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#drinking iced water from a new water bottle
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I just had some Isastegi Cider that my local store had in it's wine section for a while. It was pretty good but very different from the local hard ciders i've had, dry or sweet. Is Cider a popular drink in the Basque Country? Or is this "American has Basque Cider, thinks all Basque people love cider"?
Kaixo anon!
Omg, of course! Cider is one important piece in our culture! In fact, until the 19th century cider was the only everyday drink for most Basques here in the coastal regions of EH because wine - produced in the plains - had to travel through the mountains via very bad roads, which made its transport slow and dangerous, which made wine so expensive only wealthy people could afford it.
Basque sailors would bring cider in their ships - water would have gone off - in their voyages to Greenland and Canada to hunt whales. And fun fact, Astigarraga (Gipuzkoa) is known as the cider capital of the world because it features a museum devoted to Basque cider and cider-making, there's one cider house for every 230 people and every 0.5km2, the highest ratios in the world.
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Basque cider - in Euskara sagardo or apple wine - is flat and has no sugar added. It's made just with Basque apple varieties. It's a bit more sour than any other given cider, but in return it's more aromatic and light golden.
Cider is still an everyday drink - mostly with meals - in many Basque homes, but the cider season (from January to April) is when the cider from the latest harvest can be tasted and it's like a social event in EH, mostly in Gipuzkoa. And it's not something new! There are some theories that defend our traditional instrument txalaparta - known to be heard from miles away in certain conditions - was born as a call to cider season!
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We call this time of the year txotx season! And what's txotx? Well, cider is kept in huuuuuge barrels called kupelak, like these:
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Each one holds a different kind of cider: sweeter, drier, depending on the varieties used. When you go to a Basque cider house, one of the servers there will randomly shout: txotx!! and open one of these kupelak. People will stand up quickly with their glasses, ready to taste the cider and go back to eat; then, sometime later, txotx! Another kupela is open and another cider is available to taste!
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Cider has to do txinparta, some sorte of "be broken", this is, the liquid has to be served from a certain distance and height, rebound first on the side of the glass and then onto the bottom, so all flavors and smells can truly be enjoyed. If you're drinking from a bottle, the same applies: it'll taste as it should when served from a height and after the rebounds on the glass. Not too cold, though! Just around 10-12ºC, and NO ICE.
Last year, EH produced around 12 million litres of cider, and its production increases every year.
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slfcare · 2 years
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When you find something you want (even if it’s just a result of casual thinking or boredom or a harmless ‘what if’), hold onto it. When you’re doing bad it’s easy to think it’s never going to happen and let others discourage you, but in those bleak moments it’s even more important to know that feeling of wanting and looking forward to something. It doesn’t matter if it’s merely a meal or a trip, seeing the sunrise tomorrow, attending a concert or hugging a friend, let yourself want things. They’ll pull you through when you least expect it.
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i definitely share the problem many people have of whats in my head vastly outpacing what ive actually written, but i sort of have the opposite problem with other parts of the creative process bc the thing is when i do actually write its never so much bc i sit down to write, more like the ideas that have been pressurizing finally burst forth in a chaotic torrent that drags me into a fuguelike state where there is nothing but feverishly getting the words out with minimal mind to editing or organization and eventually after at least several hours i surface and find myself with like 8k new words of writing to sort through, and hope the spell is broken rather than being only a brief window of lucidity bc it wont properly be done for the next couple days actually, which is what happens sometimes
#these days i am lucky bc i usually have a typing medium at hand and can get the new writing in the form of typed files#in the past i have definitely used all sorts of things that were less than ideal bc the writing frenzy hit in inconvenient circumstances#i have covered paper plates front and back. scribbled in pen on the inside of water bottle wrappers. literally stolen paper from nearby#printers or on a few occasions /ripped blank pages from unattended notebooks belonging to others/ bc thats how bad the Need to write is#obviously at that point i had already run out of room on my hands arms and available sections of my legs so i was desperate#i once had no better writing tool available than green icing so guess what? i used it and later had to transfer the notes worth salvaging#to actual pen and paper once available bc icing attracts ants so it couldnt stay#in drama i covered a piece of scrap wood all over with writing while having a psychotic episode and people called it the board of prophecy#and this is just counting the times it has actually been story/character/worldbuilding notes and scene/dialogue fragments and timelines#yknow actually useful creative stuff? as opposed to just randomly Needing to Write Anything Just To Be Writing And Have Written which#has produced stuff of wildly varying content and quality over the years lmao#anyway under no circumstances be jealous of 'actually being able to get the words out' lmao its losing days of your life to it#its not being able to eat or drink or sleep even when your brain is released from the frenzy enough to remember that those 1) are things#and 2) you need to do them. its missing important events you needed to go to and important things you needed to do#and not being able to explain why without gambling over your continued freedom and autonomy#etc etc anyway guess why im mentioning this? hint it has to do with the new folder in my notes app with a total of ~32k new content in it#most of which is Fun and Fresh but with a dash of Throwing In Some Revitalized Versions of Old Ideas and which holds so much potential as a#new thing to occupy my days with for the next few months at least and which also. crucially. stole several days of my life from me#i only stopped bc i hit cluster headache time and was forcibly jolted from being able to process anything that wasnt overwhelming pain
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teaboot · 1 year
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One of the best parts about working at a sex shop is the employee discount, and yeah that means excellent deals on sex supplies but that's not the big brain part.
You come to my house. Something is cooking in the kitchen- it smells wonderful. What is it? It's novelty dick-shaped pasta. I've set up a sensual sexy Italian dinner. There are candles set up on the table. They're melting too fast, dripping everywhere- they're low temp waxplay pillar candles. For dessert, I serve you a delicious ice cream topped in penis-shaped rainbow confetti sprinkles and strawberry body paint drizzle, and afterwards, serve coffee with roasted hazelnut warming lube.
We play a board game while we drink. It's sexy monopoly. It's your turn. You roll the dice. They come up as 'whisper into' and 'butt'. I lost the original dice. We're using the sexy dice. You move four spaces.
After dinner, I run you a bath. A bubble bath. The bubble gel? Sensual ocean breeze. There are candles lined up around the tub. The scent is overpowering. Why? They're three-in-one fruit flavored massage oil candles. I'm using so much. It's so wasteful. Do you want to shave? I have conditioning shave cream that smells like limes. And an electric body razor, but you can't use that in the tub.
How about a bath bomb? You toss one in. It's cherry blossom scented. As it dissolves, three sexy bath sex suggestion cards fall out. They're all variations on doggy style, probably because fucking in a bathtub is probably the easiest way to break your hip.
The water cools. You get out an dry off with a novelty towel. If you wrap it around your chest, it looks like you have gigantic tatas bursting through the fabric like the Hulk.
You walk into the bedroom. I'm there, reading an instructional book titled "The Housewife's Guide To Every Day Stripping". I'm wearing a neck pillow designed to look like a massive curved weiner. Also a pair of fake leather bondage leggings and an oversized men's christmas T-shirt that says "Jingle My Bells" across the front.
I see you come in. I put down the book, take off the pillow. Offer you a massage. You accept. I already burned up all the massage candles so I pop a new bottle of CBD massage oil that says something wrong about Chakras on it. It's very gritty. That's because there's little chunks of amethyst in it for some fucking reason. It's fine, though. You say you don't mind.
I don't do massages very often. It's bad. You end up more tense than before. One of your muscles starts to cramp- it's okay. I whip out a bottle of Lidocane topical masculine performance numbing spray. You immediately feel like your shoulder went to the dentist. It's not ideal, but it's better than cramping.
You're not in the mood to bone after that. Which is good, cause I'm actually pretty asexual, but it hasn't come up yet so I'm relieved to avoid the conversation. Instead we get ready for bed. (The weather is terrible, and I insist you stay over.) I set up the futon, then realize it smells like cigarettes from the previous owner and shyly ask if you wanna cuddle in my room. You're down.
I crawl under the covers, placing my penis-shaped pink glitter pride bottle on the side table in case one of us wakes up thirsty. Once you're settled in, I turn off the glowing bare ass night light and the room goes black.
It takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust, but when they do, you look up at the ceiling. It's dotted all over with little green flourescent lights. Are they plastic stars? No. I've pinned up a thousand glow in the dark condoms. God bless
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downbadf0rficppl · 3 months
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someone's there
Bucky x F!Reader
Summary: When you walk home from the office, someone seems to be following you home. Your best friend is not happy about that.
Word Count: 2.5K
Warnings: Stalking/Stalker-Ex BF, Domestic Abuse, Anxiety, Angry!Bucky, Protective!Bucky, Panic Attack
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You stepped out of the office, pulling your coat tighter around you against the night. It was mid-November and New York was getting colder and colder every day that passed by. You were excited about Christmas - it was one of your favourite times of the year. The lights that went up from apartment to apartment, the tree and ice rink in Rockefeller center that you and your boyfriend - Nathan - visited every year, you and Nathan driving up to Boston to meet your family. Well, your ex-boyfriend.
You'd broken up a month ago. He'd been laid off about a year ago and taken up drinking to fill the time. Nathan was not a very nice drunk. He'd yell and throw things when he was angry, which was most of the time when he was drunk, and then beg you to come back, saying that he needed you and that he'd clean up his act as soon as he got a job. You had a well-paying job - secretary to the Avengers - but Nathan was always the higher earner of the two of you. You could hardly sustain his lifestyle on your job, but you stayed. Why? You had no idea.
Nathan was a smart guy, he got picked up by some major firm headquartered in Manhattan just over a month after he got laid off. He was back to his old routine of leaving the house at 6 and coming back by 8 - you hardly saw him anymore.
And much to your dismay, the drinking didn't stop. Sure, he slowed down. He couldn't risk ruining his reputation at his new workplace. So he limited the drinking to after work. But he never stopped.
The throwing vases became throwing punches, the yelling became constant threats, consoling words became consoling sex.
You did well to hide the new bruises from your colleagues, although your act was not good enough to fool everybody. You'd let your guard down in the toilet, rolling your sleeves up to wash your hands, just as Natasha Romanoff. Yes, Natasha Romanoff aka the Black Widow aka the world's best assassin.
She didn't mention it there, but you were called to a meeting with her soon after. She sat you down with a glass of water and asked you a simple question: "Are you safe?"
Your wide eyes and trembling figure gave you away.
Nat implored you to break up with him or to at least come and live at the compound for a while - just until you figured out what you wanted to do.
You turned her offer down, stating that you were fine. You'd be fine. She fixed you with a stern glance, but even Natasha Romanoff couldn't force you to do something you didn't want.
Bucky, on the other hand, was a completely different story. He'd noticed the bruises long before Nat had, and gone out of his way to try and make your life easier. He sent you less paperwork to file, fewer menial tasks to do, and even put in a request for you to be moved to the New York office. In his eyes that meant you'd be further away from Nathan.
The next week, you both moved to Manhattan.
The bruises started to get darker, and more visible around your body. You dropped the short-sleeved dresses and low necklines in favour of long-sleeved turtlenecks with trousers.
Bucky worried for you. The dark rings around your eyes, the ghostly pallor of your skin. He was determined to save you. The only issue was he had no idea where you lived. New York was a big enough place that he'd never run into you. He knew you didn't live in Brooklyn, but that was about it.
The night where it all came to a head was after a Stark Gala. There was a group photo, where Bucky's arm rested on your hip while your arm rested on his. Nathan was pissed. He'd been sitting on the sofa when you came home, the photo open on his phone and a half-drunk bottle of whiskey in his hand. He pushed you into a wall and slapped you, his rings cutting into your face. He yelled every manner of words in your direction, calling you a 'slut' and a 'whore', and telling you that you were worthless. You cried, fresh bruises forming on your neck where he gripped you and blood dripping down your face.
You took his berating for the next few hours until Nathan retreated onto the sofa, sitting down and muttering under his breath. You opened your mouth, trying to defend yourself. Wrong move. Nathan stood up, even more agitated than before. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey that was almost finished and brought it down on your head.
The next thing you remember was waking up to 4 white walls. You were in a hospital, your hand being gripped tightly by someone. You tried to escape from the vice-like grip when a thumb ran over your knuckles. You knew those hands.
"Bucky." You whispered, your eyes still adjusting to the light. Your voice was sore from disuse, but the way that Bucky's eyes lit up, you would have thought that you were singing a love song just to him.
The calmness in your heart faded as soon as your brain caught up with you. You tried to convince Bucky that he needed to go but he shushed you gently.
"Shh. Don't stress yourself out. You're safe. I promise." The red rings around his eyes gave him away. Bucky had been crying. Over you.
You held his hand tightly that day. And the day after. And even the day after that. You weren't sure if you would ever find the strength to let go.
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By the time you were out of the hospital, you'd moved back to Upstate New York - Bucky had made sure that you would never have to set foot in the city again if you didn't want to.
You returned back to work as normal - the restraining order you had filed against Nathan made your mind rest easier. The whole team was happy to have you back and smiling again, but they made sure to check in with you a hell of a lot more than they used to. Clint would swing by with an apple, and accidentally leave it at your desk - the first time, you'd felt bad and tried to return it, but you quickly caught on to his tactics. Nat would bring up game nights and movie nights, begging you to come, even if it was just you both.
But most of all, Bucky. Every day, you'd wake up to a text from him, wishing you a wonderful morning and spewing some inspirational affirmations for the start of the day. He'd bring you coffee, made just how you like it, as soon as he was back from his morning run. He'd spent a while perfecting the drink - making sure it was exactly to your standard. He'd walk you to your apartment for your biweekly 2pm therapy sessions (that he'd set you up with after he had realised how much difficulty you were having sleeping), and then off to lunch at some random hole-in-the-wall spot that he knew you would love. He'd call you as you got home, making sure you got home safe, and then a goodnight text to fall asleep to.
To others, his persistent need to be around you would be stifling. But after 4 years of having your needs be put lower than the damn cockroaches in the walls, it was nice to feel wanted.
You set your life up - personal bank accounts, new social media - anything to separate that part of your life from your new one. You got a new phone (courtesy of Tony, who insisted on buying you the latest iPhone, no matter how hard you tried to convince him that he didn't need to do that because 'where on earth would you find the money to pay him back?' He scoffed at that, "I'm a billionaire hun, I think I can afford to buy my secretary a new phone). You went to get your haircut, the shorter length was something you knew Nathan would have hated.
You'd walked into the compound the day after you got it cut, worried that no one would like it as much as you did.
As soon as you made it to the kitchen, you heard a loud wolf whistle. Nat was sitting on the sofa with Sam, and they both cheered loudly as you posed for them.
Bucky's jaw dropped as he walked into the kitchen. You were still showing off for Nat and Sam - you hadn't seen him walk in.
He walked over, reaching behind you to get a pod for the coffee machine, leaning down to whisper in your ear, "Looking good, Doll." His hot breath against your neck sent shivers down your spine.
You smiled up at him, before grabbing an apple and heading back toward your desk. You glanced back at Bucky and your eyes drifted downwards to a very large and very prominent issue. You stifled a giggle before getting back to work.
You'd continued to tease Bucky for a while, inconspicuous brushes and a few comments here and there. Enough to make him flustered, but not enough to make him suspicious.
He continued being the perfect gentleman. Helping you when you needed him to, being there when no one else was.
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You started your normal journey back home, getting out of the compound was sometimes a tedious affair because of the thousands of security gates between the compound and the outermost gate. Given that this is where the Avengers live and train, it's justified. Still tedious though.
It was a quarter mile from the compound to the bus stop that took you home - you didn't like driving, especially in the frost and the dark. You put your headphones in, picking back up on the podcast you started this morning. It was an interesting one - some new True Crime podcast that your best friend had recommended to you.
The hair on the back of your neck stood up as you walked through a dark and lonely street. You gripped your bag tighter around you and sped up. There was someone following you.
You glanced behind you, your eyes catching sight of brown hair and a blue t-shirt. It had Palm Springs emblazoned on it. Funny. You'd bought Nathan a similar t-shirt a few years ago.
You fished your phone out of your pocket, quickly dialing the one person you felt safest with.
"Doll?" Bucky picked after the first ring.
"Bucky, cred că cineva mă urmărește." You said, your voice loud enough that the other person could hear you were on the phone.
"Tell me where you are, Doll, I'll come and get you." You could hear Bucky pulling on a jacket and grabbing his keys.
"Umm, cred că sunt aproape de Joey's."
"The pizza place?"
"Da, îl văd de unde sunt." The footsteps behind you seem to be getting louder, but you forced yourself to remain calm, "Am să te aștept acolo. Vă rog să veniți repede."
You ducked into the pizza place, walking straight up to the counter. By now, you were sure of who it was - but Nathan didn't follow you into the pizza place. Maybe you were just overreacting. Joey's was mostly empty, with a few teenagers here and there - probably camping out after some house party that got shut down.
"Same as always, kiddo?" Joey asked, and you nodded with a slight grin. You and Bucky came to Joey's Pizza Place a lot - Bucky used to say that it felt like home. You were inclined to agree.
"No metal man with you today?" Joey enjoyed teasing Bucky. His dad, also named Joey, had fought alongside Bucky in the war. Joey had grown up on stories of the greatness of the Howling Commandoes and it had been one of his greatest pleasures to serve him pizza every time they came.
"He's coming - got caught up in traffic."
"Busy men, huh?" You giggled at that.
The door opened again. You turned around to find yourself face-to-face with someone you hoped you'd never see again. Nathan's sister.
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"Thought I'd find you here, bitch."
June stalked over to you, her face filled with rage. She had been good friends with you before Nathan and your relationship started going wrong, but when you had confided your pains with her, she'd turned her back on you. Blood is thicker than water. She'd called you names before - filling your comments with every vile comment she could think of, texting and emailing you death threats, anything to remind you of just how broken and damaged you were.
Before you knew what was happening, her hand collided with your cheek. The whole place burst into action.
Joey jumped around the side of the counter as June hurled insults at your face.
You tried to push her away as she swung at you again, but her hand hit your shoulder.
Joey pushed you behind him, as one of the kitchen hands stepped out to pull June back.
A teenager was on the phone with the police.
You tried to cover your ears as the noise built in your head.
The door swung open, letting in a draft.
Boots on the linoleum floor. Familiar boots.
Sirens.
"We were in the neighbourhood, Sergeant." Something about a noise complaint.
A hand pulling you into a firm chest. Tears streaming down your face. Your favourite voice whispering sweet nothings, stroking your hair, begging you to calm down.
"You're doing so good for me, Doll, just keep breathing." Bucky's pulse was steady under your hand. Slowly, your breathing evened out and you lifted your head to meet Bucky's eyes. He kept his arms wrapped tightly around you to stop you from collapsing.
You stayed in Bucky's embrace while the police wrapped up - June was being taken to the local PD for the altercation and also driving under the influence. Bucky told you that Nathan had also been arrested for violating the restraining order. Your heart sunk.
"I'll never escape him, will I?" You whispered to Bucky, as you sat down in your favourite booth to eat.
"You can, and you will," Bucky reassured you, squeezing your hand in his.
You ate your pizza in relative silence after that - most of the shop had cleared out with the police. Joey gave you your pizza for free, along with a tight hug on the side. He told you that you'd always be safe in here, "although metal man seems to have that covered." Bucky glared at the nickname, making you both laugh.
You walked hand-in-hand to Bucky's motorbike - his fingers ghosted over the bruise on your cheekbone from the slap as he fastened your helmet on your head.
"It's nothing, Buck. I've had worse." Bucky gave you a pointed look, "Too soon?"
He threw his leg over the bike and you settled behind him, resting your cheek on his spine. "Forever is too soon for my liking."
You smiled at that and nuzzled further into his back.
"Where to madam?" He said, putting on an exaggerated British accent. You leaned up to whisper in his ear.
"Take me home, Buck."
fin.
buy me a coffee
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marlenesluv · 4 months
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lando + babysitting his drunk girlfriend
note: i love this sm. as someone that is usually the one babysitting my friends, this would melt my heart if someone did that for me fr, and lando would 100% be the one. also feel free to send headcannon ideas! :)
type: headcannon
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۵ about every few weeks or so, you went out with the other wags to go clubbing without your boyfriends. yes, you loved your boyfriends, but they loomed and interfered quite a bit.
۵ so going out as a group was easier, not to mention that you all wanted to gossip.
۵ you told lando you were going with charlotte, isa, lily, carmen, kika, kelly, and laila. which was a bigger group than normal. usually it was just you, charlotte, isa, and kika, but everyone else was free!
۵ like always, you sent lando the location of the club, and turning on live location as well, just in case.
۵ while you were out with your girls, getting absolutely shitfaced, lando was at home watching friends reruns to try to ease his mind.
۵ lando knew you needed to go out with your friends without him, and he was fine with that, he just wanted you to be safe, and when you’re drunk?… you never know.
۵ after about five shots and four martinis, you knew you were drunk, too drunk to drive, and so was everyone else.
۵ at around 3am, kika called pierre and he came and picked her up, along with charlotte since he had been hanging out with charles.
۵ at 3:30am, lily threw up once in the bathroom as you called alex, “hey! alexxxx!!!!” you spoke, holding lilys hair back for her.
۵ alex knew from your voice that you were calling because lily was too drunk to uber, he didn’t think that was safe. so he came and got her.
۵ kelly and laila left before at 1:30am, claiming they had work in the morning. so all that remained was you, isa, and carmen.
۵ lando had been pacing around the living room as oscar loaded up another game of call of duty, trying to get landos mind to ease up.
۵ finally, lando just left oscar at his house, grabbing his keys, a hoodie for you, some comfy uggs, and driving to the club to get you.
۵ after about twenty minutes of him resisting your attempts to get him to stay and drink, you were sat in the passenger seat of his mclaren as he drove home, his hoodie on you and your uggs now on, a nice change from the four inch heels you had on.
۵ oscar had left earlier, knowing that lando would just want to be alone with you and take care of you.
۵ when you arrived to the house, lando opened your door for you, helping you to the front door and taking you shoes off for you and helping you sit down on the couch.
۵ at first, you’re very drunk, slurring words and giggling, but once you calm down, you’re just tired, and you want your boyfriend.
۵ constant sweet guidance:
۵ “sit down, sweetheart. i’ll get you a water.”
۵ “take these advil for me, hm? can you do that? there you go, thank you, love.” and gives you a little forehead kiss as he goes and makes you toast.
۵ and when you need to throw up, lando is pattering his feet right behind you on the way to the bathroom.
۵ he holds your hair back in a make-shift ponytail, rubbing your back and whispering to you to try and soothe you.
۵ after that, he gets you more advil and puts it by the bed in case you need some when you wake up, as well as new ice water in your water bottle.
۵ he makes sure that you eat, even if it’s just dry cereal or some cheese cubes. the last thing he wants is you with an empty stomach and having the potential of being sick again :(
۵ when he crawls into bed, he turns your favorite show on as you cuddle into his side, playing with his hoodie strings as his hands comb through your hair.
۵ “how are you feeling, pretty girl?” lando would ask, looking down at you as you shrug, “m’ok. thank you for taking care of me lan.”
۵ lando would smile, “i love taking care of you, now let’s go to sleep. wake me up if you need anything, okay?” you nod
۵ ‘i love you’s are exchanged as you both fall asleep.
۵ all and all, lando is the most sweet, endearing, and protective bf, especially when you’re drunk. he just wants you to be safe, and make sure you are comfortable.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)
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lucvly · 6 months
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— boyfriend headcannons with matt. ⸰ 𖥔 ͙
warnings: the usual !! sfw and nsfw parts. not proofread my bad.
a/n: i love reqs helppp 😣 working on another one which actually involves writing as we Speak !! i had to reupload this because i forgot tags SORRY anon 💔
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— this man is obsessed with you. literally doesn’t even find any other women attractive. he has the biggest heart eyes for you it’s insane.
— adores hyping you up on instagram. he’s the type to reply “alr i saw it you can take it down now !!” when you post a story. your posts are filled with comments from him.
— he’s an absolute sucker for grand gestures. asked you to be his girlfriend by decorating your room with balloons !! goes all out on your anniversary (buys you a dress, gets you new jewelry, etc.)
— loves to color coordinate with you. whenever you two are going out or just seeing each other he calls you to match outfits. he thinks it’s the cutest (+ chris and nick tease him sooo bad for it)
— always gets you your go-to drinks. you’ll mention an iced latte once and he’s getting one for you every single day !! he’s so cute bye
— secretly loves it when you take pictures of him like a soccer mom LMAOO. he thinks it’s the cutest thing ever. you love taking pictures of him doing literally anything: driving, doing laundry, etc.
— loves sleeping on call with you. he absolutely adores hearing you rant about your day. + sleeping on call together him while he’s on tour and misses you so badly !! half of the call is just him complaining about how much he wishes he could see your face and kiss you.
— he may whine about how you’re stealing all his clothes and hoodies but secretly loves watching you in them.
— him driving is sooo attractive. he’s such a gentleman ughhh. this man will get out of the car and open the door for you, leans over and buckles your seatbelt, + always has his hand on your thigh.
— always kissing you. forehead kisses, neck kisses, cheek kisses, etc.
— soo good at comforting and reassuring you. he’s such a sweetheart it’s sickening !!!
— your personal driver. it’s 3 am and you wanna go out? call him and he’ll be there in 5. you’re drunk at a party and need a ride? your boyfriend’s there.
— replies to your texts at lightning speed it’s sooo embarrassing but cute !!
— updates you on everything that happens throughout his day.
— nsfw below!
— anytime you kiss him it ends up in a heated ass make out session. your hands softly pulling on his hair, his hands gripping your waist as you ever so slightly grind on his hardening cock !! lollll !!
— he leans more towards the gentler side in bed. cute pet names, makes it All about you and your pleasure– (though he loves it when you give him head).
— howeverrrr, he can definitely get mean during sex. i’m talking manhandling, shoving your face into the pillow, dirty talk. (“too big— i can’t–,” “i don’t care, you can take it. i’ll make it fit.”)
— loves it when you overstimulate him. it’s his favorite thing ever. have fun watching him squirm, hearing him moan and whimper your name.
— begs you to sit on his lap. he adores it. stroking your hair, kissing your neck, his hands on your waist as he tries his hardest to not grind his hips up or simply just fuck you senseless.
— he’s vocal. whimpering out loud, begging, groaning, grunting. all of it.
— extremely good at aftercare. he’ll immediately clean you up, get a bottle of water for you, cuddle, talk, anything you want and he’s completely at your service.
— he’s such a secret pervert !!! cannot see you in a skirt because he’s already hard. showing a bit of cleavage? hard. sees you in a bathing suit? it is over for him. he needs you.
— cockwarming him while he’s gaming <333. he’s all for it. one time you two made a bet that consisted on making the other crack first. spoiler alert: you ended up with your moans being muffled by a pillow because you just couldn’t let him finish his game, could you?
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cheriladycl01 · 2 months
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Could you do fic for Kimi Raikkonen with wife reader where she and their child being passenger prince and princess and he just brought them everywhere they want to go just to spend time together? Just something fluff and romantic. Tag me later. Thanks!!
All my time - Kimi Räikkönen x Wife! Reader + Child
Plot: You and your son, want to go shopping but of course you need your big manly husband to drive and escort you round the shops and carry your bags for you. And who is he to say no…
Credit to invisibleicewands for the GIF
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"Baby, me and Arvo want to go shopping" you say to your husband and you dress up your little boy. You had him in a little racing jacket that Fernando's Kimoa line had made for him.
"Mmmmm!" he nods, watching the football on the TV not having actually taken in what you said.
"Hunny, I said we are going shopping!" you smile, patting at his arm a little to grab his attention more.
"Oh! I'll grab the keys then!" he nods turning the TV off and going to the kitchen counter. He grabs the keys to his car, before grabbing the snack bag.
He pulls you into a soft kiss before jogging down to the steps.
He goes to the car before you and your son Arvo setting up for the pair of you. He adds your blanket that he always kept in the boot of the car to the front seat and another one in the back by the car seat for your son.
He brings forward the water bottles and then puts the bag of snacks he grabbed in the footwell.
"Come on Arvo" you ask nicely as the toddler kicks at his shoes that he didn't want to put on.
"Mummy will buy you some new dinosaurs, yeah?" you ask looking down at him and he nods letting you slip the trainer on. You help him into it them and he grabs your hand. You walk to the garage opening the back door of the car, lifting him up into his car seat.
"Which Dinosaur will you get today?" you ask as you start to loop his arms through the double cross seat belt.
"Biggg Grrrrr" he says making some hand gestures that didn't look like anythi ng specific, just waving them around.
"Gonna get a scary one yeah. We'll have to make room on your shelf or daddy will have to put a new one in!" you smile as you finally buckle him up.
"I want cars too" he asks looking at you and you nod before kissing his forehead.
You jog round the front of the car, lifting the blanket up before sliding in and putting the blanket over you before crossing your seatbelt over and clicking it in place.
"Lets go!" you smile. You wrap the blanket tighter around you, Kimi's hand goes under the blanket just to place it gently on your thigh. He drives round the streets with one hand on the wheel and another on your leg.
You sip on your drink making light conversation with both Kimi and Arvo. Asking them what they had in mind for today, Arvo asking to go for ice-cream and the park. Kimi quietly asked if you could go to a sports bar to watch the race that started at 5pm.
You really wanted to go into Reiss to get the new x Mclaren line. You'd been a Mclaren fan, even when you first met Kimi you were a Mclaren fan, and you worked with them when you were younger as a PR manager before you met Kimi.
You guys went to the shopping center, Kimi and Arvo walked around watching as you picked stuff out that you wanted. Kimi held onto every bag you had from every store while you held hands with Arvo, he of course was a mummy's boy.
After lots of shopping, you and Kimi it would be best to tire Arvo out as much as possible before you went to the sports bar so he could sleep well.
When you pull up to the park, you'd grabbed the back of snacks, while Kimi took your son out letting him down softly onto the gravel. He opens the boot grabbing the blanket, football and emergency bag to take with him.
You take a walk around the lake that centered the park, Arvo was fascinated by the wildlife around him. He watched as the swans gilded through the water and when Kimi held him close enough to the water screeched in delight when his sight caught onto the large fish in there.
Halfway on the walk, Arvo had seen a bright pink ice-cream stand that immediately drew his interest in. He tried to run ahead of you and Kimi, but his father was quick to scoop him up onto his shoulder and hold him up there as you all went to get the frozen dessert.
You found a place to lay the blanket down and enjoy your ice-cream while it was still cold and un-melted.
Luckily Kimi had brought wipes with him, which with a toddler with a messy eating style was widely worth it and you both wiped around his chocolatey mouth getting rid it all.
The afternoon was spent you lounging around on the blanket reading a book Kimi had made sure to pack for you while he played football with your son. You sometimes gazed up looking at the pair, both flushed from the activeness of what they were doing.
As it started to get colder Kimi could tell you were starting to feel it and your son was getting sleepy. You decided to make the walk back to the park entrance. Kimi once again taking your son on his shoulders bouncing him every now and then making a small yet tired giggle reply.
You strapped him in the car while Kimi packed away, you tucked your boy under a blanket giving him his Dino teddy he so conveniently named Lando after his favorite driver.
You came in meeting Kimi at the same time both setting up for the drive to the bar, Arvo sleeping the whole way and being such a good boy. He was never a problem for you or Kimi, it really made you both want to try for another.
As you got to the bar, you and Kimi quietly woke up Arvo who had a newfound energy from his power nap in the back of the car able to watch the race.
He loved F1, and even though he was a little too young for karting rn, Kimi desperately wanted to coach his son. You all watched on, Arvo getting excited whenever the orange cars came up on screen.
Some people in the bar as per usual recognized you guys, however all remained respectful just happy to be watching a race with and F1 icon.
After the night was all wrapped up with a Redbull win and a double Mclaren podium that made you very very happy, Kimi drove you all home. Exhausted from the day both you and your son had fallen asleep on the car ride home.
And Kimi, he couldn't be happier with his life and his passenger princess and prince.
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo
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viennakarma · 7 months
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Satisfaction [Part 1]
Lewis Hamilton x reader
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Summary: Four times you tried to befriend Lewis, and one time you didn't.
Word count: 2.1k
Tags: female!reader, asshole!Lewis (he will get better), physiotherapist!reader, no romance yet, Lewis is being rude, reader is trying, cursing, a bit angsty, not beta read
Note: Lewis is being kind of an asshole, but I promise he will grovel a lot. This is a two part story. Gentle reminder that english is not my first language (so please bear any mistake), I'm also taking requests for F1 drabbles and oneshots (at this moment I'm writing for Lewis, Fernando, Max and Toto Wolff).
Find me on Twitter!
I.
You drank the rest of your iced tea in one gulp, pushing the nervousness away. It wasn't exactly anxiety, but more first-day jitters at a new job. Adjusting your ponytail, you stood up as one of the team approached.
“Y/N? It's a pleasure to meet you, I'm Ellie from the HR team, we spoke on the phone. Lewis is around, so we thought we’d introduce you two now, okay?”
“Of course, of course, it’s nice to meet you, Ellie.”
Ellie showed you around, giving you a tour of the entire motorhome. You were aware that it was difficult to join a team after the season had already started, especially to take the place of a person who was very loved by everyone and who had been there for several years, but you were willing to do your best to get along with everyone.
Finally, Ellie took you to a training room, where Lewis was inside. He was sitting in an armchair, drinking water from a bottle when Ellie introduced the two of you. You smiled and offered your hand for a shake, but he just ignored his hand with a blank stare.
“Lewis, this is Y/N Y/L/N, your new physical therapist, you'll be seeing each other every other day” Ellie introduced them, not seeming to notice the cold way Lewis greeted you.
“Nice to meet you,” you murmured, trying to ignore the awkwardness between the two of you. Lewis just nodded his head briefly and turned to pay attention to his own cell phone.
Ellie then went over your entire routine for the next few weeks, as well as giving you a short guide to Lewis's physiotherapy sessions over the past two years, and required exercises from fitness to pre-race and post-race.
Your official working day began the following Tuesday at seven in the morning at one of the Mercedes workstations in Brackley, where the entire team was gathered. You needed to be there to look after Lewis' fitness as he had team meetings, and you needed to follow him wherever he went to be able to do your job. Honestly, it wasn't a big problem since you used to work with the Real Madrid football team, so you were used to the traveling routine.
As soon as you entered the building's small gym, Lewis was already inside, tying the laces on his shoes.
"Good morning!" You walked in with a smile, setting your bag aside and holding the two glasses of iced tea you had purchased on the way, “the weather is kind of warm today, huh? I bought iced tea for both of us.”
“No thanks,” Lewis said, standing up, “can we get started?”
The sharp tone left you speechless for a moment, but you soon recovered, tying your hair into a ponytail. You had hoped that the mood on the day you met Lewis was just because he was stressed or had some problem on that specific day. But it seems that today he also wasn’t very interested in being polite to you.
You took a deep breath pulling your iPad out of the bag where you had prepared the day's entire session. Okay, you were patient, you could win him over with time and maybe you could even become friends, or at the very least, on friendly terms.
“Alright, let’s start today’s session with some intense stretching to prepare your body for the intensity of the next few days’ sessions,” you murmured, pointing to the mat on the floor.
“Angela didn't use an iPad during our sessions,” he commented casually.
“Because Angela had been with you for years and had already memorized her exercises. Can we start?"
II.
“Hey, I’m sorry I’m late,” you said, entering the gym, plopping your bag on a nearby table.
“You could have a little more respect for other people’s time,” Lewis said, suddenly. You froze in place, your eyes fleeting to the watch high on the wall, that showed you were barely ten minutes late for the session.
“Yes, I’m sorry,” you repeated, pulling your iPad open.
You were a few weeks into your new job, and acquaintanceship with Lewis had not gone better in the slightest. If anything, it had gone even worse. Lewis was adamant in not opening up to you, not even in the professional sense of your work relationship. Every time you tried small talk, or even professional talk, he had shut you out barely politely. He was constantly annoyed by your presence, and didn’t engage in anything other than the exercises you were helping him with. You noticed his performance was going bad in the season, and you attributed his bad mood solely to that. That’s why you usually brushed off his rude remarks and his questioning of the quality of your work.
“We’ll do core strength today, Lewis.”
You spent the next two hours walking him through every exercise you had for the day. Sometime during your session, you tried to help him fix his posture by pressing a hand on his shoulder, but he brushed you off, only saying he was able to do it himself.
By the end of your session, he was visibly tired, and you reached in your purse to your small stock of protein bars. You grabbed two and tossed one to Lewis. He caught it in the air, staring at it with a frown.
“It’s a protein bar. It is healthy, vegan, and doesn’t taste like cardboard, for once,” you giggled, trying to strike up conversation, “honestly, I found this small brand from Hungary out of sheer luck and my life hasn’t been the same ever since, now I just order like this crazy-”
“Are we done?” He cut you off, you stopped smiling.
“What?” you said, staring at him going to his bag.
“Is our session done?” he insisted.
“Yes,” you said, deflated. Lewis walked away, and on his way to the door, he dropped the little protein bar you gave him in the trash.
You felt a lump in your throat, defeated. You had never had a client so difficult to deal with. Most of them were usually standoffish in the beginning, but they became friends with time, some of them you had a great relationship even now, years later.
Lewis just- he just hated you for apparently no reason, and it was making your professional life pure hell. It was hard not bonding with someone you work so physically close with. And honestly, you had tried everything in the book to help him acclimate to you, but he was just- immune. He didn’t like you, you had no idea if he even liked your job because he refused to give you any feedback whatsoever.
You refused to go to HR because it would make you look like a kid throwing a tantrum because the other kid doesn’t like you. What would HR do? Force Lewis to tolerate you? He would probably hate you more if that happened.
You just sighed, swallowing the tears as you left.
III.
“I was considering adding pilates sessions once a week, we can do reformer and clinical pilates alternating” you told Lewis as he did the final stretching of the session.
“I don’t like sudden changes in my exercise routine,” he said, getting up.
“Well, I believe it would do you good. And we can start slowly for you to adapt better. Does every other week work for you?” You taped your schedule on the iPad.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he muttered, visibly annoyed now.
“I can forward you a few articles I have been reading to show you, why I think it-”
“No, I don’t want that,” he shut you off completely, “can I go now?”
You sighed, enough was enough. You were pissed at him, being difficult, being annoying, fucking up your routine by being rude and being a fucking asshole.
“No, you can’t,” you said, voice firm, which kind of surprised him, since it was the first time you ever used that tone with him, “what is your fucking problem?”
“What are you talking about?” He folded his arms.
“What is your problem with me? Is it something I did? Or maybe something I said?” You pressed, walking towards him, the closest you have ever been to him.
“I have no problem with you,” he said and you scoffed, “we are not friends, you’re just my physiotherapist, nothing more, nothing less.”
You felt grateful he left as soon as he said that, otherwise he would have seen the tears filling your eyes.
IV.
“I went back to therapy, because I’m feeling like a failure,” you told Angela over the phone.
“Is he being so difficult?” She asked, sounding worried.
“You have no idea…” you whispered, pressing your temples.
“You want me to talk to him?” Angela said, concerned. You stared at your own reflection in the mirror inside the gym, seeing the dark circles under your eyes from lack of sleep. The last encounter with Lewis was enough to take a toll on your mental health and trigger a bit of insomnia.
“No, I think it would make it worse, but I appreciate the offer,” you sighed, exhausted, “I’ll work around these difficulties, and if it gets any worse, I’ll call you so you can talk to him. Deal?”
“Deal. Just- Don’t burn yourself out, ok? I know how he can be hard to deal with. Let me know if you need anything.” Angela offered, and you wanted to cry with the kindness in her voice.
“Yes, of course. Thank you very much for letting me vent, yeah? Talk to you later” You said, and noticed how Lewis entered the gym, seemingly surprised that you even were there.
That would make two of you.
This time you went through your training session in complete silence, only talking about his physicality and the exercises. You didn’t joke with him, nor did you make commentaries on the session. You just did your job silently, staring at him with a blank face.
As you finished, you packed your bag and left without a word, going straight to HR to put in your resignation letter you had written during your day off.
V.
Lewis noticed your absence as soon as he entered the gym for your session. You hadn’t been late ever since that time he called you out the first and only time you were late. Since then, you were always there when he arrived. But you weren’t there and he felt something was off. Maybe you had a cold or something and HR forgot to tell him.
He walked up to Ellie’s office, knocking lightly before entering.
“Hey there, Lewis! Can I help you?” She asked, putting away a few papers.
“Hey. Where is Y/N?” He asked, sitting down.
“Oh, I thought she had told you… She resigned two days ago.” With Ellie’s words, Lewis felt his stomach drop, but Ellie just continued talking, “she said she didn’t adapt very well to the routine, which is sad considering she is such a big fan of Mercedes and Formula 1. And, you know, since she was a recommendation from Angela Cullen, I really thought she would fit perfectly with the team.”
Lewis felt his mouth go dry. He didn’t know any of this. He didn’t know you were a fan of the team, as he didn’t know Angela had put you in her own position after leaving. He felt so, so bad, he was suddenly nauseous.
“Did she say exactly why she was leaving?” Lewis asked, heart beating in his ears.
“She said she wasn’t adapting to the traveling routine and it took a toll on her. She also apologized profusely, but I told her it was alright, it happens more often than she thinks.”
Lewis knew exactly the reason you left. He had made you go through living hell by being a stubborn asshole. You tried to befriend him, to be nice, to start small talk, to be kind and his only response to your attempts were flat out rudeness.
“Well, these things happen, right?” Ellie shrugged, sympathizing with you more than Lewis ever did. “So, while we find someone to fill her position, you’ll do your pre-race and post-race with George and his physiotherapist.”
Lewis didn’t hear any of the other stuff Ellie said, guilt eating up at him with such force he was out of breath. He didn’t even think before treating you that way, his brain just turned to that everytime he remembered he was alone now, that he had lost his best friend and confidante. Stress of the season had also caught up to him making him more irritable than ever.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered as he left Ellie’s office, he needed to do something.
He called your phone, but you had blocked him already.
“Fuck, I need to fix this.”
[Part 2]
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bluesidez · 25 days
Text
The Love Lab presents:
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One Bite for You, One Bite for Me
💗 THIS IS MY 100 200 300 FOLLOWER SPECIAL!
pairing: Miguel O’Hara x AFAB!Reader
summary: One of the things you and Miguel bond over is delicious food. One day, you notice that your clothes aren’t fitting like they used to. Miguel is there to remind you how beautiful you are.
content warning: established relationship but they’re not married, 18+ so MDNI, non-Spiderman Miguel, LOTS OF MENTIONS OF FOOD AND DRINKS, weight gain, cycles, insecurity about body, alcohol, body worship, unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up 🫵🏾), cunnilingus, lots of praise, a little Spanish (if wrong please lmk)
credit for art + dividers: Me! + @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
a/n: This is actually the first fic I wrote when my Miguel hyperfixation came back in full force. I based it off of this video and a comment saying that girls are usually the ones that gain weight super quick in a relationship. Please know that gaining weight is not a bad thing, especially in this story. Relationship weight can be positive and food is here to nourish your body! Also know that everyone’s body is different. Our bodies will react to things in different, unique ways. If you’re ever feeling icky about your weight/health, please take a step back, breathe, and know that you’re beautiful no matter what. There are also sources out there that can help you if your thoughts overpower your heart. Please don’t hesitate to seek help.
word count: 4.3k
To all my food-lovers and fellow plus-size girlies, kisses to you! You’re beautiful!
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SPRING 🥭
“Baby!”
You grinned as you heard Miguel’s shout from the front door. His voice had a giddy tilt as if he made a breakthrough in one of his projects.
“I was finally able to stop by the new Jamaican spot before they sold out and look what I got us,” Miguel says before he slides the take-out bags across the table. “Ribs, oxtails, rice and beans, mac, and your favorite…fried plantains!”
You quickly untie the bags, happy to have a break from your research paper, and immediately get hit with the smell of spices both sweet and savory. “Oh my god! That looks incredible.”
After frantically digging around for a plastic fork, you were finally able to pull a piece of meat off the oxtail. It looked mouth-watering and tender. One bite of the meat and you’re immediately groaning, slumped in your chair. You nod your head and scrunch your face, watching as the juice from the gravy soaks into the pieces of rice stuck at the bottom of the take-out plate.
“That is so fucking good, Mig. No wonder there’s never any combos left by the time you leave work.”
Miguel just watches you eat with a glint in his eyes, happy to see you so relaxed and enjoying the food. He reaches into the second bag, pulling out two bottles of juice, “And to make it better, I got their fruit juice, made fresh daily-”
“Passionfruit and mango flavor!” Your eyes got big as you jumped up and wrapped your arms around his neck. He knew how much of a juice fanatic you were, so this drink was just the cherry on top of the large ice cream sundae that was your generous boyfriend.
“Thank you, baby,” you giggled and gave his cheek a fat smooch. You patted his chest twice and moved back to set up the table, “Now, hurry and wash up so we can eat this before it gets cold! We’ve got shows to watch.”
“Entendido, I’ll be right back”
SUMMER 🍦
You and Miguel were walking hand in hand along the Cancun Hotel Zone, taking in all the sights. Miguel’s job had given him a promotion along with an extremely high bonus, so what better way to celebrate than to use his PTO and bring the love of his life on vacation?
Granted, the area you guys were currently in was a little touristy, borderline bougie, but it was all worth it when Miguel got to see your eyes light up as you watched the turquoise waves fade into white foam along the shoreline.
You wobbled a bit while clinging to Miguel’s side, a little tipsy from the frozen paloma you drank to pair with today’s lunch. It was a waterfront restaurant with a live band so the vibes were just right for a little bit of liquid fun.
The downside was that the two of you were supposed to meet up with Miguel’s family later that evening and while you were fine with the confidence boost you were sporting, you wanted to be more alert when speaking with loved ones. Plus, you needed to give a good impression to the relatives you hadn’t met yet. It will be nice to put a face to the names of Miguel’s childhood.
“What do you say we stop and get some ice cream?” Miguel suggested, chuckling at you when you grinned up at him, ecstatic over the proposed plan.
“You know me so well,” you said, arms reaching around his waist, face squished into the side of his chest. “I would absolutely love some ice cream. Cool me down from the inside.”
Miguel chuckled and kissed the top of your head. You were especially cute when you got like this.
FALL 🍕
“Baby, check this out,” Miguel shouted, finally returning to your table with your food.
The fair was packed full of people, especially due to the pop-up food truck festival happening that same week. You had never seen more people run to get fried turnip greens and loaded fries in your life.
Still, this was just another chance to hang out with Miguel. You really didn’t care where you went with him, as long as you got to see that pretty smile.
You look down at the table and see what he brought back. Before your eyes sat the most un-Miguel order ever: birria pizza and two walking tacos, one Hot Cheetos and the other Dorritos.
“Dorilocos, Miguel. Really?” you raised an eyebrow watching him try to steady the open chip bags over some spread-out napkins.
“Amor, don’t look at me like that! I had to get them because Gabriel kept talking my ear off about this new food truck that made them better than the ones we used to eat on our trips back home. I, for one, don’t believe that for a second, so what better way to test that theory than to eat it with my baby?” Miguel gave the saddest look he could muster and slid his hand across the table, trying to convince you to indulge with him.
“Fine, fine. Don’t give me that look,” you say, pulling off a slice of the pizza, making the cheese stretch as long as you can. “Just don’t complain to me from the bathroom while your stomach fights to digest something it hasn’t had in over a decade!”
Miguel pursed his lips while shoveling as much food as he could on one Doritto, “Shouldn’t I be the one telling you that? That’s a lot of cheese, babe.”
“Oh my god, some queso tears up my stomach one time and you can’t let that go, can you?”
“It was once and yet you were in agony about it for days. I think I’m allowed to remind you at least monthly.”
“Just eat your food and leave me and my iron stomach alone. We’ll see what happens between today and tomorrow,” you quip, pulling your phone out ready to record Miguel’s reaction to send to Gabriel.
Miguel takes a bite and just leans against the table, head slumped on his clean head.
“Dios mio, he was right. This can’t be happening,” he groaned, slightly annoyed that Gabriel wasn’t exaggerating. He was also shocked at the fact that someone even came close to getting the local snack right.
You giggled behind your phone, happy that his reaction worked in your favor. You zoomed in a little more on his face, capturing him smacking his lips and licking off excess sauce. He was so zoned in on his food that he didn’t even notice you with your phone up.
“Is it good, Mig?” you asked, mirth in your voice.
He looked at you ready to answer but his eyes snapped to your camera and started to whine, “Amor, please stop recording!”
With a small smile, you made sure to add the video to your folder full of Miguel. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You just look so cute, I couldn’t help it.”
Miguel just mumbled to himself while stacking up another chip, neck heated over the interaction. “Here, just try this,” he said, holding a nacho close to your mouth.
You opened your mouth, just barely getting the chip in. Cupping your hand under your head, you begin to hum, the flavors all tangy, spicy, and savory. “I don’t know what your childhood Dorilocos tasted like, but this is really freaking good.”
“Just know that this one is only slightly better. By 0.00001% to be exact,” he said, rubbing sauce off of the corner of your lips and licking it off. The movement was muscle memory for him as he always liked to watch your face when you ate food, especially when it came to any nostalgic or homecooked dishes you never tried before. It warmed his heart to see you find comfort in his favorite foods.
“Well, I can tell you it’s 100% better than the ‘Taco Tuesday’ luncheon my job hosted last month. Nothing but unseasoned ground beef, endless black olives, and store-bought guacamole for two hours,” you respond, shuddering at the memory of soppy taco shells and your coworkers complaining about how spicy the mild salsa was.
“On second thought, this is absolutely a step up. Was the guacamole name brand at least?” He asked, peering up at you with a twist on his lips.
“I’m pretty sure it was a grocery store brand, so no.”
“Damn.”
WINTER 🍫
You were at your apartment in your bed, completely covered under the comforter with a fluffy blanket on top.
It was snowing heavily outside and you were freezing. However, your heater tended to make your apartment feel like a sauna, so you kept snatching the blanket off only to put it back on minutes later. Plus, your cycle was here. Your cramps left you lying on your side, rolling back and forth between the cool side of the bed and the warm side.
Physically, you were exhausted, but mentally, you knew you had so much to get done.
Christmas was just around the corner but you still had so many presents left to buy and wrap. Your job was doing the dreaded Secret Santa gift exchange and you were stuck wondering what gift would appeal to the stuck-up director in the accounting department.
You and Miguel were also hosting a small Christmas party amongst your friends, and there was still food left to buy. To top it all off, you were worried about your gift for Miguel, wondering if a silly little apron saying “Kiss me, I’m Irish” would hide the fact that you spent a ridiculous amount of money on some new tech he was eyeing.
You heard the apartment door open and close.
Knowing it was Miguel, you groan out dramatically.
He opens the bedroom door and peaks inside, “Baby?”
You just groan out again, “Everything hurts, Miggy.”
He comes up to bed and sits on the edge, “I know, amor. I’m sorry.” He bends down to kiss your head. “Want me to plug up the heat pack?”
“Yeah,” you say, leaning into his hands. When he gets up to grab the pack, you whine at his absence.
“I know, I know. I’m coming back,” he says, voice soothing.
Instead of turning the pack on, he removes your covers and sits back down on the edge. You shiver a little bit and he’s quick to cover your body with his, rubbing the top of your head as he kisses your temple.
“Are you feeling too bad to eat something for me?” Miguel asks, the timber of his voice settling you.
You shake your head and lean in closer to him.
“I think I want some food,” you reply, squeezing his body. “I haven’t eaten anything yet.”
Miguel tuts as he sits up and pulls you up with him, “That’s no good, baby. You have to eat so you can feel better. Your body needs it.”
You groan again and put your face in his neck, not wanting to move.
“Come on,” Miguel says, rubbing you from your back to your leg. “I got you some soup and a grilled cheese.”
“Did you get the stuff for the hot chocolate bar? For the party?” you whisper.
“Mm hm. Jumbo marshmallows included.”
You nuzzle his neck before you look at him, “Carry me to the kitchen?”
He makes a swift move to wrap your legs around his body and hike you up.
He gets up and holds you close, heading to the kitchen, “Let’s get some food in you, yeah?”
SPRING 🍇
The short spring break trip that Miguel surprised you with has been lovely. Miguel woke you with kisses down your body, taking you to the hilt with his mouth alone. You had to muffle your cries as to not disturb the neighbors in the inn. As his tongue danced inside of you, you gripped his hair with one hand and his head with your thighs. Miguel wouldn’t want it any other way.
After his first course, Miguel treated you to breakfast on the balcony. You two enjoyed looking over the horizon as you ate yogurt parfaits and fluffy omelets.
Later on, the two of you enjoyed a few tours of the vineyard and the city. The sights were beyond compare and the atmosphere was serene.
“Thank you so much for this Miguel,” you say, interrupting the silence.
“Anything for my lady,” he says back. “You’re doing great work this semester so you need the break.” Miguel stopped and turned to you, wrapping his arms around your waist.
You leaned up and kissed him, hands warm on the sides of his face.
You both started to makeout for so long that Miguel forgot about the massage he had planned for you before tonight’s farm-to-table dinner.
Needless to say, he laid you out on your bed and oiled your body down. Your head was in your arms as rubbed his hands up and down your back. His hands were heaven and you felt like puddy by the time he flipped you over.
After he massaged your inner thighs he pounded you into the mattress. Something you’re sure the hired masseuse would never be able to do.
Miguel joked and called it the Miguel Magic Massage when you asked if he offered this special regularly. The price? Being his cariño, his amor, his sweetheart.
By the time dinner started, you were glowing. You felt adored and the courses were amazing.
Miguel made sure everyone knew you were his. His hand never left your thigh the entire meal, staring down the older men sitting at the end table who were looking a little too long at the dip of your dress.
You were oblivious, feeding Miguel bites occasionally and humming at how fresh and delicious everything was.
After the last course was over, the men came to you all’s side of the table quickly. All of them started to make conversation with you, plugging in their businesses, and stuffing their business cards in your hands.
It was as if Miguel was invisible. He scowls deeper when they let out hearty laughs at something you said.
“Are you fellas here with your wives?” Miguel asked loudly, completely irritated. “My wife and I have really enjoyed our time here. It’s a beautiful place for couples.”
Some of the men went red in the face flustered at Miguel catching their scheme. Others just scowled, pissed off at being interrupted.
None of them could answer his question.
You looked at Miguel, eyes heavy and relaxed.
“You gentlemen have a great night,” you said, putting your hand in Miguel’s as he guided you to the exit.
“Your wife, huh?” you asked, core on fire. It was hot watching Miguel get so worked up over you.
“Baby, they were looking at you like you were some fresh meat. Like I wasn’t even sitting there,” he grumbled.
“One of them already offered to bring me on a cruise. He’s staying right next to us,” you say, standing outside your room as Miguel swipes his card at the door. You walked your fingers up his chest, heated over the grit you could see from his profile.
He was oh so upset.
“He’s next to us? Right here?” Miguel asked, voice low.
You nodded as you bit your lip, arm around his neck.
Miguel picked you up and dragged you to the bed. You giggled a little to yourself as he plopped you down. Mission accomplished. Silently, you thank those older men. If it weren’t for their overconfidence, Miguel wouldn’t have been tearing at your clothes like he us right now.
Miguel kept you up almost that whole night, making sure that the neighbors heard your cries. Those old geezers were sure to know his name by the next morning. Buying you a ring wasn’t enough. He needed a bat.
It was all worth it to see the tired and flushed looks of their faces when you all checked out the next day.
SUMMER 🍯
“What the fuck,” you mumble, looking down at the pair of jeans you were trying to put on.
It was early morning. You had a family reunion that you and Miguel would take a bit of a drive to get to.
You made sure that everything was packed the following night. Some clothes to stay for a few days, a few snacks for the road, a book for you to catch up on, and even a crossword puzzle book for Miguel.
You planned ahead. You were diligent. So why is it that when everything else is going right, your pants decide not to button up?
You pulled at the flaps once more, trying your hardest to connect the button with the hole. It fails as they slip from your grasp. You try again, sucking in your stomach as much as you could. You get the button to snap in this time, but it’s digging unbearably into your skin. The zipper fights against you as you try to pull it up.
You huff out in frustration and the pants snap open again.
Defeated, you let out a watery sigh and look in the mirror.
Your stomach was bigger than you last remembered, fupa a little more prominent. Your thighs were also a little thicker, the jeans hugging them a little tight. Your breasts looked a little big in your shirt. The family name stretches a bit more across your bust than the original design intended. Even your face was a little chubbier than normal. When was the last time your jaw was like this? High school?
When did you get like this?
You felt your throat start to burn, a sob building in your system. You’ve always been fine with your body, loving the dips and curves. Adoring your flaws and finding beauty in what society decides is not worthy.
You knew this. You knew that you were beautiful. Why was it so hard to get that thought into your conscience?
You felt the tears roll down as you peeled the jeans off of your legs. They were especially tight at your hips and you wondered how you even forced them past in the first place.
You didn’t know what to do. It was so hot outside, so you needed something comfortable, but those jeans…you had your mind set to wear those jeans.
You rummage through your closet in frustration, pushing and pulling the clothes across the rack.
By the time Miguel found you, you were squatting in the closet, hot tears covering your face.
“Babe, it’s been almost 30 minutes and we need to head out before the work traffic starts-”
Miguel stopped in the doorway as he noticed the state of the closet, “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? ¿Que pasó, cariño?”
You wipe furiously at your face, sniffling loud as you hear Miguel push clothes to the side to get to you.
“My pants don’t fit. I don’t think anything else will fit either,” you say, stuttering out your words as Miguel gets to your side.
You let him pull you up into a standing position. You felt defeated.
Miguel looked at you and wiped away the tears that you missed. You feel horrible as your face scrunches up again, tears forming in your eyes.
“No, no, no,” Miguel says, hugging you close. “Listen to me. I know that this feels like a lot, but this is normal. Your body will always change with you. You’re still the same beautiful, gorgeous woman I met years ago and that’s not changing because you got some extra hips, baby.”
“But Miguel,” you say, voice so sad. “I feel like I just got those pants. And. Nothing else in here goes with this shirt. I’m scared that nothing else will fit-”
“And if that’s the case, I’ll buy you new clothes,” Miguel says, pressing kisses over your face. “If these clothes mean that much to you, I’ll take you to the gym. Let me work out with you, but until then, I’m loving your body as is.”
You stare at Miguel, heart beating at his revelation. He stared right back at you, daring you to question or challenge his words.
“Don’t beat yourself up over something like this. If anyone has ever let you feel insecure about your body, they’re an ass, let me deal with them. If I ever do anything to make you feel insecure, tell me. Yell at me. Question me, because as far as I’m concerned, that’s not me.”
He hiked you up on the closet island in the middle of the room. You shiver a bit as your naked legs hit the wood.
He leans closer, placing his hands on the side of you, “Now, let’s think. Don’t you have a pair of cargo shorts that match the ones I’m wearing right now?”
You whisper out a yes.
“Would you be ok with wearing those? I’m sure they fit perfectly.”
You say yes again, head leaning onto his. You could accessorize it perfectly. It would make a great couple’s look.
Miguel knew this much, he just had to get you to see it.
“I love you, ok?” he says, voice clear.
“I love you, too. Thank you,” you say.
“Anything for my girl,” Miguel says. “My beautiful girl. She’s just for me. I can’t believe it.”
Your heart beats faster as he starts to kiss down your body.
“Her face is so lovely.” A kiss to your cheek and your lips.
“She’s always working so hard.” A kiss to your neck and your collarbone. He pulls your shirt over your head.
“She makes me so happy.” A suck to your breasts as he unclasps your bra.
“Her body is beyond comparison.” A trail of kisses down your stomach, your belly twitching as his breath twinkles on along your skin. “Soft. Amazing. Irresistible.”
“Her thighs are my earmuffs.” A caress to your inner thighs. Your legs snap a bit, ticklish at his ministrations.
“Miguel?” you whimper out.
“I have to relax you before this ride. Can’t have you upset,” he says, kissing his way up your thighs to your panties. “May I?”
You nod your head, fingers grasping at nothing but then a flat surface.
Miguel was swift. He pulled your underwear down and kissed at your clit. You could only hold tight as he pulled your body forward and dove in.
It wasn’t long before you were shaking like a leaf. Miguel sucked at you for minutes, pulling a long orgasm out of your system.
He kneaded your thighs as you trembled around his tongue, humming as your legs squeezed tighter. That was the queue for him to go further, so he added his fingers to the mix, moving his mouth up so that his fingers could pump in and out of you.
It took all of your strength not to let your body drop off the other side of the island.
“Miggy, please,” you wailed. You wanted more.
Miguel looked up at you whining above him. You pull your legs up, holding your hands under your thighs, practically begging for him.
Miguel kissed up your body again. He was swift with removing his clothes. You still had to have these clothes fresh for later and Miguel was about to wear you out.
He moved to push himself inside of you, grunting as you gripped him.
He replaced your hands with his and pulled your legs up by his head. You balanced yourself on the island as he slowly started to thrust.
“So good. Just for me,” Miguel said, watching as your body moved with his movement. “Perfect. And all mine.”
You remained quiet, whimpering softly as he dragged against you.
“You heard me, hermosa?” Miguel said. “You’re beautiful. C’mon. Say it for me.”
“I’m,” you stopped, mind foggy. You didn’t know how you were supposed to respond when he was going so deep.
“Say it.”
You cried out as he snapped harder, “I’m beautiful.”
“That’s right baby,” Miguel praises you, bending further to give you a kiss. “So amazing.”
He praised you until you finished, squeezing at any of you that he got his hands. By the time he was done, your arms felt like jelly from holding you up.
He carried you to the bathroom for a quick shower, never stopping his reassurances of you.
You guys made it in the car an hour and a half off schedule, but it was worth it for the uplifted way you carried yourself throughout the day.
It was worth it to see you happy and healthy.
By the time you made it to the reunion, it was like you were born anew. You greeted your family with smiles and laughter. Miguel couldn’t help but to cheese watching you do your thing.
He felt his heart soar as you caught up with family. Your smile was the biggest as you were out on the floor line dancing your heart out. He was right up behind you when Outstanding came on. The song was really a declaration of how he felt about you.
You giggled as he crooned in your ear.
“You light my fire,” he sang, swinging your hips in time with his.
“I feel alive with you, baby,” he spins you around to him, a smile on his face.
“You blow my mind,” he pulled you out and back in.
“I’m satisfied,” you squeal as he spins you in the air and puts you back down to keep dancing.
Outstanding. You really knock him out.
Another season where Miguel adored you more.
Another season where Miguel wanted you to be forever his.
Another season where he made sure he fed you well.
Another season of you making his heart pound.
Another season of your love reaching to the fullest.
Miguel was excited for the next season with you.
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As always, I hope you enjoyed reading! 💗
Any likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated. Let me know how you feel! 🥺🧁
Until next time,
-Lauro 💗
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erwinsvow · 2 months
Text
thinking about being rafe’s new stepsister—your mom marries his dad and you move to tannyhill right before summer starts. at first he doesn’t care about it at all, doesn’t even talk about it with wheezie n sarah, more annoyed than anything that he has to deal with yet another girl in the house.
then he sees that you’re real pretty, shy and sweet the way he likes, never talking back to anyone, always doing what you’re told. he thinks he could have fun with you, the way you get so pleased with he actually volunteers to drive you around and give you a quick tour of the island. you were gonna go ride around on your bike but there’s a nail in the tire. rafe tells you “get your ass in the truck, kid, i’ll show you around.” you leave your useless bike where it is and so he ends up taking (really more parading) you around, showing you the beach and the country club and the good ice cream shops.
he thinks he’s going to have a good time trying to get into your bed, that it’ll take some sweet talking and latent touches and his devilishly handsome smile to urge you into thinking that this is a good thing, that you should want to be spend such quality time with your new big brother. rafe thought it would be such fun… until he ends up wrapped around your little finger!
he doesn’t realize when exactly it happened, somewhere in between driving you to the kook parties and feeling mildly irritated when he sees you talking to some boy and then feeling beyond ecstatic when you abandon the conversation to talk to rafe instead, the sulking boy taking off the second he sees rafe walking over to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. that boy thinks the two of you are dating, and when you do nothing to quell that idea, he starts feeling like he’s never felt before.
the pair of you leave from the party when you want to leave, despite his friends telling him how early it is and that they had people lined up to buy. what you say, goes, and so he takes you to get ice cream after leaving and the two of you eat it in his car in the parking lot, and before long, this is happening every other day. walks on the beach after dinner with the rest of your new family, midnight runs to get snacks when you get hungry—first you’d knock on his door or send him a text but now you two are basically together until midnight every night anyways, so it doesn’t take more than a tug of his arm to get his attention.
“shit, kid, got me running in circles for your crap-” he’ll tell you when he comes back to tannyhill with take out from one place for the two of you to share for dinner and drinks from another place, the new water bottle you wanted in yet another bag, but you had asked rafe so sweetly to pick it up for you, he couldn’t find it in him to disappoint you and say refuse.
in front of the others, it’s all pg-rated, movies on the couch sharing a blanket, but once they’re out of eyesight you lean against rafe and he holds you like a boyfriend would, carries you to bed when you fall asleep and gets in right beside you. presses a kiss to your forehead and says “sleep tight baby, m’right here” in his sleepy, low voice and you feel like you’re in heaven.
one time ward comes to wake you up and your bed is empty, and he goes to rafe’s room to ask if you went out last night after the two of you left to get dessert—which was really just an hour of making out in the backseat of his truck and returning before anyone got suspicious—and he sees you sleeping in there and just is speechless and about to get so angry at rafe. but you jump in and lie to his face, saying you saw a spider that disappeared and couldn’t sleep in there so you just came straight to rafe’s room because he was awake. (ward half believes it, rafe tells you he loves you right after he walks out because you defended him without a second of hesitation.)
it’s really funny because he really did just want to see if he could get into your panties but he’s so whipped for you now—feels like you get him and support him and clear up some of the fogginess in his brain. you keep him out of trouble and you’re good for him, and he’s trying hard to be a good boyfriend to you, even though he’s not your boyfriend, could never be your boyfriend.
drives you up to norfolk for a weekend trip—you lie and say your friends are meeting up there and rafe offers to take you since you don’t drive much (you don’t drive anywhere because rafe takes you everywhere). your mom happily agrees while ward is suspicious, still, but doesn’t voice anything since he doesn’t want your mom to worry. takes you on a real date, where he can hold you by the waist and kiss you and do anything he wants since no one knows you two.
books a cute hotel by the water and fucks you for the first time there, because he’d once thought getting caught only added to the appeal of seducing you, but now it just makes his blood run cold. you don’t care, though, and you tell him as much—that no one in the cameron family could make you stop seeing him unless you decided other wise. after all you knew that would be a part of the deal when you decided you had to make your new step brother yours until any circumstances and stuck that nail in your bike’s wheel so you could find an excuse to spend time with rafe.
that night in the hotel he holds you close and talks quietly to the ceiling, to you, to no one in particular since he thinks you’re asleep.
“don’t have to worry about getting caught, baby. i’ll just marry you and then no one can tell us what to do. just wait until we get back, then it’ll be fine, ‘jus us two forever, hm?”
<3
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pocketsizedq · 3 months
Text
The ways they show affection
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Lukas Dostal
-wakes you up with coffee
->come into your guys shared room.
->place a few kisses on your head helping you sit up handing you coffee either from your favorite place or some made at home if you are up when he’s getting ready for practice
-giving you all of his attention
->always loves to hear about your day or any new gossip you have learned
->would never tell you that he loves hearing the gossip but just loves seeing your eyes light up as you tell him all that’s going on at work
-always orders food if you say no
->He always makes sure to get extra food so you can have some too and that you never getting hungry and not have some food at home
-takes you to skate
->he loves skating with you as it’s his to favorite things and you both can just enjoy being on the ice together and can talk about things
-always text you reminds about things
->oh you’ve got a doctor appointment? He’s already texted you remind you. Have you drink any water today? Did you take your medicine? I love you.
->thoses are some of the things he would text you
Jamie Drysdale
- wearing a simple bracelet around his wrist for when you get nervous
->he’d notice how you would play with his fingers or like play with his arm hair when you are nervous so started wearing a bracelet around his wrist so you could play with it.
-always stands up for you
-whether it be you getting uncomfortable in a conversation or not wanting to face conflict. He’d get out of his way and push past his own anxiety to help you.
-deep conversations
->he loves when you both can just sit on the porch drinking a new bottle of wine he had gotten and talk about the future of your relationship or how you both are feeling mentally
-always does something out of the blue
->writing little letter to you,sending little voice messages about how much he loves you or taking you out on a random date
-complimenting you
->he always makes sure to compliment you everyday to make sure you know you are loved and special to him
Cole Caufield
-lets you wear his shoes when your heels get uncomfortable
->you both would be walking out of a club or something and he’d notice that your feet would start to bother you so he kindly offers you his shoes to which he has to insist on
->he would carry your heels and walk barefoot with you back to the car happy that you aren’t in pain
->he never would say no to traded shoes as he just wants you to be comfortable
-wears a bracelet you made him around his wrist
->he nearly cried when he found out you made him a little bracelet out of some of your old beads you had
->never takes it off as it’s a good luck charm now and always kisses it before putting it back on his wrist to go play a game
-always buys you alittle something every where he goes
->if he’s playing an away game he’d go and buy you something like a charm or something in the city that reminds you of the city he went to
-always reassuring you
->if you ever feel insecure? He’s your hype man
->always makes sure that your smiling around him and always tries to keep that frown upside down
-always tries to keep things positive around you
->he’s your sunshine. if you ever down he tries to pick you back up and wipe you off. Always makes sure your happy wither it’s cracking a joke or making a fool of himself always tries to keep a smile on your face
Adam Fantilli
-keeping a pad/tampon in his wallet for you
->always has one of him if you ever need it. he keeps both in there as he never remembers what you use but just keeps it on him
-spraying his cologne on your teddy bear when he has to leave
->he had gotten you a teddy bear with a umich shirt on it and he sprays it so you can cuddle it and know he loves you
->it even has a button on it that you can press and it says “I love you princess”
-wears a dog tag around his neck that has “I love you” engraved in your hand writing on it
->never takes it off and always wears it. You had gotten it for his 19th birthday and now calls it his lucky charm
-has a playlist made for you
->he had a made a playlist of songs that would remind you of him and that remind you that he’s all ways there for you and loves you.
-lets you rant
->he even if he has something big coming up would stay up with you after a game to listen to all of the stuff that is bothering you or is coming up.
Luca Fantilli
-kissing you every time you pout
->he’d jokely say no to something like going to get ice cream and you’d put on a fake pout to which he’d kiss and say “I’m just kidding baby”
->every time he sees even a small pout on your lips he’d kiss it
-love letters to the max
->he’d leave small letters in your car,backpack,your sports bag and dorm
->he just wants you to have something that you can take with you to remind you that he loves you and sometimes it’s just even a small smiley face saying “thinking of you”
-smacking your butt
->if you watch out for booty man.
->in a loving way if your walking up the stairs or in front of him he’d give your butt a squish to remind you that he’s there
-putting his head on your boobs
->He started doing it more when you got pregnant with your guys first kid and would always keep his head on your chest and a hand on your bump rubbing it.
-keeping a hair tie around his wrist
->he always has one around his wrist which comes in handy sometimes if you ever need your hair pulled back
Nico Hischier
-keeps eyes on you at all times
->wether you are cooking or out in public he always keeps an eye on you in a protective way making sure nothing happens to you.
->as he knows the dangers of Newark and the area of the city and he also doesn’t want you to silp up and accidentally cut yourself without him knowing
-braiding your hair
->he started doing it by himself but was worried he would tangle your hair so he asked you to teach him
->now anytime your sick or need your hair up he would braid it. Also has started watching YouTube videos on more ways to braid it
-puts his beanie on your head
->if he notices your ears even getting a hint of red in color he’s will take his beanie off his head putting it on yours and says “shush just wear it”
-writes your initial on his stick
->always after you both started getting serious he started putting your first and last letter on his stick with a heart as he thinks it would bring him more good luck
-always checks up on you
->wether it’s a small message or a 10 minute call every day he makes sure you are okay and doing okay
Jack Hughes
-covering corners when you lean over
->he’s like a slient protector. If you ask him about it he wouldn’t know what your talking about but he would always cover corners so you wouldn’t hit your head
-warms up a towel for you
->anytime your about to shower or in the shower he always makes sure to throw your towel in the dryer so it’s nice and warm when you come out.
-cooks for you
->from the articles it’s says that Jack is a good cook so he takes his chief abilities and makes you dinner when ever he can
->learns how to cook your favorite meal and cooks it for you every now and then
-being your cheerleader
-> he always has someone shouting for him including you but he wanted to be shouter for once and always cheers you on in anything you do whether it’s your job or just working out
-always sending you good morning and good night text
-if he’s not home he always makes sure to tell you good morning and night with a heart and I love you with it
Luke Hughes
-always has your favorite snacks at his place (Jack’s)
->literally has a sticky note on the snacks that say “don’t touch theses are for y/n”
->always makes sure you are fed and happy
-showers you with compliments
->he always reminds you how beautiful you are and how lucky he is to have you
-cuddles
->always is holding you close and just keeping you close
->is strong cuddler and just knowing you are right by him gives him peace of mine
-compromising with you
->is always open to hearing your side before barking down the bush with you and never wants to upset you with arguing
-scratching your back
->every night before you fall asleep you always fell him start to scratch your back to help you fall asleep
Quinn Hughes
- definitely a play fighter
->you both would be cuddling then he’d start tickling you which would turn into you both play fighting and him just loving at you with loving eyes.
-always tries to make time with you
->he’s a busy man with being captain and everything so he always try to find ways to spend time with you
-reading with you
->would let you lay your head in his lap as he read the new book he had bought to you
-buys you different rings from stores he goes to
->he buys a ring for you in all the different places he goes so it would be like you went there with him
-has a keychain of your initials on his keys
->it’s a small way of him showing you that you have his heart
Maveric Lamoureux
-leans down to hear you
-> he’s a tall dude
->so he has to lean down to hear you which makes you blushy which he finds cute but he also thinks communication is important so to him leaning down to hear you is a way of showing he love you
-buys you new flowers every week
->always likes to get you fresh flowers. It’s a little thing he started when you both got serious and he’s continues to do it. It has now became a tradition
-rest his elbow on your head
->he does this to annoy you because he loves seeing the way your face goes and also a way of showing he is by your side
-translate different items or conversations
->if you are around him when he is talking to someone in French he would take his time to translate it all for you or if your in a all French grocery store he would translate the items for you
-leaves cute little sticky note affirmations on your stuffs
->leaves sticky notes everywhere so you know how beautiful and special you are
Mason Mctavish
-remembers the small things
->he reminds when you both first met and the place where you met. When he first asked you out.
-sitting with you in the mornings
-> his mornings are usually pretty busy but always tries to find time with you in the morning just to go over what you both are doing that day
-sleeps by the door
->always tries to make sure you are safe and makes sure you know that he will protect you and one the ways he shows you that is by sleeping near the door
-kisses you every time you walk by
->every time he sees you or goes near you he will kiss you on the lips with a big smile
-gives you space when you need it
->always can tell if something going on and you need space
Fraser Minten
-holding hands
->would kiss your knuckles one by one looking up at you with a soft smile before he starts driving
->while driving or walking around he’d subconsciously rubbing his thumb over your knuckles
-talking with you at late nights when you can’t sleep
->he’d always stay up with you talking random things or tell you how the game went if your still up and can’t sleep at night
->he’d tell you random stories or memories he had as a kid
-putting a blanket over when he finds you asleep
->he’d come back home from a late game to find you sleeping on the couch and would put a blanket over you
->anytime he finds you sleeping on the couch he’d put a blanket over you
-feeding you
->if you are sick or tired and had eating anything he’d sit there and feed you every last bite of what you have to eat as he doesn’t want you to get sick or sicker from not eating
-wears a chain around his neck that has your lucky number
->the number reminds him of you and the necklace has now became his lucky charm and it always reminds him he has you to come home to.
Juraj Slafkovsky
-patting your head
->if your shorter than him he likes to just pat you on the head when he sees you doing something like homework and cooking dinner instead of wrapping his arms around your waist
-washing your hair
->he enjoys washing your hair especially when he knows it relaxes you and gently scratches your scalp too.
-teaching you sovak
->He noticed how you were trying to learn it on your own so you could talk with him more so he started to teach you.
->he would say something in sovak and then make you point at what he meant
-sitting with you and telling you stories
->he tells you about his hometown and how he’d love for one day that he could bring you there
-late night ice cream
->once you both moved in together is when you both started to have a late night ice cream run definitely when he is home
Jeremy Swayman
-cleans with you
->if he ever comes home to you cleaning he would throw on some music and start helping you clean
-always has a hand or arm on you or around you
->he always keeps a arm around you to keep you safe when you both are in public and even when not in public always has his arms around you
-gives you hugs and kisses through out the day
->if he doesn’t get his morning kiss from you he’s a grumpy man
->always loves giving you Hugs and kisses
-gives you his full attention
->will sit there and listen to your day and just nods his head until you want him to speak
-always says thank you to you
->wether it be you cooking dinner or just telling you how much you appreciate him he always says thank you
Trevor Zegras
-has a nighttime routine with you
->whenever it’s a home game and he can come back to you you both have a routine you both do together.
->a shower together then skin care and then you both talk about eachother days together
-will pull you into his lap and tell you he loves you
->he would do it right in front of the boys and not afraid to show affection to you even when around the boys
-Surprise you With a Fun Activity he doesnt Normally Do
->would bring you to a movie theater out of nowhere or go to the park and plays on the playground with you like little kids
-always randomly squishing your face
->when you pout your face gets squish. when you just smile at him? Your face gets squished.
-has his favorite picture of you in his wallet
->the picture is from your guys first date and he keeps it on him to remind him how lucky he is to have you
523 notes · View notes
attapullman · 4 months
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If Only the Neighbors Knew | Neighbor!Robert "Bob" Floyd
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Summary: A month of stolen kisses culminates in Robert hosting the HOA meeting and getting you on his couch. The ladies of the neighborhood may make him blush, but only you can make your sweet neighbor weak in the knees.
Word Count: 5.2k
Warnings + Notes: Robert "Bob" Floyd x f!reader, 18+ only folks, swearing, unprotected pinv, oral (f!receiving), self-indulgent as per usual, too many italics. Oh, I am blushing and humbled at all the love that Neighbor!Bob has received! It's exactly a month later and now he's back and making us collectively drop our panties again, as well as all the other women in the neighborhood! But don't worry, he's only got eyes for you ;) Happy Holidays, my dears, thanks for reading!
meet Robert From Next Door here
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He’s setting up refreshments in the dining room. The perfect viewpoint to where you perch on his slate gray sectional, making small talk with the neighborhood. Knees primly crossed under your skirt, smile wide as you laugh about the neighbor kids’ shenanigans. And all he can think about was when you walked in, the soft flush in your cheeks when you said, “Hi, Robert,” and gave him the lightest peck on the cheek, as if you did it all the time. As if it didn’t make him weak in the knees.
The only perk of hosting the HOA meeting is that you’re in his home. The fact other people are also here? Not ideal. It’s been a month since he had you straddled on his lap, sweetly moaning into his mouth, and frankly he wants to send everyone home so he can try the same thing on his couch. 
But he offered to host because it’s the neighborly thing to do. Swung by the market on the way home from base and grabbed crackers and cheese, mixed nuts, and too many bottles of wine because once someone brings up the length of grass everyone turns to drinking.
He’s replenishing the plastic cups and water jug when he catches your eye. The small quirk of your smile, a silently flirty hi, has him flustered. Time to start this godforsaken meeting so he’s closer to getting you alone.
“So, Lieutenant Floyd, what’s new with you?” Mrs. Jacobs has already helped herself to enough wine by the time he joins the neighborhood in his sitting room. She’s flanked by her cronies - minions in matching sweater sets - and all instantly turn their attention on him. While not someone who normally turns heads, the day Robert Floyd bought his little bungalow with the creaky porch he was instantly the talk of the street. A young single Naval officer? The women could barely believe their luck. They were all married, but shameless flirting had never been out of question.
He takes a slow sip of his iced tea, biding time. On the other side of the room, he can feel your amused smile. The rumor mill would churn violently if anyone found out what was going on with you two. So you had been sneaking around the last few weeks. A few stolen afternoons kissing on the couch, errand trips turned into steaming up his truck’s windows. It’s been the best month of his life.
The WSO is spared answering when the president of the homeowner’s association clears her throat to start the meeting, shushing her grumbling husband. The collection of husbands sat at the back with their beers, arms crossed, giggling like schoolgirls at their comrade’s chiding. Normally Robert sat with them, but felt bold and came to sit near you on the sectional, one large decorative pillow acting as a barrier.
As expected, the meeting is trivially boring. While he tries to focus on repair costs and chimney safety, all he can think about is your hand only inches away. If he only shifted a few inches - only a few, it would be subtle - he could run the tips of his fingers along the back of your soft hands, intertwining your fingers and rubbing his thumb soothingly along your wrist. And if he was that close, he might as well dip his face into the crook of your neck, where the scent of your perfume was strongest and most delicious. While he was there, it would be so easy to press a k-
“Anyone have any questions about this?” He’s abruptly distracted from his daydream by several neighbors raising their hand, disgruntled by potential disruptions to their homes.
You catch his eye, eyebrows raised, curious on his thoughts about filter replacement. Or if he's as bored as you are. But he simply gives you a dazed, shy smile, his eyes lingering just a second too long on your lips.
The meeting adjourns - thank god - and neighbors create their cliques to download. It feels safe to start your own conversation (the first the two of you have spoken since you pressed a kiss to his cheek) and you turn to him eagerly. Just as you’re about to compliment his selection of cheese, a manicured hand reaches past you and touches Robert’s bicep.
Mrs. Jacobs and company have returned. “Lieutenant, before I head out I wanted to thank you again for taking care of my lawn last week. Such a big help.”
The tips of his ears blush pink, the tone of his neighbor’s voice a tad too suggestive for a simple chore. Mr. Jacobs was nearing his sixties and spent most of these meetings complaining about an old sports injury. It seemed the least the young WSO could do was offer landscaping help after all that rain last week. His mower was already out and he’d mown the Jacobs’ lawn without a second thought. 
It had helped you had been outside planting bulbs. He liked the eye candy in your slightly too tight jeans.
The women continue to praise him and his generous ways. His cheeks on fire as Mrs. Connelly gushed about how great it was to have a big, strong Navy man in the neighborhood. As much as he wants to look at you, the embarrassment flooding his system has his eyes glued to the hardwood.
“You know,” Mrs. Branaugh began, exchanging an excited glance with her friends, “the city hall fundraiser next month is a little short on volunteers for our auction. Any chance any other lieutenants would be available?” Her eyes shamelessly rake down his chest, practically salivating at the idea of fighter pilots parading around in suits. 
You feel the licks of jealousy itch at your palms. 
He sputters out words, unsure if they’re agreement or excuses. Robert’s suffocating on his embarrassment. Mrs. Connelly and Mrs. Jacobs delight in his blush. The latter gushes, “I’d be happy to pay any of them to mow my lawn this summer.” She turns to her friends and winks. “Shirtless, of course!”
You nearly spit out your drink. The host of the evening looks moments from passing out. Your middle aged neighbors are cackling, lost in their tipsy fantasies. It’s time for everyone to go home.
Thankfully most of the men are ready to leave the gossip fest and return to their abodes. Gathering up their wives and thanking Lt. Floyd for his hospitality, the neighborhood departs the tidy bungalow, calls of, “Come over for dinner sometime!” thrown over their shoulders.
Amongst those leaving is you, slipping on your winter jacket and adjusting a thick scarf for the short walk. Barely recovered from his neighbors’ lascivious comments, he’s sad to see you go. Wishes you would straggle behind and pretend to help clean up, only to ignore the dishes and catch up in the biblical way. He can practically feel your soft skin in his hands. But you give him that sweet smile of yours and follow Mr. Sampson out the door, the promise of another time.
He’s never hosting these meetings again.
After much coaxing from her husband, the last of his neighbors finally leave and he’s alone in his bungalow again. Finally. The cheerful oxford blue walls, the hand-me-down dining chairs, the framed photo of his squadron above the mantle. Being permanently stationed has its perks.
He makes quick work of cleaning, bringing the remnants of his makeshift cheeseboard to the kitchen before wiping down the dining table and straightening the couch cushions. The multitude of empty wine bottles are taken out to the recycling before turning off the porch light, ready to retire for the night. He’s getting a glass of water when a sound pricks his ear.
The faintest knock. So quiet he would miss it had he been anywhere else in the house. Instantly on the defense, tall, broad frame coming to its full height, he’s prepared for the worst as he approaches the back door that leads to his small yard. 
Another timid knock. 
The biggest, warmest smile takes over his face as he opens the door and sees his visitor. There you stand, cheeks pink with cold and your lip trapped between your teeth. You sneak. 
Robert quickly invites you inside, enveloping you with his warm body once you’ve toed off your boots. The hug has tension escaping every muscle, finally back in each other’s arms as it should be. The secrecy, while necessary, is the worst.
“Did you forget something?” His deep voice mumbles into your hair. You push back to look at his face, but his hands are steadfast on your hips, holding you exactly where he wants you. In the month of shared kisses and lighthearted flirting, he’s never had you alone in his house.
Resigned to resting your cheek against his shoulder, you reply, “Didn’t want anyone suspicious if I stayed behind.”
“Ah, so you did the ol’ double back?" You nod. "And you’re sure no one saw you?” His mischievous smile shows he’s all jokes, but in the back of his mind he’s curious if any of his neighbors saw you in the minute gap between your backyards. The same trek he’s been making for weeks after all the lights on the street are out.
You shake your head against his soft crewneck. It’s been three days since you’ve felt his warmth and you’re melting. The faint smell of sage and citrus - and a tinge of jet fuel - flooding your senses and you’re so glad you risked sneaking over. 
Watching him host the HOA meeting with his little refreshment table? So hot. 
While you both want to sit down over a cup of cocoa and catch up on how silly your neighbors are, something else is on your minds. It’s been lying dormant for weeks now, awaiting the moment to rear its head. And in the dim lighting of Robert’s house, on a quiet winter Friday night, the moment is just right.
The first kiss is intended to be innocent, lightly brushing his lips against yours to remind you of his affection. Enjoying the plush softness of your glossy lips. But when the softest of moans leaves you, desperation hits.
He needs you.
The two of you have been playing it safe - you are neighbors after all - but as mere mortals there are needs to be met. The softness of your skin. The broadness of his shoulders. The tension that has been building and building since he watched you dunk that tea bag and knew it was now or never.
You tear away from his face, as painful as it is, to rasp against his jaw. “Robert, your house is so nice. Can you show me your bedroom?”
Squeals of delight bounce off the hallway walls as he all but drags you to the other side of the house. His fingertips dig into your hips, a little too eager, his glasses slipping down his nose as he steals kisses. As he showers you in affection, you appreciate his home out of the corner of your eye. The small collection of black-and-white snapshots from different naval bases he’s worked on. A pencil holder that looks handmade. Your heart lurches for this man whose heart is too big for this bungalow.
Feet slow at a doorway, his hands steadying you against the frame. As you look up into his sky blue eyes, nerves shoot down both your spines. The delicious thought pops into your head that you’re finally going to see him naked and you feel lightheaded.
He can’t let himself think about your body or he will pass out.
His bedroom fits him. Lamps cast a cheery glow onto the mahogany dresser where he keeps a majority of the US Navy paraphernalia he’s been collecting since he was a child - little figurines and framed airshow stills. A large wingback chair sits cozily in the corner, laden with a flannel he had debated wearing; you’re glad he stuck with the buttery soft crewneck you can’t help running your palms over. And the main event, against the far wall, looking as inviting and luxurious as anything, is Robert’s king size bed. He prides himself on the curved wood headboard he spent a summer working on.
Tentatively, he takes your hand and invites you over the threshold. Your eyes rake over everything to find any red flags (none found - it’s okay he has a lot of plane figurines and not a lot of houseplants - he’s gone half the year, those plants are gonna die) before you let your fingers brush over the blue gray of his heavy plush comforter. Similar to his living room walls.
“You must like blue.”
Cerulean eyes sparkle. His fingers tangle in the cobalt cashmere of your sweater. “I really like blue.”
This time, your lips brush his. The softest sweep before letting yourself lean into him, greedily running your tongue across his thin lips, begging for entrance. His cheeks the softest mauve as he opens his mouth to groan his pleasure. Despite your new surroundings, it feels like home when your tiny pink tongue finds itself nestled against his.
A bolt of heat travels down your spine and your hands fist in his crewneck, torn between enjoying the soft fabric and wanting it off. While your hands are desperate and needy, running up and down his torso in indecision, he’s so soft and gentle with you. Fingers tracing the delicate slope of your jaw, a warm hand on your hip teasing the skin above your skirt. Sweet noises blown directly into your mouth as he savors your taste.
The past month has built this up. That year of tension? Absolutely nothing compared to the burning heat across your skin every time you see him now. You know how he tastes, how he smells, how he whines when you lick the spot behind his ear. The itch consuming your body needs to be scratched, needs to be tamed. You need him.
He seems to be on the same wavelength as you feel his hands lead your hips toward the bed, legs awkwardly backing up until they hit crisp bedding. The man keeps a tidy bed. You’re hopelessly more attracted to him.
Tenderly Robert lowers the two of you to the bed, your back relaxing against the blanket as your hair frames your face. The tips of his fingers trace your cheek as he appreciates how beautiful you are. Embarrassed by the attention, you pout until he brings his lips to yours again, loving the way his entire body encloses around you, keeping you safe.
Your legs have a mind of their own as they wrap around his hips, arms sliding down his torso. His cheeks heating as he catches onto you, his own hips rolling into yours. The low noises escaping your throat as he grinds against your bare thigh, turning him on even more. Your chest pressed against his, the swell of your breasts as your back arches - it’s heaven. If it weren’t for your grounding presence stroking a hand through his hair he would think Phoenix crashed the jet that afternoon.
Finally too impatient to wait any longer, you tug on the hem of Robert’s crewneck, silently begging for it to go. He sits up - awkward to do when his pelvis is glued against yours - and pinches the neck of it, shrugging it off his solid frame. Knocks his glasses askew a bit. When he turns back to you, white hot desire slaps you in the face. This six foot pilot, shirtless, with smoldering blue eyes behind fogged glasses and mussed hair? There are no words.
Who would have thought peppermint tea would lead to all this?
You lose yourself in his kisses again, running your hands along the smooth expanse of skin now available. Your hips desperately rutting against his for more friction, a pool of arousal settles in your underwear with how fucking good he looks covered in your affection. Your lips find his neck and suck, the sounds emitting from him indecent. His hands settle at the hem of your skirt, brushing the skin of your thighs as he worries the fabric, contemplating his next move.
“Please.” It’s quiet, but your plea nearly echos in the room. His eyes meet yours. “Please touch me.”
There’s no going back anymore. Reluctantly pulling away from your body, he lowers himself to his shins, large hands smoothing over your thighs. As he rubs soft circles into your muscles, the hem of your skirt shifts higher. His heart thuds at the sight of your gorgeous, soft thighs, completely on display for him. Tentatively he presses a kiss to your inner knee. When you don’t shy away, he pecks another slightly higher. His nose skims the thin skin and you whimper. It’s music to his ears.
Your skirt is nearly around your waist, delicate panties in view. Robert’s heart violently slams in his chest and his erection throbs, begging to be freed from his jeans. He can’t help but focus on the spot that conceals your center, your arousal wet and dark. 
His lips kiss your inner thigh again, just inches from where you desperately want to feel them. “May I?”
You’re frantically nodding, your fingers crashing into his as you work in tandem to get the offending little piece of lace off. As they come down, his kisses trail up, teasing the skin to elicit tiny whimpers. Hot breath skims your pelvis and it’s torture. He delicately places your knees on his broad shoulders, warm skin on warm skin.
Propping yourself up on one elbow, desperate to see his face, his pretty blue eyes smile at you as he finally, finally licks one broad stripe up your folds.
Your brain effectively short circuits.
Like a broken dam, once he’s had a taste there is no going back. Hot, thick swipes over your wetness, desperate to soak up your sweet arousal. Unintentionally his nose crashes into your clit, his messy tongue work bringing him deeper and deeper within you. Above him, you’re singing his praises, mouth open wantonly. “Right there! Right there!”
The hours he’s spent wondering what you taste like, if you’re even sweeter than your kisses, have paid off. He’s addicted. Wrapping his arms around your gorgeous thighs, obscene sounds squelching from his lewd tongue, he brings a thumb to your clit to draw deliciously tight circles. The way your back arches has him panting. 
It’s hard to tell whether it’s the tingle in your toes or the fiery knot in your stomach that grows faster. The way his tongue flicks over that ring of muscle has your head spinning. His lips capture a fold and suck, moaning at how sweet you are for him. 
“Taste so good, baby. Knew you would, my sweet girl.”
Your head falls back when a finger prods at your opening, slipping through your silky wetness. If his tongue was good, his fingers are a gift. A thick digit that reaches deep, finding that spongey spot that makes your stomach curl. It works its way back and forth, bringing moans to your lips and entrancing him as he watches you take him so easily. He can barely help himself when he slips in a second, salivating over how effortlessly you stretch for him.
“That’s my girl, so good.”
Two fingers deep and a hot mouth on your clit, the world is careening around you. All sense of direction lost, too hot in your sweater, hips desperately following his lips and fingers. Your hand shoves in his hair, holding him there because it feels so good. He thrusts deeper, stretching his fingers within your tight walls. The pressure against your cervix and clit make your head pound. And then suddenly…
“R-Rob-by!” You wail into the bedroom, voice lost amongst the hot air and salacious sounds coming from between your legs. Thighs tightening around his cheeks, knees buckling as you bring your legs to your torso, curling into yourself as your orgasm blindsides you. Your brain dizzy with pleasure and relief as he keeps working his tongue within you, one hand stroking your stomach soothingly as the other disappears over the edge of the bed.
Time disappears as you lazily ride his tongue until the oversensitivity kicks in. As your hips squirm away, he presses one last kiss to your clit before dragging himself up to stand. Despite only having two brain cells left after your orgasm, you’re instantly wet again watching how he grinds his palm against the thick bulge in his jeans. 
“That feel good?” Your eyes droop happily as you nod, a little sheepish. “You are so gorgeous, so good for me. I’m a lucky man.”
As you sit up on boneless limbs, he swoops down to press a kiss on your sweet lips. The tangy linger of your taste coats his mouth. By itself it’s sexy, but then you see the wet smudges and fog of his glasses, askew on his nose from where he pressed so hard into your cunt, and a deep groan escapes as you attach yourself to him again.
Reaching down, your fingers are desperately working the button of his jeans - the need to feel every part of him against you so dire - but he’s stilling your hands, kissing along your neck. A little flushed at how close he is to cumming at the thought of your hands on him.
His lips brush your ear. “Want to enjoy your mouth any other time, but I really need to be inside you. Please.”
You’re both openly moaning out your insatiable hunger as you fall back and scoot toward the pillows, sitting up on your knees to unzip your skirt and discard it and your sweater. His hand dips beneath his jeans as he soaks up your skin, the way your bra just barely covers your nipples. He makes no show of pushing down his jeans, pulling them from around his ankles along with his socks. His mind is carnally focused on getting you completely naked as he tugs the front of his boxer briefs down to relieve the pressure on his cock.
The two fingers suddenly make sense. Robert is a big guy - not quite as big as the rest of his squadron, but naturally takes up space with his broad shoulders and large hands - and you feel silly for not connecting the dots. His cock is thick, veiny and red tipped, balls bulging with cum. You gulp down a thick breath knowing he’s about to cram every inch of it into you. This is what you’ve been waiting for.
Since the moment Robert stood on your stoop and introduced himself, the magnet between you has fought harder and harder to bring you together. Pulling by invisible strings, bidding their time, until they finally snapped and you gave into your desires, hands rushing all over while taking time to learn the curve of each other’s bodies. Finding the freckles on his shoulders. Exploring the dip of your back. And as you lay beneath your next door neighbor, breaths heavy and nervous and excited, you allow the magnets to snap together fully as he slowly thrusts his hips until they mesh into yours.
He’s deliciously thick, stretching every part of you as he pants heavily into your neck. Kisses sooth your skin while your nails mark his. In the low light of the room, he gazes at you, so enamored with the way you look taking him. The obscene wet sounds of his hips meeting yours, slow and steady so he can savor the way you squeeze him. Your whimpered noises spurring him on.
You bring a hand to his cheek, using every ounce of will to focus on his sweet face. “This is…this is even better than I imagined.”
He couldn’t agree more. Paired with the dreamily debauched smile on your face, his hips piston faster, arms squeezing tighter as you moan wildly. Bodies vibrating with pleasure, your legs wrap around his thighs for the leverage to meet his thrusts. He grunts as hands tangle in his hair, pulling lightly. The eye contact is intense, unable to look away as you both feel the build up. God, his eyes are the perfect shade of blue.
Your fingers slip to your clit, ready to propel you to the finish, when his thumb knocks you away. His circles are tight and rough as he gazes at you with desire-dark eyes. “It’s okay, let me help you.”
Your kind and overly helpful neighbor. Who lends you his lawn mower and hangs up Christmas lights. Who always compliments your coffee. Who times his thrust with a harsh push to your clit and has you immediately careening off the cliff, seeing bursts of light as your second orgasm of the night envelopes you.
His mouth attaches to yours, tongue lapping up your taste, as you moan through your aftershocks. His cock is still deep, stroking that spongey wall as he works you through and chases his own pleasure. You’re still so tight around him and he’s ready to cum. Making sure his lips don’t leave yours, he draws back and thrusts deeply, watching the way your body surges with his strength. Once, twice, and your eyes roll back as he lets go, filling you with his spend so you have everything he can give.
A streetlamp flicks on through the window. You’re only just catching your breath when Robert slips from the bed. A tap turns, there’s some rustling, and he returns with a soft cloth to help you clean up. Too tired to speak, the two of you just exchange sweet smiles as he once again comes to your aid.
The bed dips and he’s back against your body, cocooned in his dreamy coverlet, clean-shaven face pressing kisses against yours. His cheeks the lightest pink as he lowly whispers, “Hi.”
You can’t help the wide grin that overtakes your features. “Hi.”
No other words are needed to express the satiated happiness bursting through your hearts and every pore. His arms wrap around your bare shoulders tighter. A full year of pining for you, of making any excuse to help out to be in your presence…so worth it for the way his whole body feels whole when you’re around.
Sleepy eyes flutter up at him, trying so hard to stay awake and enjoy this time together. He presses a kiss to your temple, letting his lips linger on the light layer of sweat his deep thrusts caused. If only his squadron could see him now, his sweet little neighbor half-asleep after a night with him.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he mutters into your hairline as he pulls the blanket around your shoulders. You barely hear him as you begin to dream about a sandy-haired man who brought you the sun, the moon, and the stars.
When the first streams of morning light begin pouring in - because someone was a little too busy doing the deed to close the curtain - two sets of eyes pop open. You’re facing each other, foreheads rested upon the same pillow, eyes half-slits as you adjust to the light. Robert radiates heat, and you curl even closer into him. His lips turn in a satisfied smile as you burrow into his chest.
As the sun rises higher in the sky, the two of you continue chatting in low voices. Legs tangled under the sheets, Robert’s head propped up as he listens to your story about accidentally setting your old kitchen on fire trying to make pancakes. His deep laugh crinkles his eyes, pausing to press the lightest kiss to the corner of your pouting mouth. 
You’re just starting to lean into the kisses - hard not to when he looks so kissable - when a grumbly gurgle sounds out from below the covers. Both of your eyes shoot toward your abdomen, a hungry monster in the midst.
“You hungry?” His eyes are so impossibly sweet. You nod slightly, embarrassed at your crass stomach. But he’s already giving you a kind smile and helping you out of the bed, finding a pair of sweatpants and a weathered soft hoodie to keep you warm. 
In plaid pajama pants, your neighbor guides you to his kitchen, with the cheery maple cabinets and old-fashioned diner clock, and settles you onto the bench seat in the breakfast nook. “Coffee? Tea…peppermint tea?”
It should actually be illegal how good he looks when he winks at you with that little smirk shirtless. 
“Coffee is fine,” you reply, your cheeks hot. He busies himself with coffee and contemplates what he has to constitute for breakfast, and you busy yourself with the day before’s paper. He’s started the sudoku, but abandoned it when his sister called. 
Vaguely familiar with the puzzle game, you look at the little scribbled numbers in the boxes to see where he’s left off. Either the mind-blowing sex or lack of caffeine has gotten to you, because you haven’t a clue where to start from.
A steaming mug is placed before you before an arm wraps around your shoulders, looking over your progress. “Yeah, I was stumped too.”
He walks you through his thought process, thick, long fingers tracing over the paper as he points out what should fill out each box. Your eyes stray to him over and over, enjoying how passionate he is about his daily activity. Watching him blush and tilt your head back to the puzzle every time he notices you staring.
You’ve finally gotten a few boxes sorted out when you remember your coffee. Placing a thankful kiss to his cheek, you take a small sip. 
“I don’t know how to say this nicely, but this is the worst cup of coffee I’ve ever had in my life.”
Your expression is neutral, trying to keep the disgusted look off your face (unsuccessfully) and he bursts out laughing. Pushing the mug as far as possible from you, missing the delicious imported coffee in your own kitchen, you gladly accept the kiss he presses to your cheek as an apology for the worst thing you have ever consumed.
“How about you are in charge of drinks from now on and I’ll be in charge of food?” 
You eye him wearily. “If that’s how you make coffee, I’m scared to see what your cooking skills are like.”
He promises you that his mom requests his lasagna recipe every time he’s back home, and that he’s fairly capable of putting pre-made things in the oven. Good enough for you. Leaning in and molding your mouth to his, the two of you share enough kisses that his bad coffee grows cold.
Turning your attention back to the sudoku puzzle, eager to finish, Robert tightens his grip on your waist. Appreciates the way you look in his clothes after spending the night in his bed. The excited look in your eyes as you solve another box. God, you look so good in his life.
He muses privately that you should just sell your house. He has no plans to ever let you go.
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oconswrld · 5 months
Text
The first meeting - Kimi Raikkönen x Rookie!Reader
summary: Maybe the sunshine can melt ice.
warnings: age gap,fluff, out of character probs,friends to lovers
(set in 2023, kimi and seb didnt retire in this fic, Y/n is in aston martin w Lance)
Part 1
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It's Y/n's first year as a Formula one driver.It feels weird but comforting to be able to say she's apart of the big dogs. To be honest her first race week she was afraid of the others not liking her. Seeing how she is the only eastern european on the grid, her fears were caused by her accent and different way of acting.
Media day was something that was new to her. Well not necessarily but knowing more eyes were gonna be on her it was uncomfortable. Her thoughts ended early as she arrived to the room w the classic couch and screen walls. The screen reading 'Bahrain'. She was guided to the white couch sitting on the left side edge. Her PR officer handing her the pink water bottle, the white glitters she applied to it when she was 16 sparkling in the lighting.
The door opened again, familiar faces of legendary drivers appeared. Kimi and Sebastian came into the room, Seb stopping every two steps to talk to someone and say 'Hi'. After a long 3 minutes of talking coming from the blonde german, they finally reached their respective places.
Kimi sitting beside the young woman,glancing at each other earning smiles from both of them, making a silent agreement to stay close but silent. Her flustered, red face burning up as she tried to conceal it by drinking from her bottle. Is what she would've done if the cap wasn't stuck.
Kimi watched her struggling to open the bottle only to snicker and asking her a simple yet comforting question.
"Want help?" His monotone voice now weirdly quiet and kind. Her hand reaching out the bottle torwards the older man, basking in the fact he spoke to her.
His hand softly handing it back to her. A small 'thank you' left her rose tinted lips. Quickly forgetting about the thirst in her throat, she placed the bottle down on the floor turning to Kimi. Reaching her hand out for a handshake . Their hands meeting as in a form of understanding. The fin's hand was soft to touch, leaving her melting at his touch. But she wasn't the only one. He was screaming in his head, like a teenage boy having a crush.
Maybe this was when it all started.
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d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n · 1 year
Text
Someone's there.
Bucky x Reader
Summary: When you walk home from the office, someone seems to be following you home. Your best friend is not happy about that.
Word Count: 2.5K
Warnings: Stalking/Stalker-Ex BF, Domestic Abuse, Anxiety, Angry!Bucky, Protective!Bucky, Panic Attack
AN: This is definitely not what I intended to write when I started but anyway. Have good day my dudes!!!
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You stepped out of the office, pulling your coat tighter around you against the night. It was mid-November and New York was getting colder and colder every day that passed by. You were excited about Christmas - it was one of your favourite times of the year. The lights that went up from apartment to apartment, the tree and ice rink in Rockefeller center that you and your boyfriend - Nathan - visited every year, you and Nathan driving up to Boston to meet your family. Well, your ex-boyfriend.
You'd broken up a month ago. He'd been laid off about a year ago and taken up drinking to fill the time. Nathan was not a very nice drunk. He'd yell and throw things when he was angry, which was most of the time when he was drunk, and then beg you to come back, saying that he needed you and that he'd clean up his act as soon as he got a job. You had a well-paying job - secretary to the Avengers - but Nathan was always the higher earner of the two of you. You could hardly sustain his lifestyle on your job, but you stayed. Why? You had no idea.
Nathan was a smart guy, he got picked up by some major firm headquartered in Manhattan just over a month after he got laid off. He was back to his old routine of leaving the house at 6 and coming back by 8 - you hardly saw him anymore.
And much to your dismay, the drinking didn't stop. Sure, he slowed down. He couldn't risk ruining his reputation at his new workplace. So he limited the drinking to after work. But he never stopped.
The throwing vases became throwing punches, the yelling became constant threats, consoling words became consoling sex.
You did well to hide the new bruises from your colleagues, although your act was not good enough to fool everybody. You'd let your guard down in the toilet, rolling your sleeves up to wash your hands, just as Natasha Romanoff. Yes, Natasha Romanoff aka the Black Widow aka the world's best assassin.
She didn't mention it there, but you were called to a meeting with her soon after. She sat you down with a glass of water and asked you a simple question: "Are you safe?"
Your wide eyes and trembling figure gave you away.
Nat implored you to break up with him or to at least come and live at the compound for a while - just until you figured out what you wanted to do.
You turned her offer down, stating that you were fine. You'd be fine. She fixed you with a stern glance, but even Natasha Romanoff couldn't force you to do something you didn't want.
Bucky, on the other hand, was a completely different story. He'd noticed the bruises long before Nat had, and gone out of his way to try and make your life easier. He sent you less paperwork to file, fewer menial tasks to do, and even put in a request for you to be moved to the New York office. In his eyes that meant you'd be further away from Nathan.
The next week, you both moved to Manhattan.
The bruises started to get darker, and more visible around your body. You dropped the short-sleeved dresses and low necklines in favour of long-sleeved turtlenecks with trousers.
Bucky worried for you. The dark rings around your eyes, the ghostly pallor of your skin. He was determined to save you. The only issue was he had no idea where you lived. New York was a big enough place that he'd never run into you. He knew you didn't live in Brooklyn, but that was about it.
The night where it all came to a head was after a Stark Gala. There was a group photo, where Bucky's arm rested on your hip while your arm rested on his. Nathan was pissed. He'd been sitting on the sofa when you came home, the photo open on his phone and a half-drunk bottle of whiskey in his hand. He pushed you into a wall and slapped you, his rings cutting into your face. He yelled every manner of words in your direction, calling you a 'slut' and a 'whore', and telling you that you were worthless. You cried, fresh bruises forming on your neck where he gripped you and blood dripping down your face.
You took his berating for the next few hours until Nathan retreated onto the sofa, sitting down and muttering under his breath. You opened your mouth, trying to defend yourself. Wrong move. Nathan stood up, even more agitated than before. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey that was almost finished and brought it down on your head.
The next thing you remember was waking up to 4 white walls. You were in a hospital, your hand being gripped tightly by someone. You tried to escape from the vice-like grip when a thumb ran over your knuckles. You knew those hands.
"Bucky." You whispered, your eyes still adjusting to the light. Your voice was sore from disuse, but the way that Bucky's eyes lit up, you would have thought that you were singing a love song just to him.
The calmness in your heart faded as soon as your brain caught up with you. You tried to convince Bucky that he needed to go but he shushed you gently.
"Shh. Don't stress yourself out. You're safe. I promise." The red rings around his eyes gave him away. Bucky had been crying. Over you.
You held his hand tightly that day. And the day after. And even the day after that. You weren't sure if you would ever find the strength to let go.
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By the time you were out of the hospital, you'd moved back to Upstate New York - Bucky had made sure that you would never have to set foot in the city again if you didn't want to.
You returned back to work as normal - the restraining order you had filed against Nathan made your mind rest easier. The whole team was happy to have you back and smiling again, but they made sure to check in with you a hell of a lot more than they used to. Clint would swing by with an apple, and accidentally leave it at your desk - the first time, you'd felt bad and tried to return it, but you quickly caught on to his tactics. Nat would bring up game nights and movie nights, begging you to come, even if it was just you both.
But most of all, Bucky. Every day, you'd wake up to a text from him, wishing you a wonderful morning and spewing some inspirational affirmations for the start of the day. He'd bring you coffee, made just how you like it, as soon as he was back from his morning run. He'd spent a while perfecting the drink - making sure it was exactly to your standard. He'd walk you to your apartment for your biweekly 2pm therapy sessions (that he'd set you up with after he had realised how much difficulty you were having sleeping), and then off to lunch at some random hole-in-the-wall spot that he knew you would love. He'd call you as you got home, making sure you got home safe, and then a goodnight text to fall asleep to.
To others, his persistent need to be around you would be stifling. But after 4 years of having your needs be put lower than the damn cockroaches in the walls, it was nice to feel wanted.
You set your life up - personal bank accounts, new social media - anything to separate that part of your life from your new one. You got a new phone (courtesy of Tony, who insisted on buying you the latest iPhone, no matter how hard you tried to convince him that he didn't need to do that because 'where on earth would you find the money to pay him back?' He scoffed at that, "I'm a billionaire hun, I think I can afford to buy my secretary a new phone). You went to get your haircut, the shorter length was something you knew Nathan would have hated.
You'd walked into the compound the day after you got it cut, worried that no one would like it as much as you did.
As soon as you made it to the kitchen, you heard a loud wolf whistle. Nat was sitting on the sofa with Sam, and they both cheered loudly as you posed for them.
Bucky's jaw dropped as he walked into the kitchen. You were still showing off for Nat and Sam - you hadn't seen him walk in.
He walked over, reaching behind you to get a pod for the coffee machine, leaning down to whisper in your ear, "Looking good, Doll." His hot breath against your neck sent shivers down your spine.
You smiled up at him, before grabbing an apple and heading back toward your desk. You glanced back at Bucky and your eyes drifted downwards to a very large and very prominent issue. You stifled a giggle before getting back to work.
You'd continued to tease Bucky for a while, inconspicuous brushes and a few comments here and there. Enough to make him flustered, but not enough to make him suspicious.
He continued being the perfect gentleman. Helping you when you needed him to, being there when no one else was.
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You started your normal journey back home, getting out of the compound was sometimes a tedious affair because of the thousands of security gates between the compound and the outermost gate. Given that this is where the Avengers live and train, it's justified. Still tedious though.
It was a quarter mile from the compound to the bus stop that took you home - you didn't like driving, especially in the frost and the dark. You put your headphones in, picking back up on the podcast you started this morning. It was an interesting one - some new True Crime podcast that your best friend had recommended to you.
The hair on the back of your neck stood up as you walked through a dark and lonely street. You gripped your bag tighter around you and sped up. There was someone following you.
You glanced behind you, your eyes catching sight of brown hair and a blue t-shirt. It had Palm Springs emblazoned on it. Funny. You'd bought Nathan a similar t-shirt a few years ago.
You fished your phone out of your pocket, quickly dialing the one person you felt safest with.
"Doll?" Bucky picked after the first ring.
"Bucky, cred că cineva mă urmărește." You said, your voice loud enough that the other person could hear you were on the phone.
"Tell me where you are, Doll, I'll come and get you." You could hear Bucky pulling on a jacket and grabbing his keys.
"Umm, cred că sunt aproape de Joey's."
"The pizza place?"
"Da, îl văd de unde sunt." The footsteps behind you seem to be getting louder, but you forced yourself to remain calm, "Am să te aștept acolo. Vă rog să veniți repede."
You ducked into the pizza place, walking straight up to the counter. By now, you were sure of who it was - but Nathan didn't follow you into the pizza place. Maybe you were just overreacting. Joey's was mostly empty, with a few teenagers here and there - probably camping out after some house party that got shut down.
"Same as always, kiddo?" Joey asked, and you nodded with a slight grin. You and Bucky came to Joey's Pizza Place a lot - Bucky used to say that it felt like home. You were inclined to agree.
"No metal man with you today?" Joey enjoyed teasing Bucky. His dad, also named Joey, had fought alongside Bucky in the war. Joey had grown up on stories of the greatness of the Howling Commandoes and it had been one of his greatest pleasures to serve him pizza every time they came.
"He's coming - got caught up in traffic."
"Busy men, huh?" You giggled at that.
The door opened again. You turned around to find yourself face-to-face with someone you hoped you'd never see again. Nathan's sister.
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"Thought I'd find you here, bitch."
June stalked over to you, her face filled with rage. She had been good friends with you before Nathan and your relationship started going wrong, but when you had confided your pains with her, she'd turned her back on you. Blood is thicker than water. She'd called you names before - filling your comments with every vile comment she could think of, texting and emailing you death threats, anything to remind you of just how broken and damaged you were.
Before you knew what was happening, her hand collided with your cheek. The whole place burst into action.
Joey jumped around the side of the counter as June hurled insults at your face.
You tried to push her away as she swung at you again, but her hand hit your shoulder.
Joey pushed you behind him, as one of the kitchen hands stepped out to pull June back.
A teenager was on the phone with the police.
You tried to cover your ears as the noise built in your head.
The door swung open, letting in a draft.
Boots on the linoleum floor. Familiar boots.
Sirens.
"We were in the neighbourhood, Sergeant." Something about a noise complaint.
A hand pulling you into a firm chest. Tears streaming down your face. Your favourite voice whispering sweet nothings, stroking your hair, begging you to calm down.
"You're doing so good for me, Doll, just keep breathing." Bucky's pulse was steady under your hand. Slowly, your breathing evened out and you lifted your head to meet Bucky's eyes. He kept his arms wrapped tightly around you to stop you from collapsing.
You stayed in Bucky's embrace while the police wrapped up - June was being taken to the local PD for the altercation and also driving under the influence. Bucky told you that Nathan had also been arrested for violating the restraining order. Your heart sunk.
"I'll never escape him, will I?" You whispered to Bucky, as you sat down in your favourite booth to eat.
"You can, and you will," Bucky reassured you, squeezing your hand in his.
You ate your pizza in relative silence after that - most of the shop had cleared out with the police. Joey gave you your pizza for free, along with a tight hug on the side. He told you that you'd always be safe in here, "although metal man seems to have that covered." Bucky glared at the nickname, making you both laugh.
You walked hand-in-hand to Bucky's motorbike - his fingers ghosted over the bruise on your cheekbone from the slap as he fastened your helmet on your head.
"It's nothing, Buck. I've had worse." Bucky gave you a pointed look, "Too soon?"
He threw his leg over the bike and you settled behind him, resting your cheek on his spine. "Forever is too soon for my liking."
You smiled at that and nuzzled further into his back.
"Where to madam?" He said, putting on an exaggerated British accent. You leaned up to whisper in his ear.
"Take me home, Buck."
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actuallybarb · 13 days
Text
here with me
pairing: male x gn!reader (i tagged with a lot of different male characters i find comforting, but there’s no names used so you can imagine anyone you so please)
word count: 0.6k
warnings: reader is in pain (nothing descriptive), he comforts. just fluff
a/n: i wrote this as a result of my own migraines, but i kept all the symptoms vague because any chronic pain is a bitch, and you deserve to be treated softly by the person of your choice
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The apartment usually wasn’t this quiet when he got home.
Or this dark.
He set his keys on the counter and left his boots by the door, then carefully stepped through the apartment. The kitchen and living room were both empty, and the office looked like it hadn’t been touched all day.
There was no light under the bedroom door. He set a cautious hand on the doorknob, but a quiet whimper had him opening the door without question.
You were laid out on the bed, on top of the covers, with an arm draped over your eyes. The ceiling fan and rotary fan on the ground were both spinning at top speed, and he could just see a dark bag poking out under your neck.
He quietly closed the door and returned to the kitchen, now a man on a mission. He grabbed a straw and a water bottle from the fridge, then took an ice pack from the freezer and wrapped it with a dish towel. He took the last item, a bottle of painkillers, from the cabinet and silently returned to the bedroom, the only sound of his presence being the faint click as the door closed one more time.
“Baby?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
You let out another small whimper.
“How bad is it?”
“9.5.”
Unbearable, then, if you were using an actual pain scale.
He set his items on the nightstand and took a seat beside you on the bed.
“Meds?”
“At 3.”
Only a couple hours ago, too soon to take more. He put those beside the lamp.
He uncapped the water bottle and put the straw in, then he gently tucked a hand behind your head and lifted. “Drink.”
Your lips wrapped around the straw, and he didn’t pull the bottle away until you’d swallowed at least four times. But before you could lay back down, he replaced your old ice pack with a new one. You shivered a little, but the cold was a welcome reprieve.
“Stay or go?”
You could’ve cried. He’d stuck with you through this so many times he knew your comforts by heart. He read your moods instantly, and most of the time didn’t need promptings, but he always took the time to ask when it got bad like this. And he never shamed you for only being able to say a few words at a time.
“Stay.”
It nearly came out as a sob.
He shed his jacket and started unbuttoning his jeans. “Shirt or no shirt?”
“Soft.”
He took off his current shirt and replaced it with his sleep one, nothing decorating the black fabric, just ultra-soft cotton.
“Where do you want me?”
It differed every time. Sometimes you didn’t want him at all, the thought of another person with you sending jolts of pain through your body. Other times you wanted him to stay, but on the other side of the bed. Or you wanted him close, but barely touching.
“Top.”
Or sometimes you needed him to put all of his body weight on top of you like a human weighted blanket.
“Covers?”
“No.”
He positioned himself, knees on either sides of your thighs, then he slowly lowered himself until his hands on either side of your face were the only thing keeping him up.
“Okay?”
“Okay.”
He finished lowering himself and settled his full weight against you.
You sighed in relief.
“Better?”
You nodded and tucked yourself into the crook of his neck. “Better.”
“Three taps if I’m suffocating you.”
For the first time that day, you took a deep breath and relaxed.
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