You lean down, slipping your hands around her thighs and then up to her ass, lifting her against your body.
Wonyoung squeals as you take three steps towards the bed, toss her over the edge, and then stand over her. Her gown has fallen open, framing her petite, naked body in the centre of your bed. It takes no time for her to move back, propping herself up on her elbows, and then giving her body a delicious stretch to emphasise her every feature. She sits there, spreading her legs, knees parted, showing you her bare, wet pussy, flushed and exposed.
"I want you over me so badly. Pushing my legs up over my head and fucking down into me. But not tonight. Tonight I'm going to show Liz how to ride a cock. Would you like that?" The lust in her dark eyes shines, not for you, not for Liz, but for the moment, the experience, the power that Wonyoung wields right now.
"Yes," you whisper.
"Good." Wonyoung raises herself, rising to her knees to look up at you, leaving a lingering, open-mouthed kiss on your lips before peeling the gown off of her shoulders.
In a small, feminine pile, it gathers on the floor. Then she flaunts herself, not so much in an exhibitionist way, though she certainly has every right to, but more of someone who enjoys being admired. It's not just because her body is fucking stunning, but it sells such a sinful promise of how good it's going to feel to fuck, and she knows it.
You hold her waist for that simple purpose. Hands over her narrow body, soft skin and toned muscles underneath. For her part, Wonyoung extends one delicate arm so that she may brush her index finger over your jaw, just making that familiar, if chilling, grazing over your skin. You slide your hand down between her legs and press a single finger inside her.
"Mmm. Don't be afraid," she purrs.
You stroke her smoothly. Two fingers, twisting them, delving into her as her insides react, tightening, dampening around your teasing invasion.
"Already getting me so worked up, and poor Liz over there is being so well-behaved."
"Hey!" Liz laughs playfully. Her playful laughter trails off when Wonyoung's voice lowers, and the erotic, needy sound in her tone builds.
"Lie down, let me show her how it's done. Look at me. Watch me."
Immediately, you melt away. Back to the bed, to the cool feeling of the sheets under your skin. The quiet anticipation, and the expectation. With languid grace, and without her body ever seeming to interrupt its soft, almost perfect curvature, Wonyoung climbs over you. She places one knee on the bed, then the other. A hand on your chest, then the other. The weight of her, what little there is, pressing you down until the moist heat from her lips finds your cock.
She presses your length flat against your body, the lips of her pussy holding it in a long kiss that she gradually eases over your shaft. Grinding back and forth, you watch as your cock disappears under her as she comes forward, only to drag herself back down against it.
"Feel that?" Wonyoung pants quietly.
"Uh-huh," you hum.
"Feel that warmth, that slickness sliding around you. Imagine what it's going to feel like inside, hmm?" She coaxes a twitch out of you as you do exactly as she says.
Her tight abs roll into you, followed by the press of her thighs. Hot and clasping. Higher, her bare chest bears a pair of hard nipples on her little perky tits. Higher still, her face twists in expressions of pleasure, the delight in her shining eyes, the rapture etched across her face. Her lips tremble as something threatens to escape, whether a whine, moan, exasperated breath or a request for something, she never vocalises the sound and it remains nothing more than a sensual promise of a good time ahead.
Wonyoung slows to a stop and throws her head forward, putting her hands on your shoulders. You place yours at her legs, watching her close her eyes, drawing her lower lip between her teeth.
"Feel how wet I am?" Wonyoung moves her hips in tight circles and she struggles to hold back her whimpers. Her warmth flows out of her and over you. "That's me, getting turned on at the thought of having this inside of me," she whispers. She rocks herself again, this time drawing out her whimper.
"God. Fuck..." You gasp and groan. You want this. Need it.
Wonyoung lifts and turns your cock until your head prods against her tight and needy pussy. She pauses to look to the side, her hair falling over her face but you can make out a grin, that very sly smile as she tilts her head towards your girlfriend, no doubt appreciating her breathless arousal.
"I'm going to ride your boyfriend's cock now. Cum all over his cock. Make him cum inside me. How does that feel?" Wonyoung moans softly, tipping her hips up, down, and over again, toying with the head. "Mmm, you like the sound of that, don't you?"
Liz is gripping the arms of her chair, not saying a thing. She just whines with agitation, kicks her feet out and stamps on the floor.
Then, Wonyoung gasps with relief. While your head was turned, Wonyoung surprised you by drawing the tip of your cock into her. You snap you're attention back to her as she settles around your cock. Where her throat was so accepting, her pussy is decisively not. It's so fucking tight that she struggles to take much of you in at first. Such small movements over the tip, tiny motions that rock her. And yet the sensation is something that could, and does, unravel you in an instant.
You're powerless to resist as she takes more and more of you into herself with each and every drive back down. Each little push, deeper inside, the further apart her thighs, and the deeper she descends, pushing herself, forcing herself, upon your cock.
You hold onto her ass, guiding her every bit of the way, rocking her rhythmically back and forth. Deeper, harder, tighter, she stretches, accommodating you until you reach as far as her tight walls will allow.
"You're gonna ruin this pussy." The sultry voice and the crude declaration cause another tremble out of you.
At that, she places both hands on either side of your head, palms flat on the sheet. Her pretty face is so close, just bobbing slightly as she fucks you. She pants heavily, her small, round breasts quiver and bounce up and down in front of your eyes.
She stays like that for a while, fucking herself on you, telling you all sorts of sweet nothings. "Gonna ride that thick cock. Love it so much, feel so fucking good." All the while, her perfectly tight ass is in your rough hands as you knead it and pull it wide.
Eventually, she throws herself back, breaking the intense stare, and making herself a spectacle again. She leans back, far back, her hand behind her for support, and gives both of you a show. Those slender thighs shake just enough to send you crazy each time she slaps them down against your waist. Her cute, shapely tits bouncing and jiggling.
"Fuck! Liz! You lucky girl! Mhm!" You're squeezing and palming her thighs roughly, fingers into flesh. Pulling her down hard, trying your damnedest to force her even tighter against you.
"Sfucking hot," A filthy compliment that is rewarded with another gasp of arousal and a short burst of bouncing as desperately fast as she can.
She slows to a crawl again. One leg moves off you, and then her hips swivel and the movement on your length is breathtaking. She's sideways on you now. One leg between yours, and the other stretched out over your body, her foot by your face.
Wonyoung is looking right at Liz now. "Watch me cum on your boyfriend's cock."
You're holding her by the leg she has over you, and you're using it as the leverage you need to buck into her while she works the lateral movement. The bed shakes and protests under your exertions. Wonyoung pulls her hands behind her neck, scooping up her hair and holding it up, so every inch of her body can be seen.
"Look. Look, Liz." Wonyoung lets out a guttural moan. A throaty, visceral noise of climax catching you off guard. You keep rolling your hips, taking in the way her body tenses and tightens and she trembles all over. "Cumming. On your. Boyfriend." She barely gets the words out as her head falls backwards and you can't take your eyes off of her, or the way she spasms on your lap.
She struggles to keep up the pace and rhythm but still tries her best, her resolve amid an orgasm is worthy of respect. You move her, this time, hands on her waist and twisting her so she faces away from you. She allows you and gasps in delight the moment you reposition her, her hands reaching for your thighs.
You continue the thrusts, with Wonyoung content now to take the punishment. You fuck her in a steady, thumping motion, the slap of skin against skin loud and ringing in the air. Her ass is marked red, compliments of the tight squeeze you had on it earlier. Her taut little cheeks bounce and shake each time you slam into her. Her own whiny moans and squeals mix and add a new melody to the atmosphere.
Wonyoung is nothing but moans now, one orgasm just cascaded into the next, and she shows no signs of stopping. Every now and then her sounds break through, becoming cries. Each time they do, you follow it up with a series of rapid slapping of hips. It's all you can do, just to keep yourself going, chasing that elusive climax that the three of you so desperately want.
Liz is fucking losing it. She's squeezing her thighs together. Grinding. Dancing in her chair. Her fingers, her knuckles, are white with strain as she holds onto the chair for dear life. She's making squeals and gasping moans too—she wants to cum so bad. It is as though her pussy is squeezing on nothing, you can imagine just how needy and wet she is. How painful it must feel, not being able to have that satisfaction that you can give Wonyoung.
"Yes, yes, yes!" Wonyoung wails out her climax with such intensity that it actually leaves her voice a little hoarse and you can't hold it anymore, you have to follow her lead. You have to cum.
So you do.
Wonyoung drags her nails across the skin of your legs as you reach that tipping point and pump a thick stream of semen into her. There is more and more, and she takes it all greedily as if there's no limit. As if she'll never be satisfied.
You let it all out, pump her full of hot, thick, semen. The release is enough that, for a while, you blank out the world. Nothing matters but the overwhelming feeling of pleasure.
Consciousness returns with you lying limp on the bed. Your head rolls to one side and you struggle to stay focused. You gaze down past your feet where Wonyoung lies collapsed, the exact same way as yourself. Still, you watch, and try to keep focus, and you do because when Wonyoung awakes she lifts her head, a sheen of perspiration glistening and flowing in droplets from her dark, silky hair and down her face, streaking her skin and flowing over her red cheeks and flushed lips.
The combination of both exhaustion and arousal as Wonyoung catches her breath causes a wonderful sight before she meets your own exhausted gaze and that smile of hers, all pearly white and perfect and so damn alluring.
"Fuck! I have to! Fuck!" Liz is rampant now, her hand reaches in between her own legs and then her legs are spread apart and you can see her furiously fingering her own pussy, the motion of her whole arm trembling and shaking. Her pussy is wet, and gleaming. And the fingers in it move and dive deeply. "That was the hottest fucking thing... I need to... Cum..."
Wonyoung supports the side of her face up with her fist, a grin on her features as she watches the way Liz acts like she's going insane, out of her mind, she just needs the cum in the worst way, the urgency apparent from the way her fingers disappear, pumping into herself.
Wonyoung starts crawling up you, to rest on you, while transfixed on your girlfriend pumping herself into oblivion. "Oh, Liz, that is beautiful," her eyes light up as she comments, "Now imagine the feel of it... His cum leaking out of me right now. Because he fucked me and not you."
That's what sends Liz spiralling over the edge.
Liz's body twists, writhes, shudders and convulses in orgasm. It's almost hypnotic, her thighs squeeze together so hard that her hand must hurt, but she just goes on and on and on, never easing, and it leaves a hot, sticky mess all over the chair and her fingers. You watch as she rides those waves of blissful gratification, all over a set of digits that aren't nearly enough to satisfy, not even for a moment.
Wonyoung brings her lips close to your face, hot breath washes over you, and she whispers quietly into your ear, "She's going to want this again, you know? Look at her, you even seen her cum that hard?"
"No, I haven't."
"Then me and you? We're going to be having a lot of sex."
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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 7 months
Text
Overprotective Dad
Pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader (y/n)
Warnings: google translate spanish..
Girl Dad Carlos series continues, enjoy!
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Carlos, Charles and Pierre participated in the World Stars Football match. It was a charity football match and it was happening tonight so you and your now three year old daughter Bea decided to go with Carlos and cheer for him.
It was no secret that Carlos loved football and is an avid fan of Real Madrid, so the fact that his wife and daughter will be watching him play tonight made him all too excited.
"Están mis niñas listas?" Carlos asks entering Bea's room where the two of you were getting her ready. (Are my girls ready?)
"All done! Go show daddy what you're wearing." You say as you tighten the red ribbon on her tiny curly ponytail and put her down from your lap. Bea excitedly runs towards Carlos and spins around in front of him showing him the small grey Ferrari sweatshirt that had Sainz written in big red letters on the back and number 55 on the front in the right top corner of the sweatshirt.
"Wow, mi amor, eres hermosa." Carlos says picking her up in his arms and kissing her chubby cheek that was blushing. Bea was a truly girly little girl and she loved compliments and attention especially from Carlos. And Carlos being the best girl dad in the world loved spoiling her. "What does it say on your back?" He asks her.
"Sainz" You whisper to remind her.
"Sainz" And she repeats after you.
"Are you gonna cheer for papa tonight?"
"Yes!!" She screams clapping her hands.
"Did you show him you hair?" You ask stepping closer to them and fixing the ribbon on her hair.
"Let me see." She quickly turns her head and reaches for her ponytail for him to see. "Ayy, maravillosa!" (Gorgeous!)
You put on your long trench coat and high heel boots and Carlos took his backpack and Bea into his arms. Soon you were out the door on your way to the stadium. Since it was big event with a lot of famous athletes, there was a ton of reporters impatiently waiting for them to arrive.
As soon as you saw it, mild anxiety washed over you. You got used to it by now, but you didn't like them taking pictures of Bea. So far you have successfully kept your three-year-old out of the media eye. It's not that you were hiding her, but you didn't like them sharing pictures of her all over the internet.
Besides, as much as Bea is an extrovert and loves attention, she's still just a little kid who gets terrified of a crowd of strangers shouting in her face. And that's exactly what happened this time.
As soon as you got out of the car they spotted you and the camera flashes went off like crazy. You took a deep breath opening the back door of the car to get Bea out of her seat. Carlos stood behind you with the backpack in his hand and held the door of the car open.
"Come here, baby" You say unbuckling her belt as she stretched her arms towards you. Bea already noticed from the car that something was happening outside. They were calling for you shouting your names out loud and she was very confused about who these people are and how do they know her name.
You positioned her on your hip and tightly wrapped your arms around her. At first her big brown eyes widened watching all those people standing in your way as you started walking towards the stadium. Carlos had his arm around you as you walked close to him, but you were struggling because it was hard to see clearly from the flashes and in addition to all that, you were wearing high heel boots and holding your child.
"Mama.." You could hear Bea's heart pounding against your chest and it didn't take long for her to burst into tears. It all became too much for her.
"Baby, it's okay shh.." You tried, but it didn't help and you completely understood why. "Oh my God, I'm gonna trip and fall"
"Give me her" Carlos slung his backpack over his shoulder and stopped walking for a second to take her from your arms into his.
"Are you okay? Hold on to me." He asked you and you quickly gave him a nod. She hid her face into his neck and you held on to his arm as you started walking again.
You could feel Carlos slowly starting to fume with anger because they scared and made his little girl cry, and she was so excited to come here and watch her daddy play. You tightened your grip on him trying to calm him down, but once one of them tried to shove their camera into her face, Carlos was about to lose it. He was not having any of that.
"Do that one more time and I'll smash the fucking camera against your head you fucking piece of shit" He stopped in tracks, his brown eyes darkened. If he hadn't been holding Bea, he would have punched him for sure.
"Carlos, no please" You said pulling him away.
When you finally managed to make your way through the crowd and reach the inside of the stadium you ran into Charles.
"The Sainz family!" Charles yelled smiling, but he quickly noticed something was wrong.
"Just give us a second please." Carlos said to him as you two stood to the side to calm Bea down. "Bebe, it's okay, you're safe, daddy wouldn't let anything happen to you" He said softly wiping her tears away and placing a kiss on her cheek. After a few minutes of comforting, the tears dried up and the sweet smile returned to her face.
"Papi no nos dejes" She said quietly playing with the collar of his t-shirt. (Daddy, don't leave us)
"No bebe, tu y mami vendrán conmigo. Vas a apoyar a papá, sí?" Carlos said tickling her tummy making her laugh and nod in agreement. (No baby, you and mommy will come with me. You're going to cheer for dad, okay?)
"We'll be daddy's loudest cheerleaders, okay?" You said gently pinching her cheek.
"Y más hermosas" (and the most beautiful)
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