#that beard still gives me life

[lemondropsonice]

N°3 The Boys Soldier Boy Featurette - S3

[illogicalvulcans]

played sims during my lunch today and took a break from the family with a baby to check in on the ineffables and got this popup like lol yeah he does in fact he's been lying to god since like day 1 he loves deception

[yawnderu]

ANGEL — John Price x Reader x Simon Riley

WC: 6,048 | Part I

Deep down, you knew Simon's way of telling you it's over between you was the moment he gave you his captain's number. Every single message you left Simon was left unanswered, not even opened most of the time, leaving you hoping that perhaps he was simply busy with his missions.

His deployments are oftentimes stressful from what you saw every time he came back home to you, yet you stopped convincing yourself everything was alright after 7 weeks of no contact. Simon Riley is not a coward— not unless it comes to feelings. You're too good for someone like him, someone who could drop dead at any moment, whose only achievements come from killing, forever tainting his hands with blood he can't seem to wash off no matter how many long showers he takes.

He rationalized for months, thought about it— thought about leaving you, too. Yet that lost puppy look of pure trust you gave him every single time he fucked into you, pretty moans leaving your parted lips and soft hands exploring his clothed body, desperately wanting to feel his bare skin against yours, something he never had the heart to give you. Too tainted, too scarred, too ugly. So like a broken man wanting to keep you safe, he did the best with what he had, leaving his captain's number on your night table the moment he was done cumming.

Over 2 months later, Simon still remembers the feeling of your warm skin beneath his lips, the look of pure vulnerability and love plastered on your face, so angelic and pretty, a sheer contrast to the nervousness on his, despite how natural it was to treat you with a tenderness he's never had with anyone in his entire life.

“He fell from a helicopter?” Crinkled eyes meet yours from across the table, taking a sip of his drink before letting out a dry chuckle, nodding his head.

“Aye, hangin' from a bloody rope. Had me scared, thinkin' I lost my Sergeant.” John said with a grin, his gaze softening at the way you were listening so intently, your full attention on him no matter how boring he thought his stories were.

“Is he scared of getting into helicopters again?” You lean a bit closer to him, your chin resting on your hand as you look up at him. From this angle, you're able to admire John's features from up-close. Every single grey hair adorning his beard, his crow's feet, the tiny beauty mark on his nose, the tiny spots on his face, likely gotten from spending a long time under the sun as a soldier from a young age.

“Of course. Took him a while to trust our pilots again, now he always double checks his gear's on right.” Price always pays attention to detail, the way your pupils dilate the longer you stare at him don't go unnoticed in the slightest. He asks a passing waitress for a check, not even giving you a second to offer to pay for your half before his card is already in her hands, going away to charge him for the dinner and drinks.

“And how's… what was his name again? Soap?” He smirks at the mild confusion when using Johnny's callsign, likely assuming it's simply a sex innuendo.

“Soap, yeah. He's a good kid, kind o' like the son I never had.” That gets your attention, looking away for a second to hold back a small smirk before looking back up at him, eyebrows raised.

“You don't have children?” That earns a small chuckle out of him, shaking his head at the question. He gave the waitress a small smile as she came back with his card, pocketing it and getting up from his chair, offering his arm up to you. There's no hesitation as you hook your arm with his, walking to his car.

“Never had girlfriends after joining the SAS. Became a captain at a young age, too.” He looks down at you as you walk, admiring your pretty features, secretly wondering how Simon could have fucked up that badly— how he let such a lovely and sweet girl go. He opens the car door for you, even going as far as to help you put on your seatbelt, letting you have a whiff at his woody cologne, the smell of smoke from cigars mixing in.

“What about you? Any children?” He asks teasingly, shooting you a playful grin before starting the car, blue eyes fully focused on the road. Unlike Simon, Price knows how to drive well, making you feel safe while on the road.

“Hell no. I've been… thinking about it, but men my age were never interested in that.” Even if he was much older, Simon was never even an option. Too emotionally unavailable, too fucked up to even consider having children.

“Part of the reason I like older men.” Your voice is smooth and even, a sheer contrast to the slight knot of nervousness tightening in your stomach, only coming undone when you hear his amused laugh.

Price's calloused palm rests on the gear shift before daring to move it over to your thigh, running up and done slowly, trying to heat up your cold skin rather than doing it to be a pervert, yet your body still reacts to his touch, warmth pooling on your lower stomach.

“Really, sweetheart?” Price isn't stupid in the slightest, yet unlike Simon, his actions aren't malicious. He simply wants to see you squirm, finding pure amusement in the laugh you both share and the playful slap you give to his arm.

“Stop using your charm on me.” You scold jokingly, unable to hide the big grin taking over your pretty face.

“I'm charming now, eh?” His grip tightens on your inner thigh, applying just enough pressure to tease you.

“According to Simon, you always have.” That makes one of his thick eyebrows raise questioningly, his lips pulling into an amused smile.

“I've known him for a long time, y'know? Back when we I was an LT.” He can't help but allow his mind to go back into the past as he drives, images of the eager Simon Riley, a broken man who simply wanted to change the world, who always helped without even asking for much in return.

“Has be always been… like that?” You ask after a few seconds of silence, allowing yourself to be the cat curiosity killed.

“No.” The Simon Riley he met was not similar to Ghost in the slightest.

“He was 'round 19 when I met him. Better than any recruits I've seen.” Yet still teased by his mates for being an apprentice butcher in the past, for being so rigid and basing his entire life on discipline, unlike the many other young soldiers who have since passed.

“I bet. He has that certain look on him, you know? The eyes. I wouldn't want to mess with him.” Price lets out a dry chuckle, nodding his head in agreement. Part of him is glad that he's been working with Simon because it seems that to know more about you, he needs to know about Simon as well.

“We're here, doll.” He parks the car, getting out of his seat and opening the door for you, his calloused hand resting on your lower back, guiding you to your house. You can feel the warmth from his hand spreading all over your body, soothing rubs up and down your back as you walk.

“Would you like a cuppa?” Mirth dances in his eyes at the audacity, already knowing your intentions, and yet.

“Of course.” Price follows after you, part of him growing excited by whatever you have in mind. Your slightly shaky hands fiddle with the keys before you're able to open the door, secretly thankful that you cleaned up your mess earlier in the day.

“What tea would you like?” You ask, turning around just in time to see Price finishing the once-over he was giving you.

“This isn't about tea, is it, darlin'?” He asks with a knowing smile, his jacket slipping out of his shoulders now that you're both inside the house. Blown pupils stare back at him, taking your time to admire the strong body hugged by his tight black shirt. You can see his bulging muscles, broad shoulders fully relaxed as he steps forward, towering over you. A monument of sorts when you're small.

“If I'm lucky, I hope not.” Your breathy voice was all Price needed as reassurance. His lips crash against yours, warm hands gripping your waist tight enough for you to feel the warmth spreading all over your lower body. The smell and taste of cigar smoke overwhelms your senses, too enthralled by the feeling of his tongue wrapping around yours, a small moan leaving your lips the moment his hand trails down to your ass, groping you with care, as if you're made of glass.

“How far do you wanna go?” His forehead leans against yours as his blown pupils stare back at you, his chest rising up and down with each breath.

“As far as you want to.” A small yelp leaves your lips when he lifts you in his arms, your legs instantly wrapping around his strong, muscular waist.

“Bedroom's there.” You don't even need to point— Price can see the open door, so enticing and tempting, allowing your small giggle to consume his whole soul like a siren's song. With carefulness that contrasts the brutality he uses as a soldier, Price sets you down in bed, strong arms on each side of your head, caging you in.

Your breaths mingle together as he leans down to kiss you again, warm tongues wrapping around the other, using his knee to spread your legs enough for his burly body to fit, subtly grinding against your clothed cunt.

“Been wantin' to do this for a long while.” Ever since Simon showed him your profile picture on WhatsApp, introducing you as a friend in need. He wouldn't dare confess it to anyone, not with the way his calloused hand rubbed his cock until it almost hurt, using your pretty face as a relief from the stress of war.

“Pretty fuckin' girl.” He praised, dragging a giggle out of you the moment his beard started tickling your neck, gentle kisses planted all over your warm, sensitive skin, his tongue darting past his lips to give your neck a tantalizing lick.

He can feel your hands exploring his strong body, his muscles bulging and tensing up beneath your soft palms. He only breaks apart the moment your hands go to the hem of his shirt, helping you pull it off of his body, the piece of clothing discarded on the floor.

“God…” Your whisper holds nothing but pure admiration, catching hints of his strong, muscular body, dark hair covering most of it. Your hand drifts up to his torso, caressing his surprisingly soft skin, not minding the scars you can feel beneath your hand. Price has been shot, stabbed, tortured, left for dead— his body acting as a keepsake of every mission gone wrong.

His gaze is soft as he stares down at you, holding a tenderness unlike a man like him, so naturally gentle and willing to show it without the walls guarding his heart— unlike Simon. His calloused hand rubs your thigh before drifting up to the hem of your blouse, carefully pushing it up and removing it with your help.

“Pretty girl.” His back bends slightly as his gentle lips now go to your bare stomach, planting a rapid-fire of kisses all over the soft skin, descending with each passing second, lifting your skin up to reveal your clothed cunt.

“I'll take care of you.” And he means every single word. Captain Price is a bad man, a bad man with a high kill-count and multiple war crimes to his name, yet John Price is a different story— caring and loving, so willing to fix something he didn't even break.

His eyes close the moment his lips connect to your mound, tongue darting out to get a taste at all he's been craving the moment he saw you. He lets out a small groan as the taste of your slickness overwhelms his senses, his hands roaming up and down your waist, daring to sneak past your bra, finally getting a good feel at your tits.

John is a starved man. A starved man whose only salvation is you, looking so pretty and sweet, panties wet with a mix of his saliva and your own slick. He's careful and gentle, pulling down your panties with both hands and dropping them on the floor, his breath catching in his throat when his gaze drifts down to your pussy, glistening under the light of your bedroom.

He doesn't waste any time, lowering himself again between your legs, licking a trail from your tight hole, to your swollen clit. Your legs try to close out of instinct, a whiny moan making its way out of your lips at the sensation of his beard against your cunt.

“Open your legs, love.” He whispered, running his thumb over your hard bud.

“Let daddy taste you.” He kisses your inner thigh before diving back in, licking and sucking on your clit, trying his best to make you feel good. Your moans are too pretty, your cunt too sweet, and Price can feel himself starting to lose control. His cock throbbed, his own desire growing stronger by the second, focusing solely on your pleasure.

“That's my good girl.” He whispered against your skin, sliding two thick fingers inside you. You're soaking wet yet still so tight, only making his desire grow, desperately needing to be inside you. Your whiny moans fuel him, his warm tongue flickering against your hardened clit faster and faster, mixing in with his sucking, his thick fingers curling inside your needy cunt.

Your hands run through his short hair, pulling at it softly to release some of the pleasure building in, the familiar knot in your stomach tightening up with each lick. Your chest rises up and down with each long, labored breath, muscles tensing up as the knot in your stomach finally comes undone, pushing his face closer to your cunt as his fingers move in and out, dragging out your orgasm.

He pulls his fingers out of you slowly, his blue eyes connecting with yours as he licks his fingers clean from your cum, your heart thudding loudly inside your chest.

“Fuck me.” That breathy whisper was all he needed, getting up only to slip out of his pants and boxers, his dick standing proudly. Despite being uncircumcised, you can see his dark pink tip, leaking precum like a broken faucet. Now that he's standing, he takes his time to admire your bare body, his blue eyes going to your tits when you take off your bra.

“Tell me if you want me to stop, yeah?” The option is always there, and he wants you to know. His knees sink into the mattress as he supports his body on top of yours with one hand, lining his hard cock with your entrance, pausing for a moment.

“Let me love you.” He whispered hoarsely, slipping into you gently despite his primal instincts telling him otherwise. He lets out a loud groan the moment your tight walls grip his throbbing cock, his face finding shelter on the crook of your neck. A small hiss makes its way out of your lips as your legs wrap on his hips, pushing him closer and deeper, allowing him to finally bottom out.

“Bloody hell— you're so tight.” He moans out, his thrusts growing faster as you get used to his thickness. He looks down at you, his eyes filled with desire and adoration, longing dancing within. John's lips part as he feels your long nails dragging down his back, driving him crazy with pure need.

“I'm close.” He whispers out, his hips ramming against you with increasing urgency, reaching out to caress one of your soft tits. He plants open-mouthed kisses all over your neck and chest, his breath warm against your sweaty skin.

“Cum inside.” John's eyes widen at your words, his dominant nature taking over as his hands go down to grip your hips firmly in place, the overwhelming desire and pleasure clouding his judgement, drowning out any concerns. His thrusts are deep and powerful, making you his with an unyielding force.

As he loses himself in the heat of the moment, John's muscles tense up, the familiar feeling of pure heat pooling up within him, slamming himself as deep inside you as he can before his cock starts throbbing, shooting ropes of cum with each pulse. His breath is heavy as he slowly pulls out of you, his gaze fixated on the mess of mixed fluids that coats your pretty cunt.

“My pretty girl.” He whispers out, burly arms wrapping around your body, pulling you closer to his hairy chest, allowing you to hear his fast-beating heart. His lips are gentle against your forehead, wanting nothing more than to relax with you after the intense love-making. His actions are nothing short of genuinely caring and loving, wanting to give you good aftercare, all thoughts of Simon finally out of your head.

“Want me to run you a bath?” Price asks in a whisper, planting one last kiss on your forehead before looking down, just to see your chest moving up and down slowly, eyes closed and lips slightly parted, pulling you closer to his warm, naked body so you can sleep better, deciding to get some well-deserved rest as well.

The smell of eggs and tea is what you woke up to in the morning, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. The feeling of large fabric keeping your body warm makes you look down, just realizing that John put his large shirt on your body when you were sleeping, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips as you get up from bed, making your way to the kitchen.

“Good mornin'.” John turns around for a second, blue eyes lighting up when he's greeted by a big smile and his shirt dwarfing your body, giving you a small wink before he's back to finishing your breakfast. You take your time to admire him, so naturally handsome and masculine, his hairy, strong body only having his boxers on.

“Thanks, daddy.” You quip teasingly as he hands you the plate, a small squeal leaving your lips when he starts to chase you around the house, shared laughs ringing around.

Dating John is a sheer contrast to any expectations you had when you first got into the relationship. Despite the fact that he's often away during missions, he has scheduled delivers for flowers and your favorite foods, calling with you the moment he's available.

“What are you doin'?” Price asks with a small smirk, his gaze softening the moment his eyes meet yours, your cheek resting on his strong thigh while he was trying to complete a report. His hand goes to your head out of pure muscle memory, giving your scalp a soft massage.

“I like you from this angle.” He lets out a small chuckle, moving his leg to make your position more comfortable as you nuzzle his leg, your chin now resting on it as you adjust your knees on the floor.

“You like me in every angle.” A grin spreads on his face, his calloused hand running down the length of your hair before resting on your back, massaging the muscles tenderly.

“True, but specially from this one.” The cheeky smile you throw his way does nothing other than to distract him further from his report of the latest mission, cupping your cheek to examine your pretty features better under the light of the room, mirth dancing in his blue eyes.

“You're clingier than my shadow.” He teases, leaning forward until his lips meet yours in an affectionate kiss, not bothered by your clinginess in the slightest. He breaks away just to give your forehead a tender kiss, staring down at you lovingly. The look of pure trust and love your eyes hold drags him back to one of the many late night conversations with Simon back at base.

“Y'like her?” Simon finally dares to ask, ignoring the growing pain on his lower stomach at the idea of you dating John, even if it was Simon's idea.

“Do you?” Price quips, already knowing the reply. There's been more than one occasion where he saw Simon stare at your WhatsApp profile picture, even if your number was deleted— he still keeps your messages, using it as an odd way of finding comfort despite the growing self-loathing from hurting you.

“You know I don't do that.” There's hints of regret spilling along Simon's deep voice, his bare fingers drumming on the cup of tea on his hand.

“Do what?” He already knows the answer, and yet.

“Love. 'M gonna get the poor girl killed.” Memories of Christmas haunt him even years later, his mind momentarily taken back to coming home just to find his entire family dead. All that blood, yet all his shattered mind was able to do was laugh even as he held a gun to his mouth.

“She'll be fine, Simon. The girl knows how to handle herself. Hell, I'm getting her a better security system soon, too.” Despite being in a committed relationship with you, John knows Simon well enough to know he still likes you, in his own way. He's seen Simon break down, seen the worst and the best of him, and eventually got to see the way he built himself back up, coming back to the SAS as Ghost.

“Wha'? You want me to date her, too?” Even if he asked it as a joke, Price's silence and the subtle shrug of his shoulders speaks louder than words.

“I know what you've been through, son. Think about it, you mean a lot to the bird.” John empties the rest of his tea down the sink, giving Simon one last pat on the shoulder before walking out of the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

“I'll go get it.” John is brought back to reality with the soft knocks on the entrance door, tilting his head up as you plant a kiss on his cheek. You make your way up to the door, your heart beating inside your chest when you look through the peephole, a familiar pair of dead brown eyes staring back. There's slight hesitation as your hand goes to the doorknob, resting there for a few seconds before you decide to open the door.

“Simon?” Despite the dark hoodie over his head, you can tell he hasn't been doing well, his skin looking more pale than usual, dark eyebags making him resemble more a raccoon than a man.

“'M sorry.” He mutters, hands deep inside the pockets of his jacket, lowering his gaze with nothing but pure shame.

“That's it?” Your guarded tone makes a part of him feel proud that you're not a doormat anymore.

“No. I'm sorry for… ignoring you, and for being a cunt.” His gaze finally meets yours. You can see the shame, the regret, and the pain.

“I was scared.” I wish I could tell you I survive out there because I don't want to leave you yet. Your lips part, though you decide to be quiet for now.

“I don't know if I'll ever be able to tell you why this shite happened.” Despite the way his hands are fidgeting inside his pockets, he's trying his best to be as honest as possible while avoiding dumping his trauma on you.

“That's bollocks, mate.” Price's voice almost scares the soul out of you, turning around to shoot him an exasperated look. For a man his size, he moves with surprising quietness. You can feel his burly arms wrap around your lower body, bringing you closer to him.

“Give 'er a proper apology.” Despite the hesitation Simon feels, the space Price left open for him is all he needs. You can feel another pair of arms wrapping around your body, the familiar scent of cheap fags and gun powder hitting your nose, bringing you back to all those nights you shared.

It's an awkward hug, a mess of limbs and warmth that you finally decide to take in, your arms wrapping around Simon's narrow waist, bringing his body closer to you despite the way his muscles tense up at the sudden contact. You can feel him relax with your touch, his cheek resting against the top of your head.

“'M sorry.” He repeats in a whisper, his cold face finding shelter on the warm crook of your neck, the urge to kiss you again growing stronger by the second, though he remains respectful. You can feel John's cock starting to harden against your ass, making you look up and give him a confused look. His hand goes up to grip your jaw softly, his lips crashing against yours as he starts to subtly grind against you, only making the confusion grow.

Simon's hold on your body tightens, the familiar sensation of his lips against your neck drags a small moan out of you, muffled in John's mouth. His tongue wraps around yours, your breathing growing more labored by the second, soft hands curling on Simon's muscular back, barely able to hear the door closing until you decide to break away from the kisses.

“What's going on?” The nervous laugh that leaves your lips is only met by a reassuring look coming from Price, his calloused hand running up and down your side.

“Part o' the apology you deserve, love.” You don't even have time to answer— not when Simon's rough lips meet yours, the kiss nothing but a pure display of love and affection. Even a ghost can be a lovely thing when you want it to be.

You can feel John's calloused hands drift down to the pajama shorts you're wearing, sneaking a few squeezes on your ass before his hand sneaks past your panties, using two of his fingers to feel your wet cunt, spreading your slick all over. His lips are now busy on your pretty neck, licking and sucking freely, not caring about any love bites he leaves— he knows you don't mind either.

You can hear his hard breathing against your tender skin, your tongue dancing with Simon's, hands desperately sneaking under his shirt, groping his hard, defined muscles. You can feel the bulging scar on his ribs, caressing it with extra care just to show him every single part of his heavily scarred body is loved.

“I missed you.” Simon breaks away from the kiss only to whisper that in your ear, his rough hand already going up to your tit, squeezing the soft fat while all you can do is moan, the combined sensations of the strong men touching you does nothing but drive you closer to the edge, your wet walls tightening around John's fingers, forcing you to squeeze Simon's bicep to release some of the tension.

“Fuck, daddy—” Simon's breath hitches at your words despite knowing you're talking to John, his own cock throbbing at the slight whine in your tone. His hands go to your waist, holding you up as your eyes finally shut, your forehead resting on Simon's chest as John's fingers move faster and deeper inside you, lazily rubbing your clit with his thumb. Your knees start to buck, more whiny and louder moans leaving your lips as you cum all over his fingers, nails digging into Simon's arm.

“That's a good girl.” Price praises in a breathy whisper, delicately pulling his fingers out of your pulsating cunt, taking a second to admire the way his fingers glisten with your slick.

“Taste her.” Simon is a man with no shame. No shame at all, making eye contact with you as he starts to suck his captain's fingers, putting them in his mouth just to taste more of your sweet slick. The hungry wolf is reduced to a starving dog, a small groan leaving his lips the moment your taste is all over his tongue.

He pulls John's fingers out of his mouth once he finishes licking them clean, your mouth opening ajar when Simon's lips crash against his, your heart beating loudly inside your chest as you watch them kiss. You can see their tongues dancing together, sharing your sweet taste in a passionate kiss, Simon's grip tightening around your waist.

They break away after a few seconds, looking up just to be met by Simon's cheeky smirk. He pushes you further into the house, fingers intertwining with yours as he walks into the bedroom like he owns the place, yet in reality, it's simply something he's done way more times than he can count.

“Pretty fuckin' girl.” His hold is all but gentle as he lays down in bed, pulling you on his lap, allowing you to feel the way his hard cock bulges on his jeans, calloused hands going to your ass to make you grind against him, whiny moans leaving your lips at the friction against your sensitive cunt.

You can hear a zipper going down behind you, only making the excitement grow at the idea of seeing your boyfriend's bare body again— no matter how many times you've seen it already. Price's knees sink on the mattress, burly arms wrapping around your waist, grabbing one of your hands just to guide it to his hard cock. Your hands wrap around it, starting to rub him up and down slowly until his fingers join yours, speeding up the movement.

“Tell me you wanna fuck him.” His voice is a whispered command, a dominance you've never heard before— and one Simon has heard too many times during missions.

“I wanna fuck Simon.” You confess, your back pressing against John's strong, hairy chest as you jack him off, your soft palm rubbing against his sensitive tip, dragging a small grunt out of him as you smear his precum all over his throbbing cock. His free hand goes to your back, pushing you down against Simon as you let go of his cock with a small whine of protest.

Simon is desperate and needy— that much you can tell by the way he removes his clothes with an eagerness you've never seen before. You take your time to admire his strong body, pale skin tattered by scars, yet looking so alluring. You adjust your position as he tries to remove his pants, exchanging a small laugh at the awkward position you're in.

He looks more relaxed and honest than you've ever seen, his eyes crinkling as you're getting your shorts and panties pulled down by Price, finally resting your naked body on top of his. It's a new change of pace for both of you— Simon doesn't like to give up control, doesn't enjoy being dominated, it's too personal and vulnerable, yet for you? He's willing to try anything.

“Show him how you much you missed him.” John's soft command makes you nod your head, looking over your shoulder just to feel his lips against your back, his hand coming up to your jaw to turn your face back to Simon. Simon's calloused hand goes down to his throbbing, veiny cock, waiting until you lift your hips up to line himself up to your cunt, a low groan leaving his lips as your tight walls wrap around him, your back arching once he bottoms out.

“Fuck, Simon…” Your face rests against the crook of his neck, planting kisses all over his warm skin as he starts to fuck into you, the wet sounds of your sopping cunt and needy moans filling the room.

Simon's eyes are closed, fully taking in the sensation of finally having your naked body on his after so many months apart. His hands explore your body with familiarity, bringing one of your hands up to his face to make you cup his cheek, gentle kisses planted over and over on your thumb.

You're too far gone to notice John coming up from behind you, keeping you against Simon's body while his free hand rubs the lube all over his veiny cock, a small smirk pulling on the corners of his lips at how much you're both enjoying each other. You're dragged back to reality when you feel his tip pressing against your tight cunt, already full with Simon's cock.

“It's not going to—” Price pacifies you with another kiss on your bare, sweaty back, slowly pushing in.

“I'll make it fit.” He reassures, a deep moan leaving his lips once he manages to slip his thick tip inside you, giving you time to adjust to the sensation before slowly pushing the rest of his cock inside you, pausing once he bottoms out to give you a well-deserved break.

“Fuckin' hell.” Simon groans out, his face scrunching up at how much tighter your cunt feels now that you have two cocks inside you. His short nails lightly dig into your skin, already feeling so close to the edge despite the fact you're just getting started.

You let out a short exhale once they both start moving, cocks rubbing together inside your tight walls, the sensation of being stretched this much starting to feel better by the second, every single nerve inside your cunt being stimulated. You pull Simon for another kiss, feeling his hand coming up to the back of your head just to pull you closer, wanting to feel more of your tiny tongue licking his.

You're a mess of limbs— sweaty bodies colliding, feeling their muscles tightening up around your soft, smaller body. Simon's moans are muffled by your lips, not letting you pull away from the kiss in slight embarrassment at letting you hear the neediness seeping out of his tone.

Their hips move in a relentless rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins, forcing your back to arch, only giving them a better angle to fuck into you. Price's hands go up to your soft tits, squeezing and groping as he moves faster and deeper inside you, his breath hot against your ear.

“I'm… I'm gonna cum.” You manage to whisper between moans, muffled once again by Simon's rough lips. The overwhelming sensations build within you, the familiar sensation of your muscles tensing up and fingers tingling starts to grow stronger by the second, the intensity of your connection with both men driving you over the edge.

The sensation of one of their cocks hitting your cervix over and over makes you whine softly, muscles tensing up as they sandwich your bodies between them, finally letting go, your orgasm washing over you as your walls wrap tighter around their cocks, your fingers digging into Simon's skin. It doesn't take long for them to follow after you, fucking into you as deep as they can as they release a thick load into you, cocks pulsating with each rope they shoot.

They remain buried inside you for a moment, chests heaving as they try to catch their breaths. Price is the first one to pull out, watching as their combined cum seeps out of your spent pussy before he lays down next to Simon, your warm body being pulled to the side as Simon lays on his side, his cock still buried inside you even while he's softening.

“I love you.” He finally confesses, tired eyes meeting yours for a second before shutting again as Price embraces you from behind. Your leg is resting over Simon's body, making the position a lot more comfortable as you bring his face closer to your chest.

“I love you too. Both of you.” You whisper, tiredness slowly taking over your body, not even realizing that Simon is already asleep, his face buried on your soft tits. Price lets out a small chuckle, planting gentle kisses all over your warm back, his hands lightly gripping your stomach as a way to let you know he loves you, too.

[candycandy00]

JJK Men as Pervy Mall Santas

JJK Men as Pervy Mall Santas! 

You’re at the mall with some friends right around Christmas time, and you can’t help noticing that the Santa seems to be really fucking hot, even with the fake beard. So your friends dare you to sit on his lap, pose for a photo, and tell him you’ve been very naughty this year. 

Smut. 18+. Reader is an adult! Dirty talk. Very rough sex (all consensual). Oral sex. Hair pulling. 

Gojo: 

His eyes light up when you tell him you’ve been naughty. He subtly pulls you closer against his body and says, “Oh? Tell me all about it!”

“I’ve been a very bad girl,” you say. “I’m horny all the time, especially for hot guys in red suits.”

His gloved hands are moving all over you, in ways no one else would notice. He gives a big “Ho ho ho!” laugh and says, “I’m the kind of Santa who gives the best presents to naughty girls like you!”

Thirty minutes later he’s on break and railing you from behind in the closest supply room, staying in character. “You weren’t kidding about being naughty! This pussy is swallowing Santa’s dick so good!”

He leans forward, his fake beard brushing over the back of your neck. “Ready for Santa’s present?” he asks, right before shooting his load inside you.

Geto: 

Acts completely calm and unfazed when you say you’ve been naughty, even as one of his hands snakes around under your sweater to grope your tits. 

“And what does this naughty girl want for Christmas?” he asks. 

You giggle and lean in close to his ear to whisper, “Your cock in my mouth.”

Still smiling calmly, he pinches your nipple and says, “I think Santa can make that happen.”

On his next break he meets you in the restroom, where you suck the life out of him, trying desperately to get a reaction out of him. He’s still maddeningly calm though, just smiling down at you, not even changing expressions when he cums down your throat.

Toji:

“Naughty girls are my favorite kind,” he says as his hand moves up your thigh. He doesn’t seem to mind that anyone watching closely could see what he’s doing. His fingers slip under the crotch of your panties. 

You hold back a moan, your hands gripping his strong forearm. 

“Meet me in the parking garage in twenty minutes,” he says. “Then you can show me just how naughty you are.”

Later, he has you in the backseat of his car, folded in half, fucking you so hard you can barely think. “Ahhh… Santa, it’s too much!”

He laughs. “Oh? I thought a naughty girl like you could handle me.”

Nanami: 

Gives you a stern look and says, “Naughty girls don’t deserve presents.”

Oh no, he’s not taking the bait! So you change tactics, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I can be a good girl for you, Santa. Let me prove it to you.”

His hand slides up your back and creeps into your hair, gripping it firmly. “If you can’t, then I’ll have to punish you for being naughty.”

A few minutes later he has you pressed into a dressing room in a nearby department store, taking his cock as he tightly pulls your hair back. You whimper as his grip tightens and his thrusts become rougher. “Don’t complain,” he says. “This is what you get for being naughty.”

“I’m sorry, Santa,” you mumble out, your body jerking with each thrust, “I’ll be good from now on!”

Choso:

Blushes and averts his eyes when you tell him you’ve been naughty. But when you purposely squirm around in his lap, you can feel a growing bulge. 

“Oh my, Santa, are you naughty too?” you ask, rubbing your ass into his crotch. 

He glances at your face. “Maybe,” he mutters before looking away again, “but I can be nice too.”

You find out just how nice he can be when he’s got you spread open on the table in the break room, making a meal of your pussy. His tongue circles your clit, making you cry out in pleasure. 

He comes up for air, his face tinted pink and his lips slick with your juices. “Is this what you wanted for Christmas?”

Sukuna: 

Is not amused by your flirting, but is amused by the idea of making a naughty girl cry on his cock. Will just get up and leave right in the middle of his shift, dragging you out with him. Doesn’t care who sees him leave or how many children he traumatizes with his bloodthirsty smile alone. 

Takes you into one of the empty offices and slams you against the wall, yanking up your skirt and fucking you on the spot. 

Loves your pitiful cries as you realize you might have bitten off more than you can chew with this Santa. He’s rough and he laughs when you devolve into a cumming, crying mess while he pounds into you. 

After he cums in every hole you have, he leaves you sprawled on the floor, covered in various fluids. As he walks out the door, he looks at you over his shoulder and says, “Merry Christmas, naughty girl!”

[rowenablade]

It’s Ed doing everything he can to drive people away, to make people hate him, so that his depression can have its way with him, and the people in his life choosing to love him anyway.

It’s Stede trying on new identities, new passions, new ways of expressing himself, at an age where conventional wisdom says you’re supposed to have put all that behind you.

It’s Izzy realizing he didn’t know Ed, or the crew, or himself, as well as he thought he did. It’s him becoming new at the risk of looking like a hypocrite, and his friends giving him room to become new.

It’s Jim refusing to compromise or apologize for or even explain their gender out loud, and everyone being fine with that.

It’s Olu and Jim loving each other, helping each other grow, and maybe realizing that just because a relationship doesn’t end with one of you dead doesn’t mean it was a waste of time.

It’s Stede and Mary realizing that, too.

It’s Black Pete being a cringey, annoying dork, and loving and being loved anyway because you don’t need to be perfect to deserve love in your life, actually.

It’s big, bearded Wee John in a dress. It’s big, bearded Fang crying and being comforted. It’s Archie grabbing onto the small moments of sweetness where and when she can, even if she doesn’t have any faith they’ll last.

It’s flawed, messy people choosing love, again and again. Flawed, messy love, love in all its gentle and brutal forms, but still love.

Whatever happens in the finale, I will be forever grateful to this show for reflecting so many of my mistakes, fears and hopes, and doing it gently. Doing it in a way that makes me feel loved.

One more week, everyone. See you on the other side.

[buckyalpine]

Hello and hope you are doing well!! I was wondering if you could do smut story where the reader get more than she bargained for when telling Bucky that his dark side could do a better job at certain things. Also your stories are amazing ❤️🖤

Bucky gives you what you ask

YESSS. Thank you bb, Im so sorry this took forever and I hope you see this, I loved this so much. And as always I got so lost in it. Good God. He is dirty, dirty here.

You loved the way Bucky loved you. He was so soft, gentle, took care of all your needs without leaving behind a single mark on your delicate skin. Bucky was nothing more than a soft sweet thing, slowly getting back into his boyish 40's charm, a gentleman at all times. If you didn't know about his past, you would've never guessed he'd have another side to him.

But you'd seen the shift in his demeanor whenever he'd train in the gym and even more so when he was out on the field. The way his eyes would narrow with laser like focus when hitting his targets, the way he wouldn't flinch when putting a bullet between their eyes. His face would be expressionless when his metal arm would wrap around their throat, slowly draining life out of them, parts of the Winter Soldier still running deep in his veins.

And how badly you craved to have that side of him take you apart.

"What is it sweets" Bucky watched you fidget with the buckles of his tac suit, helping him undress after he'd just returned after a mission. There was something about him in his all black straps, leather and weapons that made your knees weak. It didn't help that his beard had started to fill out, the ends of his hair starting to curl at the nape of his neck. "You okay?"

You adore how attentive he is even when he's exhausted after weeks away from home but you wished just for once, he'd choke you with his metal arm instead of just hugging you with it.

"I want-" You paused for a second before continuing, "I want more"

"More of what doll" Bucky's wide puppy eyes were filled with worry; he made sure to always pay attention to your needs and he'd do anything to make you happy. "Tell me, you know I'd do anything"

"Just- take more control, be more rough with me" You weren't sure how you wanted to explain yourself but your body knew exactly what it needed, growing hotter by the second the longer he stood there in his tac suit before you. He let out a soft chuckle when he realized what you meant, laying down his knifes off to the side on the dressed.

"I had you moaning my name before I left doll" Bucky playfully rolled his eyes while you huffed, your sexual frustration only growing more when he tossed off his Kevlar leaving him in his tight black tshirt.

"Well the Winter Solider would have me screaming" You shrug, not noticing the way Bucky froze, now staring at you without blinking. "I think that side of you would do a better job at certain things, Buck"

"You don't want to see that side of me sweets" Bucky tried to keep his voice neutral, ignoring the way his cock was already throbbing in his pants, straining painfully against the thick fabric.

"But what if I do?" you challenged back, taking a step back when he moved forward, slowly backing you against the wall of your shared bedroom.

"Doll..." He warned, squeezing his eyes shut trying to collect himself, his fingers twitching at his sides. "That's not a good idea"

"Why not, think the Winter Soldier wouldn't be able to make me feel as good?" You added a taunt to your voice, hoping to rile him up, his chest now nearly pressing against yours, caging you against the wall.

"Is that so" Bucky tested the water slowly, still wanting to give you an out if you needed one because he wasn't going to be able to hold back once he started. You nodded, heart hammering against your chest as he took in a deep breath, his jaw clenched.

"As you wish sweets" He whispered by your ear, the tip of his cool metal knife suddenly pressing against your throat. Your eyes grew wide at the fact that he'd slipped it into his hand so swiftly, you hadn't noticed. "If you want me to stop, say Brooklyn, understand?"

"Yes" You squeaked, while he dragged it till it rested under your chin, tilting your head up to look meet his darkened eyes. Without a word, he sliced down your blouse, ripping away at the material that caught in the middle. He didn't give you a chance to speak, his hands grabbing the edges of your bra, splitting it into two before tearing your leggings into pieces next.

You were complete naked within seconds, suddenly feeling exposed under his gaze, still fully dressed himself. Bucky had seen you naked countless times, in fact you'd change in front of him without a care in the world, always giggling at the cute blush he'd have on his cheeks.

But this wasn't the same.

Not even the slightest.

He tossed you over his shoulder and threw you on the bed letting you bounce off the mattress while he stood at the edge.

"Spread your legs"

It wasn't a request. It was a demand.

Bucky looked like he wanted to devour you. This was the same man that had his head between your legs more times than you could count but he was staring at you like he'd never seen you before. You shrunk back, squeezing your thighs together at the low growl he made, grasping your ankles and splitting them apart till you were completely exposed to him, your wet folds giving away how turned on you were. He fumbled with the button of his pants, unzipping them and pulling them down just enough to free his cock, his palm and fingers swiping up your pussy to gather you slick, slathering it over his erection.

"Such a pretty baby with such a pretty pussy"

You bit back a whine as he started to jerk his cock, circling the tip with his thumb, spreading his own arousal around. He took a step back to admire you, his eyes shamelessly raking up and down till he was satisfied with his fill. He moved to lay on top of you, his nose trailing along the column of your neck, inhaling your soft scent. There was something so feral about him, you stayed frozen in place while his hands found their way to your waist, squeezing the soft flesh.

"I'll show you exactly what you've been missing out on" He nipping your earlobe before crawling off you again to throw off the rest of his clothes. "God, I've wanted this for so long"

There was no prep, no foreplay, no soft kisses and sweet words. Bucky grabbed your hips, manhandling you till your face was pressed against the mattress, his swollen cockhead prodding at your fluttering pussy. He let out a dark chuckle, swiping his cock up and down through your folds, pressing his tip against your clit.

"Bucky, fuck me" You were desperate to feel him inside you, wiggling your hips as best as you could to get him to push it in you but you were instead met with a harsh slap to your ass, the cool metal making your skin sting.

"Impatient little slut" He shook his head, taking both your wrists and twisting them behind your back, He held them in one hand while the other snaked up tp grab your hair, tugging it tight from the roots. "Beg. Beg me to fuck you"

"P-Please Bucky, want it!"

"You want who to fuck you princess, say it, tell me exactly whose cock you want to ruin you"

"Yours soldat, please, want you, please fuck me solda-FUCKK" Bucky slammed his cock into you without warning, setting in a brutal pace that had you gasping for air. His balls smacked you with each thrust, the grip he had on your wrists and hair tightening for better leverage.

"I fuck needed this" His head was thrown back, his thighs meeting the back of yours as he fucked you harder than ever before, the squelching of your pussy making a sticky, dirty mess all over him. "You have no. Fucking. Idea. how fucking hard is it every time I fuck you"

His words were punctuated with harsh thrusts, growling at the way you'd already started to flutter around him as he hit your cervix. Your jaw was slack from surprise and pleasure, pathetic moans and whimpers replacing your words.

"Do you? Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to hold back kotenok? How hard is it for me to not fuck your brains out when I'm deep in such a tight pussy? How badly I want to rail you, YA tak dolgo khotel tebya trakhnut" [I wanted to fuck you so hard for so long]

You'd never hard Bucky speak Russian, not once but his filthy mouth didn't stop as he continued to rail you, foreign curses dripping from his mouth.

"You think I'm such a gentleman don't you, huh? You remember the first time we had sex princess? how I made love to you? How slow it was, how you moaned when I put my cock in you for the first time?"

"Y-yes" Your body was slack against the bed, only held up because Bucky was gripping onto you with a bruising hold.

"I made love to you that night, didn't I. But I like to fuck baby, especially you, I've wanted to fuck this pussy for so long, ruin it all just for me"

You were suddenly flipped over again, whining when you felt empty, only to be filled right back up again seconds later when Bucky laid on his back, pulling you to straddle on top of him. He planted his feet against the mattress, not giving you a chance to move, fucking up into you, the angle of his hips rubbing against that sensitive spot inside you.

"Oh-oh f-fuckk" tears streamed down your face as he tweaked your nipples between his fingers before wrapping his hand around your throat. He muffled your sobs, slipping his thumb between your lips, shoving it down your mouth till you drooled.

"You look so pretty when you cry kotenok, is it too much?" He taunted, squeezing your throat tighter, "Don't think I haven't noticed the way you stare at my arm princess, I always knew you were a needy little slut deep down You wanted this though, hm? Wanted my fat cock to ruin you till you wouldn't be able to walk?"

"I-oh god-fe-els good I-gonna cummm" You could barely formulate sentence, practically squealing when Bucky rolled over once again, this time tossing your legs over his shoulders, his hand snaking down to rub your swollen clit.

"Gonna cum, are you princess? Who do you belong to, say it, who fucks you this good?!"

"Y-You Bu-"

A harsh slap to your cheek made your pussy clench, Bucky's blue eyes dilated to rings, a feral expression his face as he smacked your face once more making you sob out of pleasure again.

"That's not whose fucking right now you is it?! Tell me, say it"

"YOU SOLDAT" You wailed as he continued to thrust into your puffy, overstimulated pussy, getting his teeth, grabbing onto the headboard as it slammed against the wall.

"That's right kotenok, you belong to him now" Bucky let his body weight fall onto you, bringing his knees up and pounding you deep against the bed, his own pace growing sloppy, balls pulling tighter towards his body. "Gonna give you all of his cum sweets, gonna fill this slutty desperate cunt with all of my cum, that's what you want isn't it? To be a little cum dump for the Winter Soldier?"

Bucky's mind went somewhere else, back to the first time he'd seen you, still as the Soldier, back when the team first discovered him. Back when his brain was fried but you had remined seared in his mind. Back when his mission was to finish you but some part deep down inside him wanted something else he didn't understand.

"God, where were you all those nights I had to touch myself alone, when I needed something warm and tight to cum in? huh? Bet you didn't know that huh princess? didn't know that the Soldier lusted after the pretty bunny that tried to take him down?"

Your eyes grew wide at his confession, pleasure desperate to snap within seconds.

"Did you know the winter soldier wanted to fuck you bunny? Did you know he'd jerk off when no one was watching? Had no idea what was going on Bunny, just remember my cock aching so bad, leaking so damn much. Nothing made it better until I touched myself. Didn't even know what I was doing, just fucked my fist while I thought about how pretty you looked in that tac suit, came all over my sheets like a little boy"

"I-fuck-Can-can I cum soldat?" You clung onto him, whimpering at the way you had to desperately hold back from gushing all over the sheets, his words too much, you couldn't take it any more.

"Go a head and cum princess, takoy khoroshiy kotonok" [such a good little kitten] He nipped up your neck, rubbing your clit faster, moaning with you as you started to cum around his cock. His movements didn't stop, fucking you through your high till your body jolted under him, the smell of sex heavy in the room.

"S-S'too much" You hiccupped while Bucky continued to fuck you like a man with no morals.

"Too much? It's too much for you kitten? Don't worry, gonna fill you up so good baby, where, where do you want to soldat to cum?!"

"Inside!" You cried out, locking your ankles around his waist, your slurred sob turned into a guttural moan when he pinched your clit between his fingers.

"Here it comes kotenok, got so much cum for you, it's gonna drip baby, get ready, here it comes, here it fuckin' comes- OH FUUCCKKK" Bucky roared against your neck before stilling, his cock throbbing and twitching, hot seeding feeling you up till it leaked. You were practically floating, too fucked out to realize He'd gently gotten off you and cradled you close.

"Are you okay pretty girl?" Bucky cooed, snapping back into the sweetheart that he was, the switch over leaving you reeling with your eyes still crossed. "My poor baby"

Bucky chuckled at your dazed expression, cuddling you up to his chest, caressing your sweat slicked skin.

"Come back to me princess" He pulled the covers up to warm you up in his arms, resting you carefully against the pillows. "My good girl, you did so good for me angel, m'so proud of you, so good"

You whimpered in response, curling up against him, your body still jolting and pulsing.

"Was it too much angel?" His brows furrowed with concern, cupping your cheek to look at him. He kissed away the now dry tear tracks that stained your face, his thumb swiping over your hot skin.

"Never" You rasped out, your voice raw from screaming, "Was perfect Soldat"

"You're perfect angel" Bucky grinned, stroking your spine while you continued to snuggle into him, his cock already twitching at the thought of another round. "My perfect little kotenok"

[gatorlovebot]

nsfw. mdni. this is self indulgent but its my right as a 20 something who is getting ready to move out on their own for the first time to write about landlord john price ok <3

landlord price who buys a nice looking duplex in the city and fixes it up himself. lives in the top floor because he doesn’t need much space to himself and rents out the bottom unit. so far it had mostly been couples or smaller familes renting out the bottom unit, until you came along.

you, who had been saving money to rent something nice for yourself, something with a little extra space. the two bedroom downstairs unit is perfect for you, but you have pretty mixed feelings about your landlord living right above you. until you actually meet him.

upon moving in your greeted by the warm accent of john price. his eyes crinkle when he smiles at you and you can pick out grey hairs in his full beard. it’s so cliche, feeling butterflies for an older man whose kind to you but what are you supposed to do when he offers to help you bring in boxes, muscly arms on full display?

he allows you time and space to get settled in, with a promise of, “i’m just upstairs if you ever need anything.”

you don’t see him for the next few days until there’s a knock at your door and its him, looking soft and sweet in a grey henley, just in time for the colder fall weather. “would you care to join me for dinner? i tried a new soup recipe and seems like a i have enough to feed a small army.”

and that’s how you end up in his space for the first time. it’s tiday yet lived in. furniture dark and worn. you can tell a man lives here. dinner is nice, soup rich and filling. but john makes it so much better. effortlessly making you laugh with his bad jokes and stories. he’s warm and personable. your little crush grows when he walks you back downstairs to your unit when the sun goes down. you find yourself struggling to go inside to your empty apartment.

some days you see him and some days you don’t. your work schedule is consistent but you can’t get a read on his schedule, coming and going unpredicatably. life of a retiree, you think.

sometimes you catch him when you’ve come home from work. usually you’re thrilled to see him, an immediate smile stretching across your face and a blush on your cheeks as soon as you see his smile and hear his voice.

sometimes you curse his presence. like now, when you can’t even wait until you get inside your place before the tears start to fall. and of course john has to be in the front yard racking up leaves. you try to give a polite hello and walk up the steps inside, but john price can already read you like a book.

he’s pulling you into his chest before you even know it, big, solid arms wrapped around your shoulders holding you snug to him. “what’s got you so upset, huh?”

and you let the tears fall in earnest, feeling safe and secure with john. “work…just fucking sucks.”

“oh you poor thing,” he coos before gathering you up in his arms and leading you up to his place. he brews some tea as you sink into his couch, the leather warm and soft underneath you. once the teas done, he settles next to you and let’s you warble on about how unsupportive your work environment is and how your boss never follows through on his promises. he mostly just lets you talk, letting out an occasional hum in affirmation. that night he’s not very talkative, he’s much more tactile. running his hands up and down your arms, rubbing the tension from your shoulders and back as he allows you to lean on him until you’re practically in his lap. you’ve exhausted yourself crying and he thanks you for being so vulnerable with him and tells you that even though you don’t deserve all the bullshit at your job, you’re such a brave girl for fighting through it.

things continue to get more and more comfortable between you two. you would almost go as far as to say you would consider him a friend. you do still sometimes have awkward moments though. like when you go down to the basement to change your laundry from the washer to the dryer and you find him already placing your garments in. “oh sorry,” he says, flustered, a tinge of pink dusting his cheeks at being caught. “i spilt some paint on myself earlier while touching up the trim outside and really needed to get some stuff in the washer. i was going to message you asking if all this stuff could go in the dryer.”

he’s so thoughtful, you think. “yeah, it can all go in. thanks, john!”

hours later when you’re finally putting away your clean laundry you realize some of your panties are missing. oh well, its an older dryer, must have eaten them.

its months layer when your stomach drops as you read a text from john asking if you could come upstairs later tonight, there was something he needed to talk to you about. you feel a flash of panic, his text sounding serious. did you do something wrong? you had just seen him the previous day and everything between you seemed fine. you thought you were a great renter, but now you weren’t so sure.

you make your way up to his place and he greets you at the door, usual soft smile on his face.

“i just wanted to get something out in the open,” he starts as you both take a seat on the couch. “i’ve noticed an odor coming from downstairs late at night.”

for a moment you have no idea what he could be talking about, an odor, you think and then it hits you. your late night smoke sessions. “oh, yeah.” it dawns on you. “i’m so sorry about that.”

“no, no, it’s fine.” he reassures, “i would be a bit of a hypocrite myself to be honest, i smoke cigars constantly. try to keep it to just the back balcony but sometimes i break my own rules.”

“yeah, i don’t do it in the apartment because that would be rude, but,” you wince, “sometimes i get a little too lazy to go outside so i just do it out my bedroom window.”

“ah, no worries, dear. just wanted to let you know that i know.”

with your panic subsiding you feel a little bold, “would you like to smoke a little, john?”

“if you’re offering, i’ll be on the balcony.”

you would have never imagined sharing a joint with john would lead you here. in his lap, legs splayed open with your pants around your ankles. listening to the wet sounds of your pussy as he dips his big fingers inside you, hitting all the right spots. your brain is floaty and your limbs feel weightless against his big body that surrounds yours.

there’s a constant stream of nonsense and whimpers that leaves your lips as you dumbly watch him pet your swollen clit. but its the filth from his mouth that really gets you. “such a pretty little thing fo’ me, huh?”

“this little cunt ‘s all mine, right?”

“i’ve been thinking about touching you like this since the day you moved in.”

“cum on my fingers, sweet girl, i know you want to.”

and you do, clenching around his fingers as you keen and moan through it. there’s a whispered, “good girl,” deep and gravelly in your ear before you’re being lifted into john’s arms as he carries you back inside, to his bedroom.

[heartsandhischier]

"You slept with who?"

nico hischier x reader

summary - 1.5k words. trying to escape an awkward encounter after a one night stand, emphasise on trying

author's note - in my head nico is such a sweetheart no matter the situation, and NO ONE can tell me otherwise. i will protect this man with my life!

warnings - slight reference to the devils tango (ig), swearing

As the morning sun tiptoed through the parted curtains, it painted the room in a soft glow, awaking you from a restless slumber. A throbbing headache served as your unwelcome alarm, joining forces with the sunlight to assault your senses. You pulled the covers over your head, seeking refuge from the discomfort, suddenly hit by an unfamiliar scent – cologne. With a jolt, you sat up, struggling to pry your heavy eyelids apart as you looked around the room. This wasn’t your bedroom.

Where the fuck am I?

Alone in the unfamiliar bed, you took a moment, attempting to piece together the puzzle of your surroundings. The room was clean, neat, the owner clearly a tidy person. Despite the overall cleanliness, scattered trinkets and personal belongings were scattered along the space, giving it a sense of lived-in comfort – a curated chaos. 

Your breath caught in your throat as your gaze fell upon the floor, a scattered array of clothing formed a path from the bedroom door to the bed. With a hesitant rise from the mattress, a sudden realization washed over you – you were completely naked.

Remnants of the previous streamed through your mind. Recollections of hitting the club with your girlfriends flooded back, the taste of margaritas still lingering on your lips. The thumping bass and flashing lights of the club replayed in your mind, each memory accompanied by the relentless pounding in your head.

As your feet met the floor, your head pulsed with every beat, you had to get out of here. This wasn’t your typical scene – you weren’t accustomed to waking up in unfamiliar beds after nights of festivities. And when these rare occurrences did happen, you never stayed long, avoiding any potential awkward encounters with one-night stands. Hastily you collected your belongings, attempting to look just a bit more presentable as you assessed your disheveled reflection in the full-length mirror. Panic set in as you realized your heels were missing – likely abandoned somewhere in the entrance hallway.

You peeked your head past the bedroom door, checking if the coast was clear. No one in sight. You kept your head low as you tiptoed along the corridor. Your heart raced with each step, the uncertainty of encountering the apartment’s owner weighing down on your consciousness. Lost in your haste, a collision abruptly halted your escape.

Fuck

As water splattered and your belongings scattered across the floor, the jarring sound of shattering glass pierced your ears. Before your bare feet could melt into the broken shards, a pair of strong arms caught you, preventing a painful misstep. A heavy silence settled over the room as you couldn’t bear to meet the eyes of the stranger. “Are you okay?” His voice was thick with an accent you couldn’t quite pinpoint, breaking through the tension. Unable to muster a response, you offered a timid apology, keeping your eyes trained on the floor as you began to gather your scattered belongings. Finally standing upright, you mustered the strength to meet the stranger’s gaze. Warm brown eyes met yours, framed by a freshly-trimmed beard and tousled brown locks – a picture of effortless charm, even in the disarray of early morning wakefulness.

You were lost in his eyes for a moment. He must have noticed as he let out a small chuckle, “I’m sorry for ruining your escape. I was just trying to get you a glass of water.” he explained with a soft smile, gesturing toward the now-spilled contents polled on the floor amidst the shattered glass. 

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you watched him bend down to collect the scattered glass. It seemed like a series of unfortunate events had led you to this moment – waking up in a stranger’s apartment, breaking a glass meant for you during your escape, and now, standing awkwardly as he cleaned up your mess. What made it even worse was that you didn’t even know his name. 

An uneasy silence hung in the air as he continued to tidy up. "So... last night was fun?" his smile genuine despite the situation. You could only manage a sheepish smile and a polite nod in response, feeling utterly mortified. He chuckled at your response, tossing the broken glass into the trash.

Once he finished cleaning up, he approached you again with a fresh glass of water in hand. Dressed in a black t-shirt neatly tucked into a pair of gym shorts, you couldn’t help but notice the definition of his muscles peeking through the fabric. You politely accepted the glass of water with trembling hands. Taking a hesitant sip, the cool water provided some relief to your throbbing headache.

His laughter broke through the tension as he observed your state. “You don’t remember my name, do you?” he teased, causing your cheeks to flush even deeper. You stammered out an awkward apology, feeling like you couldn’t sink any lower in embarrassment. 

“It’s alright, happens to the best of us,” he reassured you, his voice gentle and understanding. “Since it seems we’re both in need of a little memory jog, how about we start fresh? Hi I’m Nico,” he introduced himself with a mock bow. 

You felt a smile tug at your lips, appreciating Nico’s effort to lighten the mood – definitely not the reaction you’d expected after the awkwardness of being caught trying to escape his apartment. “Nice to meet you Nico, I am Y/N,” you gave him a small courtesy, mirroring his playfulness. His laughter was infectious, melting away the tension that had gripped you moments before. It was amazing how quickly his easygoing demeanor put you at ease.

“I would’ve offered you breakfast, but I have to head out to practice,” Nico explained with a smile, his warm brown eyes meeting yours. “Early morning practice after a night out, wow, you’re a fighter,” you teased, genuinely impressed by his dedication given your own current state. 

"Well, gotta do what you gotta do when you're captain," he replied with a grin, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "But I can offer you a ride home on the way.”

-

“YOU SLEPT WITH NICO HISCHIER?!” Sarah’s voice was a mixture of shock and excitement, drawing the attention of nearby patrons in the cafe. You hastily gestured for her to lower her voice, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks.

Sarah’s hand shot to her mouth covering it, quickly scanning her surroundings she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You slept with Nico Hischier!?” her eyes were wide with excitement, barely able to contain herself.

“I didn’t know!” you chuckled, shrugging in amusement. “Yeah, that’s because you’re boring and don’t watch sports!” Sarah teased. “He’s literally the captain of the New Jersey Devils!” Sarah exclaimed, her arms waving around excitedly. 

“How was it? Was it good?” Sarah fired off questions, her curiosity barely giving you enough time to answer. You laughed, trying to keep up with her rapid-fire interrogation. “You tell me,” you replied, taking a sip of your coffee. “I don’t remember, I mean, I didn’t even remember his name!”

Sarah’s eyes widened in realization. “You have to meet him again,” she urged, the sudden weight of missed opportunity sinking in. You groaned – you didn’t get his number. With a defeated sigh, you explained the predicament to Sarah.

“We’ll just have to go back to the club. tonight. “

-

The club pulsed with energy, red lights casting an enticing glow over the throngs of dancing bodies. Sarah and the girls were lost in the music, their laughter mingling with the bass thumping through the air. Despite their best efforts to drag you to the dancefloor, your attention remained divided, your gaze drifting to the entrance in hopes of spotting those familiar brown eyes.

It was a long shot, you knew, but it was worth trying. Why hadn’t you thought of exchanging numbers? You sighed, taking a sip of your amaretto sour. Amidst the chaos of the club, your purse buzzed incessantly, drawing you out of your thoughts. Fishing out your phone, you were met with an unknown number flashing on the screen. Normally, you wouldn't answer such calls, but tonight, emboldened by the alcohol coursing through your veins, you pressed the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” you shouted into the phone, hoping to be heard above the chaos of the club.

“I can see you're looking for me,” the voice on the other end replied, laced with the same thick accent. Your head snapped up, scanning the club for the source of the voice. And there he was, standing by a table surrounded by a group of guys you could only make out to be his teammates. His warm brown eyes locked onto yours, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he gave you a small wave. A surge of relief and excitement washed over you as you realized you hadn’t lost your chance after all. You couldn’t help but smile, you probably exchanged numbers during your drunken encounter, lucky for you. 

With a grin plastered on your face, you made your way through the pulsating crowd. The warmth of his presence drawing you closer, as the pulsating rhythm of the club faded into the background.

“Hey stranger,” you playfully smiled. “Ready for round two?”

[scudevils]

BEARD BURN WITH QUINN HUGHES PLEASE

trouble — QH43

pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader

warnings: smut, oral (f & m receiving), roadhead, no actual sex, praise, degradation, swearing, mention of a safe word, use of the word brat like once or twice, canucks losing (sorry quinny), reader is a bit annoying for a scene, a bit of sad quinn for like 2 mins, not proofread!!

synopsis: quinn losing a bet results in you getting to enjoy his beard for just a wee bit longer [4.2k]

a/n: hugeeee thank you to my hockey cunt @thegrantic for basically giving me the whole idea for this!! i waffled BIG TIME on this so a lot of it is filler, feel free to skip to the smut if that’s what your here for (i wont judge you)

you watched him from the comfort of your bed, eyes still sleepy and the morning sun being far too bright for your liking. he's fresh out the shower, steam rolling out of the en suite into the bedroom, windows coated in condensation which only seemed to intensify the suns rays.

morning had never, and you vowed would never, be your thing. but being with quinn meant early mornings, wether it was a run or a workout, he practically begged you to join him. and when he gave you those eyes who were you to reject him?

you weren't sure if it was his hectic schedule, or perhaps just because he liked the look, but he'd been beginning to grow his beard out more than before. you were used to a little stubble sure, but it was usually gone the day after you'd mention it, and you were so fucking happy he'd decided to grow it out.

it was becoming a daily test for you to not jump on him on him the longer he kept it, like a predator with their prey you just wanted to devour him.

from the steamed up windows you could see that he was rubbing the shaving cream on his face, finding the time to brush his teeth when you'd been off daydreaming, but it was the white froth on his face that caught your attention.

it takes practically all of your willpower to even get out of the bed, before 10am it was blasphemous for you, a sin you'd be repenting for the rest of your life, and you'd been brining quinn down with you for forcing you up so early. "what are you doing?" he jumps slightly at the sound of your voice, half expecting you to already be back to sleep that you'd basically snuck up on him.

“uh, shaving." he answers the obvious, motioning to the cream that still coated his cheek, ready to be cut away from the fresh blade he'd put on his razor.

you stop his hand before it can reach the razor, taking it in your own. "q, you can't shave."

quinn quirks an eyebrow at your words, a small laugh bubbling from his chests as the look on your face is so serious, like in your mind this is no laughing matter. "and why can't i shave?"

"cause you look hot with a beard?" you said, mimicking his earlier tone, the reason so painfully obvious to you although it hadn't even crossed your boyfriends mind when he'd started growing it out.

he can't help but laugh this time, the smallest of smug smiles threatening to pull at his lips and you could see the sides of them curving up. "you think so?" you nod your head at his words, like it was the clearest thing to ever understand, and you couldn't quite get why he didn't know that. "too bad, it's fucking itchy."

“quinn," you drag out his name in a whine, like a spoiled child who wasn't getting a toy they'd asked for, hoping it would change his mind, instead he only answered with a shake of his head before squeezing your hand and slipping his own from it, reaching for the razor. "why don't we make a bet."

this seemed to pique his interest, stopping his hand on the way to his face before he turned to look at you, the conversation finally not being had through looks in the mirror. "what kinda bet you thinkin'?" he entertained your request, wanting to see what you'd came up with in that short amount of time.

"well, you guys play tomorrow right?" you asked him, already knowing the answer was yes, and when quinn nodded apprehensively, you continued. "you lose, you keep the beard for another week. you win, you get to shave."

“or i could just shave now?" he propositioned, ignoring the conditions you'd already set.

"you do that and i cut you off."

"you wouldn't." he was quick to reply, what he assumed was an empty threat still not enough to convince him to keep the beard.

a smug smile made its way onto your face, you stepped an inch closer to him, running the tips of your fingers over his exposed chest, small droplets of water still clinging to the taut skin. "i have a hand hughes, i'll be just fine." you dragged out the last two words, emphasising your point to him.

"fine."

~

as usual, you were sat with the other wives and girlfiends, the printed "HUGHES 43" proudly displayed across your back, watching as the clock ticked away, too slowly for your liking, feeling like time was slowing down as they were down just one goal, every action felt like it'd been edited slower, dragging out the losing feeling.

you knew it'd be a tough game, at home and against vegas, it was just a recipe for a headache. they'd been as good as they could've been, quinn getting an early goal in the first period before vegas responded only two minutes later. a similar story in the second period, and now in the third with only a minute left they were lagging behind 3-2, hoping they could get a goal to drag it to overtime and at least salvage a point but luck was not on their side.

the familiar horn went off, signalling the end of the game, the loss of the home team, and the players skated off of the ice, and you could see quinn muttering to himself and kicking up snow as he made his way over to the tunnel, no doubt blaming himself for the loss.

it was wrong, you knew it you really did, that deep down a small part of you was happy they'd lost, after all it meant you'd won your and quinn's bet, but you pushed the part of you that wanted to gloat down, standing in the crowded hallway with the rest of the girls, waiting to greet their own significant others after the loss.

just your luck, quinn was always one of the last out, no doubt taking time to apologise to the guys for the (rare) mistakes he'd made in the game, and you were practically alone when he'd finally gotten himself showered and ready again, save for the security guard you'd found yourself in conversation with.

quinn glanced your way, bag strap draped over one of his shoulders, your eyes trail over his flushed face. he was still sweating, the shower doing nothing to tame the adrenaline rush, and the redness was just barely starting to fade from his cheeks down to his neck. "you ready?" he mumbled, a clear sign he wasn't in the mood for talking and you nodded your head, a quick smile and goodbye to the man who'd kept you company and you were leaving.

"you really did play well, q." from the outside perspective, your words were sweet, but quinn knew you well enough from the years of dating that you were bursting to rub it in that you'd won the bet, but you held back for his sake.

the drive home was practically silent, a stark contrast to how it usually was, even when they lost quinn had at least things to say to you, when he'd go a ramble about how good one of the guys had played or how he wished he'd done a play differently and you'd usually just nod your head and listen, it was all he needed, just a person to listen to him.

which was why it was so difficult to keep your words to yourself, you hated seeing him quiet, quinn was never quiet. you swore he could talk for both of you and still have things to say, so the silence was something different, something you definitely did not like.

you were nearly home, ten minutes left if the roads were clear, not that you were counting, but your eyes kept flickering to the radio display, the time clear in blue led's, as was the "radio off" sticking out to you.

so you decided to test your luck, fingers pressing at the one switch before quinn could question what you were doing, the song coming through the speakers one you recognised but not one you could name, and then you went back to looking out of the window, a quick flick of your eyes towards quinn to see his reaction before you did so.

he was quick to turn it back off, silence encapsulating the car once again but only for a few seconds before you pressed it on again, hearing a sigh fall from quinn's lips and you assumed he'd just given up fighting you on it. "have you always been this annoying?"

“since you met me, q." you quipped, a look over your shoulder thrown in his direction before you faced out of the window again, humming to yourself the tune of the song. "why'd you wanna sit in silence so badly?"

quinn didn't answer you, focus entirely on the road but you seen his grip onto the steering wheel just a little bit harder, knuckles turning white and his jaw clenched as the red light reflected against his features. "what, you not talking to me now?" you breathed out a disbelieving laugh, still not bothering to even look at him fully, maybe you were as bad as him. "don't be mad at me just cause you lost twice."

"fuck y/n, when'd you become such a brat?" finally, you turned to look at him, lips parting at his words and you found his eyes already on yours, a frenzied look on this as they grew a shade darker, a fire burning behind them like he was seeking out conflict, wanting a fight, like he was still on the ice.

"don't call me that."

"why, you're actin' like one right now aren't you?" the light turned green, the only way you'd realised was the way it shone against his face, different from the harsh red glow from before, and this time you could see the humour in his eyes, he was enjoying riling you up, and your eyes drifted from his face down to his hands on the steering wheel, tightening around the leather.

"how long till we're home?"

he quirked an eyebrow at your question, but answered anyway, wanting to know what you were planning. "about 5 minutes."

"you think i can get you off in 5 minutes?" you were already reaching across the console, the sweats he'd chose to wear doing nothing to hide the growing bulge beneath them and you heard him suck in a breath as you ran your hands over it, glancing back up to him to see he's tucked his bottom lip between his teeth.

"know you can do it in less." his words gave you a boost of confidence, quinn helping you push down his sweats and he lift his hips enough for you to rid him of them and his boxers.

its definitely an awkward arrangement, but with a little effort you manage to drape yourself across the console without too much discomfort on your part, right elbow resting between his thighs as you use that hand to stroke him lazily, feeling him harden under your hand before you drop your head pressing a teasing kiss to his tip, feeling his shudder under your arm. "y/n-"

you cut him off when you took just the tip in your mouth, one of his hands falling from the steering wheel to your back, dancing along your spine before it found its place in your hair, wrapping itself in the soft strands and tugging at the roots. feeling him twitch in your mouth when you circle the slit, you grin up at him, seeing his eyes flittering down to yours in a way that was definitely not road safe. "fuck, baby, please."

his pleas didn't fall on deaf ears, entertaining them as your lips brushed up the side of his cock, kissing along his length, before taking him further into your mouth. "only because you said please." this time you let his hand guide your head down against him, fingers flexing against your scalp, desperate to keep a grip on you but it was slowly slipping away.

he can hear you spluttering around him, saliva and pre cum escaping your lips and falling against your chest, the open cut shirt you'd worn at least giving him a nice view. another shaky groan rumbled in his chest, a moan threatening to spill from his mouth when your hand squeezed what your mouth couldn't take. "fuck, never gonna forget how good your mouth feels."

you pull off of him for just a second, catching your breath in the process, before you looked up at him. "never gonna have to." the promise was too sweet for the moment, but he couldn't help but appreciate it, he'd never have to forget you because he'll always have you.

entirely too encouraged by his praise and sounds, against his own direction, you push your head down to lightly gag around him, eliciting a moan from him. your own spit starts to hit your chest again, and the squeeze of your hand around him has him bucking his hips into your mouth, tip hitting against the back of your throat almost painfully but the sound of your name from his lips is enough to make up for it.

“i'm so close, so good to me-" you can feel his thighs tensing under your hand, his cock twitching in your mouth a tell tale sign that he was close, and all it took was pushing your head down till he repeatedly hit the back of your throat for him to be releasing down it, your hums vibrating against him only causing him to let out a groan, feeling him still in your throat and finally lift you off of him.

you almost feel a sense of pride when you look up at him, cheeks flushed for a second time tonight although for an entirely different reason, and chest heaving as he tried to catch him breath, matching your own laboured breathing as you did the same.

"told you you could do it in less." you let out a small laugh against his thigh, glancing up to the illuminated clock, just under five minutes since you'd last checked, and you force yourself to move from the position that had now become unbearably uncomfortable.

the turn in the road felt familiar, one you could recognise out of a lineup if you needed to, the one that took you home and you felt butterflies in your stomach, anticipation practically dripping down your thighs as quinn parked the car in your designated spot in the lot, your legs begging you were already at your apartment as they felt they'd buckle under any pressure.

you, however, powered through their protests, thankful you did as the comforting smell of your apartment filled your senses as quinn unlocked the door. the scent a perfect mix of yours and quinn's, the remnants of a once burnt candle nestled in there alongside the perfume you'd put on earlier.

there was something so domestic about the way quinn looked at you, like in a split second he's be down on his knees proposing to you, what was once just an apartment was now a home, your home. "quinn," the whine of his name broke him out of his trance, at some point you'd made your way over to him, just an inch away, needing to be closer. "have no idea how badly i want you, q."

"fuck, know i love it when you talk like that." he was quick to slot his lips over yours, the kiss harsh enough to knock the air from your lungs, filling them with him. his hand tangled in your hair, forcing your neck up with a gasp, allowing him access to the skin, marking you up with rough kisses against your pulse point.

it was magic really, how he was able to render you a whimpering mess with just a few kisses, hand grasping at the grown our strands of hair, longer than he'd had before but fuck did you love it. "quinn, please."

quinn lifted his head from your neck, swollen lips hovering over yours, brushing over them as he spoke. "please, what? what'd you need baby."

"your mouth, please, q." you were too desperate to have any shame, the only thought in your mind was of your own pleasure.

he pressed a searing kiss against your lips, as if telling you to be patient whilst he go to work with you. "only because you said please." he mocked your earlier words, using them against you and you wanted to roll your eyes at the smirk on his lips as he did so. your jeans were quickly discarded, leaving you only in your canucks jersey and panties underneath.

you could feel the warmth from his body when he hooked his hands underneath the waistband of your panties, carefully pulling them down your legs and you stepped out of them, leaving now just in his name-claimed jersey, the cold hitting your legs more than before and you wondered if it was placebo, you felt more exposed and your body reacted as if you were. his eyes seemed to darken more than they had before, a light blush coating his cheeks like it had the first time he'd seen like this.

quinn spread your legs apart when he lifted he pushed you down onto the bed, stepping in between your thighs, pressing kisses against your skin when, squeezing your thighs when he met them and leaving marks leading to where you needed him most. "hm, so lucky aren't i?" your head fell back when you felt his breath hitting your cunt, blowing hot hair on you to see you squirm, before he gently swiped a finger over your slit, your hips involuntarily bucking towards his hand. "all for me, yeah?"

you felt totally out of it, only nodding your head when pressed his thumb against your clit, your brain short-circuiting at the contact, only adding to the sensation when he flattens his tongue against you. he gave you no time react before his mouth found its way to your clit, your hand instantly reaching for his hair when it became tangled in the brown mess he also seemed to be growing out.

the burn of his beard against your sensitive skin only adds to the feeling, mixing insatiably with the pleasure you were feeling from his mouth on you, something you'd never get used to.

your other hand gripped at the clean white bed sheets, thighs tightening around his head like you were scared he'd move, holding him in place so that even if he tried he couldn't. quinn grabbed one of your legs, hooking it over his shoulder to allow himself a better angle, gently grazing his teeth over your clit, the hairs on his face tickling against your inner thigh, nearly having you melting into the bed, though it elicited a loud moan of his name from you.

there was no stopping the noises that came from your mouth, whimpers, whines and moans of his name falling from your lips at his relentless attack on your cunt. "feels so good quinn-" your words only encouraged him, walls clenching around his fingers when he curled two of them inside you, the feeling of that and his tongue circling your clit had you tumbling towards your first orgasm.

your head fell back against the bed, mouth open in a silent moan, wanting to scream but you couldn't find your voice, and eyes screwed shut from the pleasure. when quinn looked up he swore he saw died, went to heaven and seen a fucking angel, branding the sight in his memory for those long roadies.

your release didn't stop his attack, fingers still moving at the same pace they had before and tongue still relentless against your clit. "know you can give me another one." he mumbled against your skin, the vibration sent shockwaves through your body. his lips quicken against you, his fingers moving inside you at a bruising pace that you can feel your second orgasm beginning to form, still so sensitive from the first, your clit twitching under his tongue.

"quinn, please, gonna cum again." your words heeded little warning, your thighs clenching around his head again, pulling him closer to you in angle that had you writhing against the sheets, moving your hips against his face to gain more friction.

on fire was all you could describe the way your body felt, nerves alive, hairs standing that you didn't even know you had. quinn's touch against your skin feeling electric, like he was shocking you each time he came in contact, the warmth of his lips travelling up your stomach, a trail of your slick being left in his path that any other thing would have you embarrassed, but not now. “taking it like a fucking slut, letting me fuck you how i want to, yeah?”

you swore you could drown in the smell of him, one that came so natural it only made you fall for him even harder every time he was this close to you. he drove you insane, nodding your head frantically without even fully registering his words.

the coil in your stomach tightened until it couldn’t any more, snapping and all you saw was white, eyes screwed shut as your body felt like it wasn’t yours anymore, thighs shaking around quinns waist as he moved to press a chaste kiss to your lips, talking you through your release as he continued the movement of his fingers.

the rise and fall of your chest was something quinn would never get sick of, so addictive that he was the one fucking you so good, even with only his tongue and fingers, that you could barely breathe. in fact, it only spurred him on more.

“think you can give me another?”

you whined at his words, shaking your head although he saw the way you clenched around nothing at the thought. “quinn, can’t-“

“you won remember, winners get rewards.”

there’s not much time for you to react when he’s back against your skin, the friction from his beard has you moaning, the sensation something you could definitely get used to. “remember the safe word?”

nodding your head, you let a small smile form on your swollen lips, no matter how past gone you both were he still checked you were okay with everything. “blue.”

“good girl, gonna make you feel so good.” quinn hooks his arm underneath both of your thighs, dragging you to the edge of the bed and he’s on the floor, throwing your legs over his shoulder and pressing a teasing kiss onto your clit, your head lulling against the cushion from the overstimulation.

he’s almost too slow for you with the way his tongue moves against you, savouring the moment at the wrong time when you press his head further against you, hand on the back of your head in a similar way to the way he had when you were in the car. “need more, q.”

a string of curses escapes your lips when he take your clit in his mouth, sucking on it till your practically sobbing, and his hands move from holding you in place to your hands, a small squeeze of your hands enough to comfort you through anything.

“fuck, quinn-“

your hands begin to push against his head, the sensation becoming too overwhelming that it’s almost sore. your overstimulated clit feeling spent from the night. he simply grabs you by the wrists and pins then down by the side of your body, back to keeping you in place. his tongue flicks against your throbbing clit, a scolding for moving away from him, before he’s back to sucking on it.

your voice is hoarse, moans are now broken whimpers and whines, lacking the energy to even speak, third orgasm approaching quicker than the others, hurling towards you, feeling like it’ll run you over. “fuck, can i quinn?”

his beard scratches against your thigh, the skin now a burning red, his pupils blown out as he looks up at you, tongue still attacking your clit. “let go for me, baby, last one.”

quinn worked you through your orgasm, soft kisses being pressed against your skin, a stark contrast to the relentless pulse of his fingers rubbing your clit, until you had to wrap your own wrist against his, forcing him away from you.

he left a trail of kisses up for your body, reaching your lips when he slotted his lips over yours, not wanting anything more than to just kiss you. you let out a whine when he broke the kiss though, needing him close to you, when instead he went into the en suite, returning with a dampened cloth.

you hissed in pain as he dabbed it against your reddened skin, the gentleness of his touch calming down the stinging. “promise me you’ll never shave again?”

quinn laughed at your request, but nonetheless nodded his head, both of you knowing it to be a hollow promise, but already fantasising about when he grows it out again.

[paper-mario-wiki]

I'm sending you an ask even though I'm not sure I should. I envy you, I think. You seem so happy and confident after transition and I really like to see it, but it also stirs a kind of grief in me that I don't really know how to handle. I'm six foot six and as wide across the shoulders as some people are tall and I have absolutely no hope of looking like anything other than a masculine linebacker. I'm trying to learn how to like it, going for a bear look, but some part of me sees a happiness in you that I don't think I can ever really have. none of this is your fault and though i know it's weird I hope you can still read this as a compliment because I do like seeing that even if it's not something I can do, sometimes people can end up happy with their gender. I think you're a beautiful person and I like seeing your online presence.

sorry for the big ramble wall I'm just going through it tonight. I guess I just wanted to say thanks for being visible.

i am 6 foot 1, and throughout my life people told me i'd make a good football player.

here are the lifestyle things i did (that dont really have anything to do with gender and were just healthy changes and experiments) that let me stumble into getting over this feeling easier:

eliminate soda entirely. no more soda at all. not with fast food, not out of a can from the fridge, none. drink water. its sooooooo fucking yummy.

walk around plenty every day. in circles if you have to. put on headphones, or a speaker if you're inside. listen to music or some books or talk to your dog or your plants or yourself or record a podcast or something, but just make sure you're walking around. the form this comes in for me is walking around outside with my dog for 40 minutes, 3 to 5 times a day depending on how shes feeling.

put on some eyeliner. you dont have to shave or put on a full face of makeup or nothin. just go to the supermarket's generic makeup aisle and get any old 8-dollar eyeliner. nobody's gonna see, you're just trying somethin out in the privacy of your bathroom.

learn to make your hair look nice. it's an often neglected but very important part of your overall silhouette.

pay attention to how you're dressing. are you putting on clothing that you actively enjoy wearing, or do you throw on comfortable pants and baggy tshirt with a design you like? an easy start for this is jackets. theres SO many dope vintage jackets on ebay and in thrift stores, that's how i started experimenting with making something i'd consider a "wardrobe" and not just "clothes".

give this some time and see how you feel. pay attention to how your body feels. if you feel lighter, or like walking around becomes less of a burden, try shaving your beard, and then try on the eyeliner again.

even a bear can become dainty, if they actively seek it out.

[maaneskin]

THE ANATOMY OF LOVING YOU. jack hughes x f!reader, 1.2k

note, repost from old blog also , rewritten. doll face am gna kms

summary, jack loves you a lot — especially when you have a beard made of bubbles

a soft smile was playing on jacks lips as he watched you, the light of his life, give herself a messy beard made from the bubbles that filled the bathtub. 

“how do i look?”

he grinned, “sexy,” 

you stifled a giggle, throwing him a wink, “what if i made eyebrows as well? would that look good?” you gathered more bubbles and brought them to your face when jack grabbed your hand, halting your movement, “what? you don’t think it would suit me?” 

jack laughed, his hand holding yours, “on no, honey, i think you would look sexy as fuck but it would likely get in your eyes,”

“yeah,” you sighed sadly, removing your hands from his and dipping them back under the water. you began blowing at the bubbles, moving them around the small bathtub, not noticing the way jack was looking at you.

jacks breathing slowed as he watched you play with the bubbles — bubble beard still in place. he felt utterly calm sitting in the small bathtub with you, in your newly bought, first shared, apartment. the small window was open, letting him hear all the people outside going about their day. he could hear the radio standing in the living room playing another overplayed song everyone under the age of 25 hated. he could smell the freshly baked cake that was cooling in the kitchen; the two of you had baked it together before getting in the tub, or rather, you baked it while jack stood behind you, arms wrapped around your waist, placing soft kisses everywhere his lips could reach. he could smell the scented candle standing on the bathroom counter luke had given as a housewarming gift. the flame adding to the ambiance of the moment.

but none of that mattered as he watched you play around with the bubbles, effectively, making more of them until both your upper bodies were covered completely. jack hadn’t noticed he was in a deep daze until you splashed him with water. he gasped overdramatically, loving how your smile grew wide, “now you’ve done it!” he threw himself across the tub and onto you, water and bubbled spilling onto the tiled floor. jacks heart sped up at the familiar sound of your laugh echoing throughout the apartment. he let go of your naked body to cup his hand underwater. 

“j, don’t, don’t do it!” you managed through laughter, eyes on jacks water-filled hands above your head, “jack, it’s gonna spill everywhere-!” the water from his hands spilled down onto your head and the floor, “jack!” you removed the water from your eyes, “that’s gonna take forever to clean,” you whined, a smile still on your face.

“you started it, doll face,” jack grinned brightly, placing a kiss on your forehead, “we should get out of here, the water’s cold,” he reached over to the toilet where you had laid out 2 towels. he grabbed one for himself and got out. you got up after him, standing naked as you reached for the second towel. jack wolf whistled, making you laugh and tell him to shut up.

“you’re hot, baby, i can’t help it,” he smirked, leaning in for a kiss.

you were the first to pull away, eyes closed — kissing him was bliss, “i love you,” you muttered.

“i love you, too, doll face,” jack pressed a kiss to your forehead and another on the side of your head, sighing in content, “let’t get dry, we have a cake to eat,”

“we also have a floor to dry,” 

jack sighed, suddenly feeling the water on his feet, “yeah, i forgot about that,”

after getting dry and changing into comfortable clothes (jack wearing one of your oversized hoodies), you got to soaking up the water with your towels.

jack stared down at you from his place on the toilet, getting lost in thought. god, he loved you. never before in his life had he loved someone the way he loved you. everything you did made him feel something. everyday he went to bed excited to exist with you the next day. the day he met you was ingrained into his mind; your cute concentrated face as you wrote something down, your laptop with cute stickers, your socks with cute cats on them. (your socks were his conversation starter — luckily you thought it was funny). it had been 6 years since then, since you agreed to go on a date with him. your first date to the zoo was one of his favorite days. the way your eyes had sparkled as you held his arm, dragging him around to see the different animals. the way his heart had sped up when you smiled at him after seeing the penguins up close had made it clear you would be special to him. 

“jack,” you threw one of the towels at him, hitting him in the face and getting him out of his daydream. you giggled at his confused face, “help me,”

he slid off the toilet, gently swatting you with the wet towels. when the water was gone, he moved closer to you, pulling you into his arms, “are we eating the cake when we’re done here?” he leaned closer to your neck.

“no, it’s for desert; after dinner,”

“but you’re my desert,” he placed a few kisses on your neck before pulling away. he smiled at the deadpan you wore, though he could see you were flustered. he was more than aware of how much you loved it when he kissed your neck and he always used it to his full advantage. 

you gave him a gentle shove, “stop it,”

“never,” jack leaned back in and blew raspberry kisses on your neck, making you laugh. he couldn't hide his smile at the sound. he loved your laugh — it was his favorite sound (your moans being a close second), and he hoped to hear for the rest of his life. 

he placed a final kiss on your neck before pulling away, “i know we said it like an hour ago, but i love you… like a lot. more than i’ve ever loved anyone before. i wanna spend my entire life with you” he looked into your eyes, “you’re the light of my life and i-” his swallowed the lump in his throat, clearing it after, “i love you,”

you blinked away tears. his declaration had your heart racing. jack was never verbal with his love, but when he was it never failed to make you emotional. your eyes ran over his face. meeting his beautiful, bright eyes. you could tell he was getting more and more nervous as you remained silent. 

“say something,” he pleaded, feeling like he might explode.

you gulped, “i- i love you. i love you, too. you- i-”

jack’s eyes softened and he could tell you were getting overwhelmed. with closed eyes he kissed your forehead, pulling you in for a hug, “i love you, doll face,” he whispered, before falling silent knowing you needed a moment to collect yourself. his hand went up and down you back, placing the occasional kiss to the side of your head, “you okay?”

you nodded, face still pressed against his neck. arms wrapping around his body, returning his hug.

“dinner?” he asked, getting up from the floor before helping you. he kissed your lips, each cheek, and forehead before pulling away. he grabbed your hand and dragged you to the kitchen, just like how you dragged him to see the lions on your very first date.

[userlando]

fill her veins — lando norris

lando norris x fem!reader [3.5k] summary: your friend’d had you in all the different ways. fast and hard, deep and bone rattling but this was his favourite. lazy, slow and deep. warnings: 18+ explicit smut & language, friends with benefits, porn without plot, lazy sex, unprotected (piv) a/n: to the anon that dropped this concept in my ask box, I hope you don’t mind that I took the idea and ran with it. I have so many drafts to finish but this just wouldn’t leave my mind. consider this as a thank you for all the amazing love you’ve poured me with lately, I love you guys so much!! lmk what you think of this!

Lando has an odd taste for trashy reality tv shows. He claims that he doesn’t, that he usually puts them on for background noise but he always ends up settling down on the nearest flattest surface; Eyes glued to the screen. It’s funny, it’s not something you’d expect and most of all, you don’t really mind it. Because he doesn’t care if you don’t pay any attention to it, as long as you’re either in his lap or spooning him.

He’d texted you earlier tonight and you hadn’t expected it, not really. You figured that after the long weekend in Belgium, he’d be ready to travel where the wind took him without any worry about the next weekend where he’d have to show off his best side and bring home a win for his team. Lando had talked about the Maldives and even Singapore, hinting at you coming with him but you’d been quick to shut him down, claiming that your life couldn’t be put on hold. Because it couldn’t.

But he’d gone home, spending exactly three hours with Max before the fucker abandoned him to hang out with his girlfriend and Lando was bored out of his mind when the flat got too quiet, so quiet that he could hear the neighbours flushing their toilets. Then you’d sent him a funny video of cats and Lando had responded with an ‘are you home?’ after laughing himself silly to the video.

That was three hours ago, he’d pressed a smacking kiss to your cheek when you’d opened the door for him, sniffing the air because he could clearly smell the bolognese that you’d made, giving you a look that you recognised so intimately. You’d seen the pleading look plenty of times in various situations, and now it was saying ‘can I please have whatever’s cooking in the kitchen?’ And who were you to deny him?

Lando had shovelled a plate and a half of spaghetti, moaning over how good it was and completely ignoring your rolling eyes of fond exasperation and a little shyness, and then the both of you had settled on your sofa on top of each other with Love Island playing in the background.

You were dozing, half conscious and absolutely not interested in what was going on, but Lando? Lando was enraptured, eyes shining with interest in the dark when you tilted your head up to look at him. The glow of the television cast pretty shadows on his face, the long eyelashes and the beard he’d decided to grow out on his upper lip and chin. It looked good on him. And better yet, it felt good on your sensitive skin. There had been too many times to count where he’d rub it raw and sore, between your legs so you couldn’t wear dresses and skirts in fear of your thighs rubbing together, or your face when he kissed you as deeply as he did.

You still remembered the time when you’d put on an excessive amount of lipbalm after a night of heavy petting, catching Max’s raised eyebrows across the table. He didn’t say anything, but he might as well could have with how expressive his eyes and face were. It was unnerving.

Lando sensed you shifting on his chest, peering down at you with his bushy eyebrows pulled together. It was dark, the television the only provider of light but you saw the confusion clear as day in his eyes as they flitted across your face, trying to gauge your facial expression.

“What?” He asked, hands halting where they’d been stroking up and down your back subconsciously. You immediately missed the soothing motion of them, having gotten quite used to the impromptu back massage.

“Nothin’.” You murmured, laying your head back down with your ear pressed to his chest.

The steady beat of his heart was like music to your ears, lulling you to a slow sleep that you could almost see on the horizon and Lando wasn’t making it any easier to stay awake with the way his hands were gently scratching your back with his blunt fingernails over your shirt. He knew you loved it, did it as often as he could.

You let out a pleased little hum when his hands found their way under your shirt, fingertips mapping out the bumps of your spine. Up, up, up, and then he stopped with a small noise in his throat.

It made you hide a smile into his hoodie, knowing exactly where his mind was going when his fingers travelled to either side of your back; Right where your bra strap would’ve went, if you were wearing one.

Lando clearly seemed pleased with his new discovery, heart thudding just a little harder under your ear as he shifted beneath you. You sucked in a quiet breath, looking up at him just in time for him to stare back.

“No bra, eh?” His lips pulled into a slow, playful smile that had you smiling, tongue in cheek. “Cheeky.”

“I never wear one around the house, twat.” You pointed out.

“Fair enough.” He nodded, tightening his arms around you to force you upwards on his chest, putting you face to face. “Hi.”

He blinked up at you, slowly, like sleep was on the doorstep and knocking. Lando looked tired but there was an underlying layer of lust in his eyes that you’d come to recognise. It never failed to send a thrill up your spine and it was what prompted you to close the small distance between the two of you, noses brushing against each other as he exhaled teasingly.

“Lando…” You frowned as you went to kiss him, only for him to pull away.

It didn’t escape you how whiny you sounded, but you hadn’t gotten laid in almost two weeks and he’d been sending you very suggestive photos and texts when he was away.

Never mind that you’d started it, firing off a photo with no additional text of your tits, knowing that he was most likely in a briefing with his team and there was a major chance that someone nearby would see the photo over his shoulder if he’d open it up without any warning.

But you didn’t care. It’s what made it fun, after all. Especially when he’d sent a series of exclamation and question marks, cursing you out for doing it so publicly.

“You’re so impatient, darling.” He tsked you, nipping your lower lip when you pushed forward in hopes of him kissing you.

You pouted until his face broke out into a smile, bringing a hand up to the back of your head; Fingers sliding into your hair for a grip as he finally pushed his lips against yours.

It was slow and chaste at first, a kiss to your upper lip before he sucked on the lower one, relishing in the stuttered exhale you released into his mouth. There was no denying that Lando was a good fucking kisser, ever so patient and passionate and it was only made evident when he pried your lips apart to taste your tongue. His hand spanned against your cheek, thumbing your chin to keep your mouth open as he licked into it. You could taste the faint spices of the food he’d had earlier, along with the sweetness of the bag of Squashies you kept in your pantry, only because he liked them. It was a heady mix.

You couldn’t lie and say that it wasn’t erotic, that it didn’t make your toes curl and your spine tingle with all kinds of emotions when his tongue slid against yours so sensually. He truly took his time, loving on your lip and kissing you so thoroughly that you were out of breath and a little dazed by the time he pulled away. He thumbed your lower lip, his own smiling and pink, bitten raw.

Lando allowed the both of you a few seconds to catch your breaths, immediately going for another round but this time he dove straight in, kissing you deeply. It was when the both of you started to let out these breathy little moans against each other’s mouths and grinding slowly that Lando took action, sliding his other hand that had been idle on your back, down your spine and slipping into your shorts.

He felt the curve of your ass, his palm swallowing up your cheek as he grabbed it in a painfully delicious grip that had you grinding down against him, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Your lips dropped open, moaning into his mouth when you felt his hardness press against your crotch. It relieved a little pressure off of you, but there was no denying that you were soaking and in need of more. More of Lando, more of his touch.

“Fuck, I love this arse.” He trapped his bottom lip between his teeth when his hand tightened on the flesh of your cheek, fingers no doubt bruising the skin. It felt amazing. “Can’t wait to taste you.”

You made a noise of protest against his cheek, where you’d been pressing your face against it, hands cupping his cheek.

“No,” you murmured against his mouth before kissing him. “No tasting, just need you inside me.”

Lando nodded gently, reaching a hand down to your shorts in a practiced motion to run his fingers gently between your folds. His eyes left yours to look at your crotch, jaw going slack at the wetness he found there and you whimpered when his wet finger touched your clit, circling it until you were squirming.

“Need you.” You murmured against his ear, pressing your face to the side of his and nudging your nose against his cheek.

He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to because he was already slipping a finger into you; a second one joining him soon after. Lando stretched you out, feeling your warm breath against his cheek and hearing your poorly concealed moans of pleasure as he worked you, sounding a lot like heaven to his ears. He crooked his fingers and fucked you gently, thumb notching against your swollen bud just to hear your breathing pick up.

It was a telltale sign that you were close, hands clutching at his hoodie, right over his chest and it made his head dizzy how your legs were locking up around his hips the closer you got. He turned his head to find your lips, messily slotting them over your mouth and swallowing your high pitched groans as you came around his fingers.

Your body shook, hands flexing in their tight grip of his hoodie and Lando marvelled at the sighs and sounds you were making, letting you trap his bottom lip to suck on it. That one gesture made every ounce of blood rush to his cock, so fast that he almost went dizzy with it and he hurriedly pulled his fingers out of your tight clench, sliding his fingers into his mouth for a quick taste of your juices.

You made a small sound of protest, feeling boneless and too tired to chastise him for making such a show of it. He loved making you come on his fingers, loved it even more when he could suck the slick off of his digits because you’d always squeak in embarrassment and swat at him with your hands.

It took a lot of effort to adjust yourself on top of him, reaching your weak arms down between the two of you to pull at his shorts. Lando wasn’t much of a help, watching silently as you yanked his shorts down far enough to get his cock out. It was rigid, sticking up so lewdly and flushed pink and you licked your lips; craving to get your mouth on it.

But you were too tired, and Lando was clearly way too impatient to wait any longer as he pulled your shorts and underwear to the side, grabbing himself by the base to guide himself to your centre. You bit your lip, anticipating the burning stretch but he didn’t push in, sliding his length between your lips to slick himself up instead.

You opened your mouth to tell him to get on with it but the words died on your tongue along with your last brain cell when the head of his cock nudged your clit, making you shudder at the unexpected sensitivity.

“Fucking hell,” Lando cursed in a murmur, sounding dazed and not at all there.

Your eyes flickered up to him just in time to witness as he brought his other hand to his mouth, dribbling saliva onto the length of his fingers and bringing it back down to stroke his cock. It was lewd, so disgustingly hot and you had to have him right now.

Lando must’ve felt the same because he was finally moving, notching himself against your hole and waiting for your wordless consent that contained of a quick nod and a needy sound, before he raised his hips and pushed himself into you.

You responded with a keening sound, pushing your hips down and taking way more of him in the process than you were ready for. It burned, stretched to the limit with only spit and slick to help you take him, but you both had worked with less before.

And Lando knew how to read your body, knew that your fisted hands meant for him to pause, to breathe and let you get used to his size. It never got easier, there was so much thickness to him that could simultaneously bring so much pleasure, but also pain if you weren’t too careful.

A sadistic part of you loved it though. You loved feeling him for days after a good lay, would often rile him up to the point that he’d bend you over and fuck you silly.

Your skin still tingled when you thought of the early days of your arrangement, where you’d been at his place late at night. You’d played Call of Duty and gotten him so worked up that he shoved you down on the sofa, ass up and face down, pulling a bone shattering orgasm from you with the help of his sinful mouth before he fucked you so hard that you were drooling and muffling your moans into the cushions. It was a worthless effort though, Max had heard you and he’d made it clear during breakfast the next day.

“You good?” He asked, touching your chin with his thumb and you blinked, realising that you’d drifted someplace else completely.

You nodded slowly, holding his gaze as he pulled back and thrust forward, rattling your bones and pulling a moan from your lips. Your fingers ran through the hairs on the back of his head, pulling his face close to yours as he started fucking you slowly, reaching so deeply inside of you that the sensations made your eyes flutter and roll.

Lando had a hard time keeping his eyes open and on you, watching your mouth gap open and closed in unintelligible words and sharp gasps, eyelids fluttering shut. He kissed you when you started moving your hips against his, adjusting your positions so you were fully straddling him. It must’ve done something for you because you were suddenly pulling at his hair, his head going back with it and mouth going slack around a groan.

It put your mouth in level with his throat, thick and exposed, so pretty that you couldn’t help but suck bruises into the vulnerable skin.

You moved against each other, fucking slowly like you had all the time in the world, kissing and bruising each other up with the help of your hands and mouths.

Your friend’d had you in all different ways. Fast and hard, deep and bone rattling but this was his favourite. Lazy, slow and deep. Where he could feel every tight and warm crevice of you, feel you slicking him up the wetter you got.

Lando’s breaths grew deeper, groans becoming more guttural and you knew he was close to his climax; riding him just a bit harder to help him get there.

He slid both hands around your hips, slipping into your shorts and grabbing your cheeks in bruising handfuls with a moan; Needy and whimpering against your mouth and you kissed him harder in response.

His fingers slipped between your ass cheeks, and the slight touch to your hole took you by surprise, your body suddenly seizing up as you cried out your sudden climax. It was like the breath had been punched out of you, coming so hard on his cock that Lando had to stop the movements of his hips because the tightness became too restrictive.

The both of you grabbed at each other, mouth to mouth, stealing each others breath as Lando fucked up once, twice before he released a guttural moan; shooting off into you.

You could feel him inside, feeling all too sensitive and absolutely exhausted from your orgasm to do anything but take it. Lando was giving off these small moans, gasping like he couldn’t breathe properly and it was only when he started shuddering from oversensitivity that you attempted to get off of him.

He slid out easily, cock wet as you dripped with him and it was such a filthy sight that you couldn’t help but flush warmth all over.

You knew that you’d have to get up eventually and shower, feeling disgusting and entirely too warm to stay wrapped in each other. But Lando wasn’t ready to let you go yet, and neither were you, to be honest. You let him wrap you up in his arms, nuzzling his face into your throat and exhaling tiredly.

“That was exactly what I needed.” He murmured hoarsely into your throat.

You hid a smile into his damp curls, cupping the side of his face and bringing his head up to face you. He blinked, squinting eyes and blown out pupils, and you thought that he’d never looked as good as he did now. So relaxed with no worry in the world.

It was hard to refrain from kissing him, pushing small kisses to his cheeks and one to his lips that he tiredly responded too. It was like it took way too much energy to move his lips, and it made you smile when he whined.

“Can you carry me to bed?” He asked and you reached your fingers up to pinch the tip of his nose.

“Absolutely not.” You wiggled on top of him, pulling a strangled sigh from his lips. “We need a wash first, and you’ve got a lot of work to do.”

That made him crack an eye open to stare at you in confusion.

“Work?” He frowned.

“You came in me, you’ll get it out.” You said, like it was obvious.

Lando’s eyes narrowed, “You’re the one who likes it.”

“I didn’t ask for it.”

His hand came down on your ass cheek, the slap hard enough to make you jump with a yelp. You glared at him with no real malice, ignoring the spike of heat that the unexpected pain sent up your spine because now was not the time to delve deeper into your interests of pain.

“You didn’t have to.” He said, matching your defiant tone of voice now. “Your body said it all, baby.”

You faked a gag, moving to roll off of him and he let you go without any fight.

“You’re gross. Get out of my flat.”

Lando cackled, making a poor attempt at sitting up on the sofa. You watched him struggle for moment, trying not to smile in amusement at the way his hair was all messy, curls wild and unruly.

“I’ll help you out,” He said and you knew there was a catch coming, judging by the tone of his voice. “If I can go down on you.”

You grimaced, as if the thought of him licking you clean didn’t make you clench. It wasn’t really a normal occurrence, but it did happen on rare occasions. Lando was a lot filthier in bed than you’d originally thought, and discovering his kinks had been an adventure so far.

“Oh, fine.” You sighed with a flourish, like you were doing him a favour rather than the opposite. “But you have to wash my hair first.”

You had your back turned to him now, walking in the direction of your bathroom but you could almost hear Lando’s exasperated eye roll, making you a hide a smile as you pushed the bathroom door open.

“Blow me.” He muttered.

“Maybe I will.” You teased.

Lando gave you no time to turn around, crowding up behind you and wrapping his arms around your torso to bring you flush against him. The sharpness of his teeth on your shoulder made you squeal with a giggle, squirming in his hold but he was too strong.

“Come on then,” He pressed his face to the side of your neck and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Get your ass in there, I want to get my mouth on you before you start dripping.”

You’d never moved faster than you did.

[holylulusworld]

Indecent Proposal (3)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, shitty boyfriend, the reader doesn’t take shit from no one, tension, sexy mobsters, slow burn (kinda), talk about sex, horny mobsters, possessive mobsters

A/N: This is a shorter, interlude chapter. I wanted to go straight for the smut but decided against it because...I'm a tease :)

Indecent Proposal (2)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

In your youth, when you made a scrapbook for your future self, you never imagined ending up despising someone so much that you wished they were dead. It wasn’t in your plans that you end up between two mafia bosses who are about to kill your boyfriend.

“Do you want us to do it fast or slow?” Bucky nuzzles your cheek. He purrs your name, his intentions clear. “Name it, and we will do it.”

“I want him out of my life,” you sniff, and drop your gaze, “but…” You take a deep breath. “I don’t want to be responsible for his death. I can’t live knowing you killed him because of me.”

“Scott Lang will never come back to this town, and you’ll never hear from him,” Steve casually says as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to make people disappear. “If you don’t want us to kill him, he’ll live.”

You look away when Steve drags your now ex-boyfriend out of the room. Scott screams your name, begging you to take your words back.  You choke out a sob but don’t stop the mobster. Scott sold you to the mobsters without a second thought.

“He’ll never bug you again.”

“I don’t want him dead,” you lift your gaze to look at Bucky. “For tonight, I want to go home and…” You shake your head. “I can’t just…this is not how this will go. If you want me, you have to earn it. I’m not going to be a breeder.”

“You’re a lady after all,” you can hear the smirk in Bucky’s voice. It’s hard to ignore his piercing blue eyes, and the darkness in them. “I understand that you want to get to know us better before you go on your knees for me.”

You gasp at his crudeness. No man ever talked to you like this. “Maybe I want you to go on your knees for me first. I like me who can lick my pussy good.”

He flashes you a smirk and gives you a wink. You know better than falling for his charms and playfulness. Bucky is still one of the men holding your life in his hands.

“Aw, baby doll. Stevie and I can eat cunt for hours. If you are a good girl,” he says and cups your face with his metal hand, making you gasp, “I’ll let you ride my face one day.”

“Did you get started without me?” Steve walks back inside the room, as you try to find your voice. These men truly know how to make a woman nervous. “Just you know, my beard and face make a perfect throne for you, doll.”

“Stevie, she wants to get to know us before we go down and dirty,” Bucky whispers as runs his thumb over your cheek. The cool metal against your skin is a stark contrast to his fiery gaze. “Do we want to give her the chance to get to know us or do we want to have our way with her right here and now?”

“We are gentlemen, my love,” Steve runs his hand over Bucky’s back, making the mobster shudder. “Maybe she likes to watch.” The blonde flashes you a smile. “What do you say? Do you want to watch me taking Bucky apart? He makes the most beautiful noises for me.”

“I—”  You lick your dry lips. This must be a dream. The most beautiful men you ever saw fight for your attention and want to breed you. Even though you have to admit, that they are both scary as shit you can’t help but feel attracted to these men.

“Stevie don’t overwhelm her,” Bucky tuts. He brings you into his arms, shamelessly roaming your body with his hands. “Hmm…so soft and warm. I will love marking your body as mine.”

“Ours,” the blonde corrects. “We can’t let you go home, doll. You’ll only overthink things. How about you sleep in our guestroom? I promise nothing you don’t want will happen.”

You take a deep breath to calm your nerves. If you don’t stand up for yourself tonight, they will rule your life completely. “No,” you confidently say. “I will go home and think about everything happening tonight in the morning.”

“Doll,” Steve warns.

“You are allowed to drive me home, though,” you flash Steve a smile. “Gentlemen always make sure that their date comes home safely. Right?”

“Steve,” Bucky looks at his husband. Steve’s cheek twitches, just like his hands. He had other plans and now you want to go home. “It’s a great opportunity to have a look at her home. We can check on security and stuff.”

“Hmm…no good.” Steve pokes your window with his finger. “I could break into this death trap within two minutes or less.”

“Steve,” Bucky tries to stop his husband from throwing you over his shoulder to run away with you. For months, they have been watching you. Now that they finally got you in their clutches, Steve cannot wait to make you theirs completely. “Be nice.”

“Uh-the landlord just repaired the window, and I got a new lock,” you point out. The men are not convinced. Your small apartment cannot compare with their mansion, you know that. But watching them inspect your home makes you feel uneasy. “I know it’s not much, but it’s mine.”

“No, no, doll,” Steve turns his attention toward you, and away from the lock. “It’s a nice apartment. We know Scott didn’t help you pay for shit.”

“While you are here, we should talk about a few rules,” you try to sound confident. “No talking about Scott. Not now, not ever.”

“Noted, doll,” Bucky calls from inside your bedroom. He got bold and opened your drawer to look at your underwear. “Hmm…silk, cotton…oh…woo-hoo…”

“Hey! That’s…” You gasp as Bucky twirls an open-back lace panty around his finger. “I found the naughty stuff, Stevie. She will look so good wearing these only for us. I bet,” he licks his sinful lips as he throws the panties at his husband, “she’ll look even better wearing these while full of cock.”

“Buck, relax,” Steve laughs as he can see the prominent erection strain against Bucky’s pants. “Y/N wants to take things slow.”

“I want to know if I’m only going to be a body you can use or part of your life. If you want me to carry your child, give me more than dick…”

Tags in reblog.

[c0zyrainfall]

Damian: Ooh. There's a cute girl over there.

Anya: What.

Damian: Do you wanna be my friend? Only if your dad is an elitist tho

Anya: My dad's a doctor

Damian: Ew imagine being as poor as the upper middle class

Anya: No

Damian: I hate you.

Anya: I hate you too.

Anya: Ugh, I'm sorry for punching you I guess.

Damian: I'm literally in love with you.

Anya: what

Damian: WHAT. I SAID I HATE YOU

Anya: what 😭

Anya: Guess I'll befriend him? For the mission!

Damian: I cannot stand the sight of you crying. You're not allowed to cry in my presence. It's too dangerous because I'll just give you anything you want.

Anya: I want sweets

Damian: You're so unfair

Anya: Well shoot, you're gonna get a tonitrus bolt unless I save you rn.

Damian: No

Anya: Take my hankerchief

Damian: I literally owe you my life now

Anya: I'll settle for cake.

Anya: Omg our moms are friends now. We should become friends so we can beat them at friendship

Damian: Hold up did my mom reveal all my embarrassing secrets

Anya: Nah

Damian: Darn... I mean that's great, but we're still not friends

Anya: Camping trip!

Damian: Camping trip:

Anya and Damian: wait no we're stuck in the woods together

Damian: Guess I'll hold your hand 🙄

Anya: 🥹

Damian: Ugh I brought the cake... Nvm my friends ate it

Anya: Omg a terrorist hijacked the bus. I'm gonna go save everyone

Damian: Wait no ur gonna get yourself killed!

Anya: what are you worried

Damian: Yeah kinda 😭 Just a lil but only because you're my classmate

Anya: well too bad I'm saving everyone anyways... Oh nvm the terrorists just strapped a bomb to my neck.

Damian: Put it on me instead

Anya: ....

Anya: I saved everyone

Damian: I guess you did. That was kind of a little bit cool.

Anya: Well you were pretty cool too when you tried to take the bomb for me

Damian: I only did it cuz we're friends 😭

Anya: We're friends?!?!?!

Damian: NO

Anya: OHOHO other people think I'm cool now. I don't need Damian anymore

Damian: Say WHAT

Becky: Ur jealous lol.

Damian: No

Ewen: Space is cool

Damian: Whatever

Ewen: OMG Anya we share a common interest in space!

Anya: I want to build a castle on the moon!

Damian: When I grow up I'll make it so you can go to space whenever you want. I will literally build you a castle on the moon.

Becky: You are SO jealous lol

Damian: Well I can't really deny it now can I

Damian: I literally got Anya the most expensive cake in the world. But only to pay my blood debt to her for the handkerchief thing, and for no other reasons.

Anya: Omg give me the cake.. I mean, be my friend.

Damian: She wants to square up???

Anya: No. I want to be your friend.

Damian: Idk why she wants to fight me so badly but I guess I'll oblige as an excuse to spend time with her... I mean to give her the cake.

Anya: Omg just give me the cake already.

Damian: I'm literally in love with you. I MEAN I DON'T WANT TO BE YOUR FRIEND. I'M JUST GIVING YOU THESE TO PAY BACK MY BLOOD DEBT.

Anya: Yeah okay we can be friends now! Gotta beat our moms at the friendship scheme.

Damian: Wait she's in love with me

Anya: King of jumping to conclusions over here 😭 Omg nevermind pls leave me alone

Damian: Queen of mixed signals you make no sense 😭

Anya: Bro chill we're literally in first grade 💀✋

Damian: Haha, you're too dumb to make it into the same class as me next semester

Anya: Oh wait ur right :(

Damian: Wait but what if she actually beats me though

Anya: I drew a beard into my face with permanent marker.

Damian: WAIT BUT WHAT IF SHE ACTUALLY BEATS ME THOUGH

[brossession-collection]

Dad's Cam Show (Re-uploaded)

Note: This is a story I wrote in 2020 that was previously deleted by Tumblr. Couldn't find it until I stumbled upon am old hard drive. Hope you enjoy.

--

This social distancing shit is so boring. I get it. It’s needed. But god damn am I running out of things to do. Can’t even meet the guys I’ve been talking to on Grindr. Worse yet is that I’m stuck back at home. I was supposed to graduate college this year! Instead I was slumped over a computer screen in my PJs with my dad making his special pancakes. Ugh. Fuck this shit. I just wish I could go back to a better time.

Whatever. I’m done complaining. Dad’s getting groceries which means I can snoop around his shit. Yeah I’m that bored.

Dad’s a big burly guy. Heading into his mid-forties now and starting to gray up a little, but still keeping his body builder life style. He’s pretty open with me. He told me he used to do cam shows back before livestreams were even a thing. Made sense. Had to show off the bod somehow. Don’t know how mom thought about it but whatever. She’s out of the picture.

His room always had a musky woodsy cologne-y smell. His laundry hamper was even better. I always loved taking his briefs out of there and putting them on myself. I’ve been following his footsteps and bodybuilding myself, but I’m still a ways away before I have an ass and waist as large as his. So his 36in undies droop a bit. I grabbed his black cap too. Man. He loves this thing. Well, plus the 10 others caps he has. He always had it topping his head. Pretty sure he wears it to sleep too. I put it on and flexed like him. I got a bit of a boner but nothing crazy.

His dinosaur of a laptop was open, and logged in. I know I shouldn’t have, but I did it anyways. There were so many folders within folders. So much boring shit… and then I found “cam pics.”

The briefs I was wearing tented and wetted. Fuck I was so scared to open it. But I clicked it and… In there was only one image. I clicked on it to make it bigger and it was my dad. About 13 years ago. He was shirtless, and wearing the same cap that I have on my head right now. My eyes drifted from his hairy arms to his chest to eventually his bearded face. He looked so… tired? There was something about the softness in his expression that really got to me. And then…

“Hey son! I’m home! Could ya help me with the groceries?”

Shit. I got up and scrambled. The briefs were soaked and still being soaked. I had so many windows to close out of. Then I started hearing his footsteps come closer. I panicked and grabbed the top of the laptop to close it, but I couldn’t move. Suddenly, all the windows on the screen started to close. All except for the image of dad I had opened it. It enlarged by itself, and then the laptop started to fucking shake. I tried to get it to stop but it just kept rumbling. Fuck it. I wound up my fist and punched the screen. But there was no impact.

In less than a second my body followed my wrist into the screen. Everything went bright, and I was in a different room. I looked around. It looked like my parents’ room at our old house. The same laptop was in front of me showing the same image as before. Dad’s younger face looking back… And then I saw his eyes move. I froze. I looked at the time. 12:56 turned to 12:57. This wasn’t an image. It was a fucking livestream.

I slowly tilted my head. Dad did the same. I widened my eyes. So did dad. A smile crept over our faces. I just time travelled! And into dad’s body! Fuck there was so much I could do now!

“PING”

A old-school AIM notification popped up on screen. I maneuvered dad’s hand to the mouse and clicked on it. “Hey daddy. You gonna give us a show or what?”

“PING”

“Let’s see those hairy pits man!”

Fuck. I guess dad wasn’t kidding about these cam shows. Shit how do I reply? Do I just say something?

“Uh…” I gulped. Dad’s gruff voice was in my throat. “You guys mean… uh… this?” I lifted and flexed dad’s right arm. Immediately his armpit hair bursted out. Moist and smelly. My nose naturally turned towards the sweaty pit. Holy fuck was it musky. I took a deep whiff and groaned.

“PING. PING. PING. PING.”

“Fuck yeah daddy. Sniff that pit.”

“God damn you’re a big guy. How’s it feel huh?”

It felt amazing being so big. Watching everything I was doing be reflected by my dad on the recording was even better. The cockiness came in.

I wheeled the office chair back and did a double bicep pose. Sweat dripped off his hairy pits. I gave my face a rub and felt his beard scratch against his callused fingers. Then my hands felt the need to go down to his chest. I never felt so much pleasure from nipple rubbing in my life. The pings kept on coming. It was euphoric.

Dad’s cock was tenting the briefs I had put on earlier. I uncaged his 7 incher and let out a whiff of junk musk that filtered into my nose immediately. I started stroking and couldn’t stop. My other hand reached under dad’s taint, through the forest of pubes, and rammed a dildo into my dad’s ass crack.

“PING. PING. PING.”

“Holy fuck this is new! We gonna see a fingering show today!?”

“God damn man you enjoying yourself?”

I was. Everytime Dad’s moans left my throat I felt cock twitch a little bit harder. It just felt so amazing to feel his beefy arms rub against his beefy chest. His toes curling with every electric shock of pleasure moving through his beefy ass and legs.

I shot his load. Let out a gutteral yell. And it didn’t stop coming. My beard was soaked with three shots of cum. Chest was drenched with eight more. At this point, sweat was trickling down my temples. I relished in dad’s orgasm and then relaxed in the chair.

I watched as the notifications went crazy. Dad’s soft eyes housing my consciousness. Ugh. It felt incredible. I glanced over at his hat and felt the need to take it off. I did, and felt a wave of cool relief come off my head. Dad’s hair was cropped short, like a messy crew cut. And it was dripping with sweat. I felt the need to say something.“You like that, men?” Dad had so much suave in voice. The pings accelerated.I smiled and played with my cock. I could feel another round coming but felt a bigger presence unfold. Suddenly dad’s body started to shake. I tried controlling it, but I couldn’t weigh him down. My arms were flailing before my hands grabbed onto the edges of the desk. I whipped my head back, then head-butted the laptop screen. Light filtered through.

I was back at home, in my dad’s loose fitting briefs, his cap nestled on my head. Dad’s footsteps came by, then turned another direction. Guess he wasn’t coming by his room just yet. I looked down at his briefs, now soaked with my cum. Fuck. Was it just a dream?

It must’ve been. Just a fucking horny fever dream. What the fuck ever. Better than what I had been doing up until now. I leaned over to close the laptop but noticed something.

The image had turned into a recording.

[norrisleclercf1]

Our Boy

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Lando Norris x SingleMother!Reader

Rating: PG-17

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of smut, slight child abandonment, young parent, polyamorous relationship, fluff, angst, worries of sperm donor taking child, etc.

Requested: Yes/No

Words: 2.9K

Pt.2 The Hunt for Fruit

A/N: hehehehehehe

"Elijah! Don't run ahead of me!" Chasing after a 3-year-old in sandals was not ideal, especially when he's just gotten out of daycare and was hellbent on seeing his fathers. "Mama! Hurry up!" People move out of the way, smiling, seeing the familiar face of the little boy whose heart captivated them.

"Elijah, please. Stop right now, or I'll tell your Papa you're being bad." Elijah stops there, not wanting his Papa to know he's been bad for Mama. "No! Don't tell Papa, please." He cries; seeing his little face break, you almost give in but must stay strong.

If anyone didn't know your story, they'd say he was his Papa's little boy through and through. Same dimples, gorgeous baby blues, sadly those eyes he got from his useless sperm donor, you tried not to say ill words about the man. But, he refuses to be apart of Elijah’s life.

You had Elijah at a young age and were unsure what to do. Thankful for your family and family friends that supported you. At four months pregnant, you had met Elijah's Papa; you told him from the beginning you were pregnant, but he didn't care.

Taking Elijah was the best decision of his life. He always wanted a family, and the thought that this one was premade didn't bother him. "Mama, are Papa and Daddy home?" You stop staring at your son's eyes and smile, patting his hair. "Yes, baby. Daddy and Papa are both home."

Elijah takes off. This time he's stopped when he gets scooped up by a particular uncle with dark hair and a beard. "Uncle Enzie!" Elijah cries, seeing his Uncle Lorenzo. He still couldn't say his name entirely, so he was known as Enzie. Only Elijah could call him that, and after Arthur tried to one day and ended up with a bloody nose, no one dared call Lorenzo that.

"Running from Mama again, little troublemaker?" Lorenzo asks, tucking the boy close and running his fingers over Elijah's stomach, making him screech in joy. "No...Mama said she'd tell Papa if I was bad. But, just wanna see Papa and Daddy." He pouts as Lorenzo watches you sprint down the sidewalk carrying a bag of groceries.

"Need help?" Lorenzo doesn't allow you time to answer as he grabs the bag and carries Elijah the rest of the way. "Thank you, I mistakenly told him they'd be home." You groan, seeing Elijah grow restless seeing a certain Pista in the driveway.

"Rookie mistake." Lorenzo only sits the little boy down once he's in the driveway and watches Elijah bolt for the door and throws it open. "DADDY!" Your heart explodes hearing the mixture of Elijah and your 2nd partner. Lorenzo walks past them as you step in the door and close it, watching, and Elijah snuggles into his Daddy, who showers him with kisses and hugs.

When he joined the mix, Elijah was 10 months old. You didn't mean to fall in love with the man before you, but you did. His boyish charm and how carefree he is just drew me in. He backed off when he realized you had formed a family with one of his best friends.

You sat your first partner down and told them everything, how you felt, how he was with Elijah, that seeing him hold him was the most natural thing you've seen. They didn't care that you felt this way and welcomed him.

"PAPA!" You tear your eyes away to see the 1st real love of your life round the corner. He wore jeans with a plain white shirt and was barefoot, so he's been home for some time. "Hey, check him out later. Why not kiss me?" You giggle, seeing Lando come towards you, smirking.

"Lando." He wraps an arm around your waist and gently pulls you in, kissing your lips while Elijah is distracted.

Your little boy was going through a faze where no one else could kiss his Mama except him. "Lorenzo said he was running from you? That true?" Lando asks. The young Brit wasn't one for discipline. That was more Charles's department than his. But, he was raised with manners and ensures his son is raised similarly.

"Lando, Elijah is excited to see his Daddy and Papa. I can't blame the boy for running. Don't tell Charles till later. Let them have this." Motioning to the little boy running circles around Charles's feet. Lando nods, seeing that Charles has given Elijah a new toy. It was a copy of Pierre's new F1 car.

"Come on, Pascale and the others are in the kitchen cooking." Lando grabs your hands and drags you to the kitchen. Charles looks up and smiles, mouthing the words 'I love you' as you pass him.

"Papa? When do you and Daddy leave?" Elijah was getting old enough to notice when they were gone for long periods. Charles and Lando wished Elijah wasn't noticing, but leaving was getting harder and harder as he grew up. "Not for a while Mon étoile. Did you take care of your Mama for us?" Elijah nods, grabbing Charles's hand and walking to the sounds of his Mama's voice.

"Mama was sick. Grand-mère stayed with us." Elijah says. Charles couldn't help but frown. You were sick and didn't tell them? He didn't like that one bit. "But grand-mère is teaching me French now, Papa." Charles smiles and scoops Elijah up, happy he is learning his tongue. "I'm glad, my little star." Kissing his cheek, Elijah giggles, holds his car close to his chest, and lays his head on Charles's shoulder.

"Papa? Can I come with you and Daddy next?" Elijah loved watching the orange and red cars, but at his age couldn't understand it well. Just knew that Papa and Daddy drove them. "Who'll stay with Mama then?" Walking into the kitchen, Charles kisses his mother and you on the cheek.

Lando smirks and leans out, wanting one or two, but Charles smacks Lando on the back of his head. "Hey! Don't hit my Daddy!" Elijah screams, pulling your attention from the vegetables and glaring at the two. "Oh, buddy. I'm okay. Papa was just playing." Grabbing Elijah Lando soothes the boy, who glares at his Papa. Charles rolls his eyes and walks over to you, pulling you into his chest.

"Hey," Charles whispers, kissing your neck. "Hey to you too. Was the flight long?" Cutting the peppers carefully, trying not to get distracted by roaming hands. "It was okay. So, Elijah told me something." Charles hums, resting his chin between your neck and shoulder. "Really? Charles, he's 3. I'm sure he says many interesting things." Elijah was one to say crazy things and not really think them over; he spoke his mind. Too much sometimes.

"Okay... well. He said you were sick, and grand-mère had to come and stay with you?" You stop cutting and curse Elijah for telling Charles that. If one thing Charles hated the most about traveling was when you were sick by yourself. "Char, I had a cold. Elijah had daycare, then swim lessons, and I was knocked down. So your mother came to help. Really, it was nothing crazy." You explain, not wanting to worry him.

Looking up, you see Lando studying you. Elijah was entertained by Lorenzo, who was making funny faces with crackers. "Alright, look, I'm fine now, okay? Really." You soothe, kissing Charles and move, kissing Lando as well, only to feel two hands push you away. "Mama, your kisses mine," Elijah whines, making you sigh and pick him up.

"Oh, I'm sorry, my little prince. Are you feeling left out?" You whine, kissing his cheek as he giggles, squirming around. "Daddy? Can we play?" Elijah asks, giving puppy dog eyes to Lando, who caves instantly. "Of course. Come on, let's let the adults cook. What do you wanna play?" Lando grabs Elijah, their voices floating down the hall to the playroom.

"Oh, sweetie, before I forget. Here's the mail, a letter for you." Pascale smiles, handing the white envelope. It was heavy, but you noticed the scrawl of your name and knew who it was from.

"What's wrong?" Charles asks, getting worried seeing the look on your face. "It's....it's from him." You mumble. Everyone stops and looks at each other. They knew you didn't have a good relationship with your ex, Elijah's....sperm donor. It's not like the relationship ended badly. He wasn't ready for a child, coming from a wealthy family who saw the child as a smear on the family name.

"Well, what'd the bastard send now?" Charles growls as Pascale glares. "Language, my god Charles you have a son." Pascale scolds. "He's not in the room, Mama. Besides, I don't like that you told that..bastard our new home address." You stare at the envelope and then at Charles. "Charles, the man has a right to know where his son is." You hate saying it the moment it leaves your mouth.

"He's not his son. He's ours." You jump as Lando walks in, standing next to Charles. "I'm sorry to ask this, but Pascale, Lorenzo. Can you give us a moment to talk?" Lando asks them, giving off a tense smile. "Of course, dear. Where's Elijah?" Pascale asks softly. "I put him down for his nap," Lando replies, staring right at you.

They move quickly from the kitchen, leaving you with your two partners. "Lando..only meant," "No, I know what you meant, Y/n. But Elijah is our son. Not his." Lando was never one to get angry. When it came to Elijah and his birth father, it was a new person. "Lando, by law, he's still his son. I have to let him know where he is. That way, he doesn't take Elijah." It was never a worry of him taking Elijah.

But that didn't mean he wouldn't try. "Y/n, if that fucker comes anywhere near him-" Charles growls but takes a deep breath to remain calm for this conversation. "Maybe, we should revisit the adoption talk," Lando suggests. It was a talk brought up late one night when Elijah was lying in your shared bed.

He was lying on Charles's chest. Both of them were asleep, the same look on their face. Mouths opened, and cheeks chubby. Lando had brought it up while the two of you watched them sleep, how similar they looked.

"Lando, we can't. Besides, they only allow one name on the adoption papers. I couldn't possibly choose only one of you." Lando and Charles look between one another and shrug. "It should be Charles," Lando says in such a way that it's not up for discussion.

"Lando!" Both you and Charles shout, but he holds his hands up. "Charles was there before Elijah was born! He's always been there. Besides, Elijah knows we're both his fathers. It doesn't matter whose last name he has." Charles shakes his head no, not liking the idea at all. "Lando, he should have both our names, not just mine. He's your son too." You watch them both, seeing how much they've grown together in the past 2 years.

"Wait, wait! Why are we even panicking? We don't know know what he's even sent yet. Shouldn't we see that before we jump ahead?" Lando laughs as he walks over, grabbing the envelope. "I'm opening it." He rips it open. Moving to Charles's side, you hold his hand, squeezing it. Lando opens the papers and skims over them but stops when he flips the page.

"Love, you might want to see this." He holds the papers out, but you shake your head no. "No, Y/n. Baby, it's not anything bad. I promise." Lando grabs your other hand, pulls you into his side, and shows you the papers. Reading them over, you start to cry reading the words. "What? Will someone tell me what's going on?" Charles snaps, worried that his little boy wouldn't be his for much longer.

"Charles.....He...He's relinquishing his parental rights." Charles freezes but snaps back as he snatches the papers and reads them over. "Oh my god! Elijah!" He drops the papers and bolts through the living room, scaring Pascale and Lorenzo. Stomping up the stairs, he throws open the door. Elijah flinches being woken up so suddenly.

Charles moves and picks him up, holding him close to his chest. The poor boy crying, unsure of what is happening. "Shhhh, Mon étoile. It's okay, it's Papa. I didn't mean to scare you." Charles whispers in his ear as poor Elijah clings tight to Charles.

Walking back down, Elijah's cries turn to sniffles. "Jesus, Charles, did something happen?" Pascale whispers walking up to them and scanning over Elijah. "Mama, we'll talk later at dinner. He's okay." He whispers, arms tightening, causing Elijah to whine as Charles enters the kitchen.

"Dammit, Charles." Lando seethes, taking Elijah from him. "Daddy, Papa scared me." He whimpers, koala hugging Lando as you shake your head. "Oh, it's okay, buddy. Papa just missed you so much. He didn't mean to scare you." Lando whispers, soothing down his son's bed hair. Lando sits him on the counter, Charles right there, stuck to his son's side.

Charles never voiced it, but you knew why he was so scared. It was always a thought in his mind that you'd take Elijah and leave them. He was terrified, having woken up many times during the night to check on Elijah to make sure he was still there.

"Charles, he's not going anywhere." You whisper, pulling his attention away from Elijah as he stares at you. "I've always been scared. Every letter, I've been scared." He whispers, moving to you and hugging you, hiding his face in your neck.

"I know." Lando smiles at the two of you and reaches over, pulling the two of you into him and hugging the four of you together. "Papa, sleepy." Elijah whines, which has the 3 adults laugh. "Why don't you and Papa take a nap together, yeah?" Lando suggests. Charles nods and picks up his little boy, and walks out.

"Lando," But he shakes his head, leaning in his silents you with a kiss. "Don't. He's ours, always has been, and always will be. Besides, we should talk about that pregnancy test. Yeah?" Your eyes grow wide as Lando gets a cheeky look on his face and presses his hand to your stomach. "Cold? Please, you're lucky I got to the master bath before Charles. Hide it for you." You let go of the breath you're holding and giggle.

"I was planning to tell you both later this week. Surprise?" Lando shakes his head, laughing, as he kisses you again. "You know...I want a girl this time. Charles has got his little mini. I want my own." You roll your eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck, resting your foreheads together.

"Lando doesn't work like that." You tease, but he snorts, not listening. "Hey, I know damn well I knocked you up." Lando bites back. "Oh yeah? And how do you know that?" You ask cocking an eyebrow. "Because it was our anniversary 2 months ago, and if I remember correctly, I had dibs on your pussy, and Charles was-" You cover his mouth, skin burning at the memory as Lando lets a muffled laugh ring in the kitchen.

"Okay, okay. But, it could still be Charles's." You argue, not even caring who was the one who knocked you up, just playing along. He snorts and removes your hand as his hands squeeze your ass, placing kisses on your neck. "Nope, I was tracking your ovulation. Planned it." It dawns on you, then.

"Lando Norris, you didn't." You laugh in shock. "I asked if you were okay with it. You kept moaning, saying, yes, fuck yes." He mimics your moans from that night as you slap his chest. "Wait...are you okay with this? Fuck, I didn't even think this over. Are you okay with another baby?" Lando asks, worry taking over as you shush him.

"Of course, we have talked about it off and on. Lando, you didn't do anything wrong." You reassure him as the Brit takes a breath calming down. "Thank god." You jump, hearing a ringing, and see that a timer was set for the casserole that Pascale had fixed.

"Dinner is ready." You say, making Lando groan, leaving one last kiss on your cheek. "Damn, I was about to work on my dessert." He slaps your ass, moves to the oven, and pulls the dish out. "Pascale? Your casserole is ready!" Lando yells softly, knowing Charles was knocked out on the couch with Elijah.

Pascale comes in and shoos Lando away, Lorenzo walking in with Arthur, who had just arrived having been at SIM practice. He kisses your cheek and tells you your two boys are asleep on the couch. "I'll wake them, fix the salads, love." Lando wasn't allowed to cook food after burning one of Pascale's fish dishes one night.

He walks in there and stops. Elijah was on Charles's chest, moving up and down slowly due to Charles's breathing. Both their mouths are slightly open, cheeks puffy, and dimples showing. Lando smiles, tiptoeing closer. He crouches down, running a finger over Elijah's cheek.

"My sweet boy." Placing a gentle kiss on Elijah's chubby cheek, he cuts his eyes to Charles and smirks. "Oi, wake up." He stabs Charles deeply in the side, making Charles jerk and groan. "Ass." He curses. "Dick. Come on, dinner is ready." Lando rebuttals; Charles chuckles as he rubs the sleep away.

"Hey?" Charles calls softly, Lando looking at him. "He's our boy. Elijah will have both our names. Okay, no one's last name." Charles whispers, settling this talk once and for all. "Yeah, yeah. But the baby has my last name first." Lando sighs, standing. "Fine, I don't care if the baby does," Charles grumbles, standing slowly with Elijah in his arms.

"Wait? What baby?"